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NICHOL'S  SERIES  OF  STANDARD  DIVINES. 

PURITAN  PERIOD. 


it^  ^tmxul  'Bxtha 


By  JOHN  C.   MILLEE,   D.D., 

LINCOLN  COLLEGE  ;  HONORABT  CANON  OF  WOBCESTEB  ;   SECTOB  OF  ST  MARTIN'S,  BIBMINOHAXL 


THE 


WORKS  OF  RICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D 

VOL.  I. 


COUNCIL  OF  PUBLICATION. 


"W.  LINDSAY  ALEXANDER,  D.D.,  Professor  of  Theology,  Congregational 
Union,  Edinburgh. 

JAMES  BEGG,  D.D.,  Minister  of  Newington  Free  Church,  Edinburgh. 

THOMAS  J.  CRAWFORD,  D.D.,  S.T.P.,  Professor  of  Divinity,  University, 
Edinburgh. 

D.  T.  K.  DRUMMOND,  M.A.,  Minister  of  St  Thomas'  Episcopal  Church, 
Edinburgh. 

WILLIAM  H.  GOOLD,  D.D.,  Professor  of  Biblical  Literature  and  Church 
History,  Reformed  Presbyterian  Church,  Edinburgh. 

ANDREW  THOMSON,  D.D.,  Minister  of  Broughton  Place  United  Presby- 
terian Church,  Edinburgh. 

&tntval  ©Uttor. 
BEV.  THOMAS  SMITH,  M.A.,  Edinbubqh. 


\J 


/ 


"W^' 


u. 


I 


.:iii/i^,ofjifk 


THE  COMPLETE  WORKS 


RICHARD  SIBBE8,  D.D., 

MASTER  OF  CATHERINE  HALL,  CAMBRIDGE  ;    PREACHES  OF  GRAY'S  INN, 

LONDON. 


^bit^b,  foit^  p;^mok, 


BY  THE  REV.  ALEXANDER  BALLOCH  GROSAET, 

(OOR.  MBMB.  SOC.  ANTIQ.  OF  SCOTLAND) 

KINSOSS. 


VOL,  I. 

CONTAINING  : 

THE  DESCRIPTION  OF  CHRIST THE  BRUISED  REED  AND  SMOKING  FLAX 

THE  SWORD  OF  THE  WICKED THE  SOUL's  CONFLICT 

THE  saints'  safety  IN  EVIL  TIMES CHRIST  IS  BEST,  OR  ST  PAUl's  STRAIT— 

Christ's  sufferings  for  man's  sin — the  church's  visitation — 

THE  ungodly' S  MISERY THE  DIFFICULTY  OF  SALVATION 

THE  saints'  HIDING-PLACE  IN  THE  EVIL  DAY. 


EDINBURGH:   JAMES   NICHOL. 

LONDON:  JAMES  NISBET  AND  CO.     DUBLIN:  W.  ROBERTSON. 

M.DCCC.LXII. 


«««* 


ETiKBusaH : 

PBnCTBT  BY  JOHN  OBEIO  A^D  fOK 

ou>  PHTSin  autnuis. 


) 


TO 

THE  RET.  JAMES  AUGUSTUS  HESSEY,   DCL, 

PBEAOHEK  TO  THE  HON.  SOCIETY  OF  GBAY's  INN,  LONDON, 
&C.   &C.   &0. 

AND 

THE  KEY.  CHAELES  KIEKBY  EOBINSON,  M.A., 

MASTER  OF  ST  CATHARINE'S  COLLEGE,  CAMBRIDGE, 
DISTINGUISHED    OCCUPANTS    OF    OFFICES    FORMERLY   HELD    BY 

RICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D., 

THIS  EDITION  OF  HIS  WHOLE  WORKS  IS,  WITH  THEIR  KIND  PERMISSION, 
EESPECTFULLY  DEDICATED  BY 

THE  EDITOR. 


■^  ^  -  -  r.  ^ 


vi!i°=«^^/ 


CONTENTS. 


Preface, 

Memoir  of  Eichard  Sibbes,  D.D., 

Appendix  to  Memoir, 


» 

xiii 

e 

xix 

> 

cxrxi 

Description  of  Christ j^I^t,  XII.  18  1 

Notes,  .  .  Qi 

.  •  •  •  •  .  ol 


The  Bruised  Reed  and  Smoking  Flax Mat.  XII.  20  .     33 

Epistle  Dedicatory,   ......  85-37 

To  the  Christian  Reader,       .....  88-41 

part  I.  CHRIST  WILL  NOT  BREAK  THE  BRUISED  REED. 

The  text  opened  and  divided.     What  the  reed  is,  and  what  the 

bruising,  .             .             .             .             .             ^             .  43   44 

Those  that  Christ  hath  to  deal  withal  are  bruised,       .             .  '44 

Bruising  is  necessary,  1.  before  conversion;  2.  after  conversion,  44 

Use.     Not  to  be  rash  in  judging  such,             ...  44 

Christ  will  not  break  the  Bruised  Reed,          .             *             .*  45 

Confirmed  from  his  borrowed  titles,  relations,  offices,  .*             .*  45 

Use  1.  Go  boldly  to  the  throne  of  grace,        ...  46 

Use  2.  Despair  not  in  thy  bruisings,               ..."  46 

Use  3.  See  the  contrary  to  this  in  Satan,       .             .*             *  46 
(1.)  Signs,  (2.)  Means,  (3.)  Measure,  (4.)*  Comfort 

to  the  bruised,             ....  46-48 

PART  n.    NOR  QUENCH  THE  SMOKING  FLAX. 

Grace  is  little  at  the  first,      •             ....  49 

Use.     Not  to  be  discouraged  at  small  beginnings,       .*             [  49 

Grace  is  mingled  with  corruption,      •             .             .             !  50 

Use.     Hence  we  judge  so  variously  of  ourselves,         '.             \  QQ 

Christ  will  not  quench  small  and  weak  beginnings 


Vm  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Because  it  is  from  him,  .  .  ,  .  .  61 

Because  it  is  for  kim,     .....  51 

Use  1.  No  more  should  we  :  therefore — ■ 

1.  Let  all  men  in  general  carry  themselves  with  modera- 

tion ;  yet  with  wisdom  to  discern  those  that  are  not 

such,  and  tenderness  towards  beginners,      .  .       51,  52 

2.  In  particular  to  admonish  of  this,  (1.)  ministers,  (2.) 

the  church,  (3.)  magistrates,  (4.)  private  Christians: 
that  they  quench  not  gqod  things  in  others  by  their 
— example,  slanderings,  censuring  and  judging  them 
— [1.]  for  matters  indifierent,  [2.]  for  weaknesses,    .       53-57 
Use  2.  Examine  whether  we  be  such  as  Christ  will  not  quench : 

1.  Kules  how  to  examine  ourselves,        ...  58 

2.  Signs  whereby  to  examine  ourselves,  .  .  59 
Some  scruples  of  heart  answered,  that  keep  us  from  the  com- 
fort of  our  examination,     .....  62 

Use  3.  We  are  encouraged  to  set  upon  duties,  notwithstanding 

our  weaknesses  and  disabihties,      ....  65 

A  case  about  indisposition  to  duty  resolved,    ...  66 

Two  doubts   of  acceptance,  either,  1.    From  scruples  about 

duties  ;  2.  Ignorance  of  our  condition  in  Christ,     ^  .  67 

Weaknesses  what,     ......  68 

How  to  recover  lost  peace,     .....  69 

Use  4.  Let  us  fr-ame  our  conceits  accordingly,  and  not  beheve 

Satan's  representations  of  Christ  to  us,      .  .  .  71 

Or  of  us  unto  ourselves,        .  .  .  .  .  71 

Use  5.  Reproof  of  such  as  sin  against  this  mercifal  disposition 

in  Christ,  as  those  do, — 

1.  That  go  on  in  ill  courses,  either  from  despair,  or  pre- 

sumption, or  a  wilftd  purpose  to  quench  the  light 

that  is  in  them,      .....  78 

2.  That  neglect  good  courses  from  hopes  to  have  comfort, 

because  Christ  is  thus  merciful,       ...  74 

3.  That  ill  requite  so  gi'acious  a  Saviour  as  Christ  is,  (1.) 

by  neglecting  his  Mediatorship,  (2.)  or  by  being  cruel 
to  him  in  his  [1.]  members,  [2.]  name,  [3.]  by  divi- 
sions in  opinion,     .....       75,  76 

4.  That  walk  contrary  to  Christ  in  their  dealing  with  the 

tender,  for  their  own  gain,  ...  77 

5.  That  despise  and  stumble  at  this  low  stooping  of  Christ,  77 

PAET  in.    XTNTIL  HE  SEND  FORTH  JUDGMENT  UNTO  VICTORY. 

Explanation  of  the  words,  .....  77,  78 
The  matter  whereof  is  drawn  out  into  six  conclusions — •  .  78 

Conclusion  1.  Chiist  is  so  mild  that  yet  he  will  rule  those  that 

enjoy  the  comfort  of  his  hght  mildness,       ...  79 

Use.     For  trial  to  discern  who  may  lay  just  claim  to  Christ's 

mercy,      .......  79 

Conclusion  2.  The  spiritual  government  of  Christ  is  joined  with 

judgment  and  wisdom,        .....  80 

I  Use  1.  Spiritual  wisdom  and  judgment  is  excellent,   and  in 

what  respects,       ......  81 


CONTENTS.  IX 

PAGE 

Why  Satan  envies  and  spiteth  it,       .  .  .  .  81 

It  is  most  necessary  for  the  managing  of  a  Christian's  course,  81 
Where  true  wisdom  and  judgment  is,  there  Christ  sets  up  his 

government,  ......  82 

The  best  method  for  practice,  ....  83 

Use  2.  There  is  no  true  judgment  where  the  life  is  ill  governed,  83 

Coyiclusion  3.  Christ's  government  is  victorious,  .  .  84 

1.  In  every  private  Christian,     ....  84 

2.  In  the  church  in  general,  ....  85 
Why  the  victory  seems  sometimes  to  go  on  the  contrary  side,  85 
Use  1.  Comfort  to  weak  Christians :  the  least  spark  in  them, 

if  it  be  right,  will  prevail,  ....  86 

(1.)  Signs  whether  there  be  any  such  grace  in  us  as  will  be 

victorious,  ......  87 

(2.)  Means  to  be  used  that  it  may  be  so,         .  .  .  88 

Use  2.  To  admonish — 1.  nations  and  states,  2.  families,  3. 
every  one  in  particular,  (1.)  for  himself,  (2.)  his  friends, 
to  side  with  Christ,  and  to  embrace  his  government,  .  91 

Use  3.  To  inform  us  that  then  Popery  must  come  down,         .  91 

Conclusion  4.  As  Christ's  government  shall  be  victorious,  so 
it  shall  openly  appear,  it  shall  be  brought  forth  to  the  view 
of  all  to  victory,    ......  91 

Use.     Deceit  and  error  shall  be  laid  open  to  shame,  .  .  92 

Conclusion  5.  This  government  is  advanced  and  set  up  by 
Christ  alone,  ......  93 

In  all  spiritual  essays  look  for  strength  from  Christ,  and  not 

from  thyself,  ......  94 

Conclusion  6.  This  prevailing  and  victory  shall  not  be  without 

fighting,    .......  95 

Because  it  is — 1.  government,    2.  spiritual   government,  3. 

government  with  judgment,  ....  95 

Use.     It  is  no  sign  of  a  good  condition  to  find  aU  quiet,  .  96 

Wheresoever  Christ  cometh,  there  will  be  divisions,    .  .  97 

Miserable  are  those  men  that  stand  out  against  him,  and  are 

still  under  Satan's  government,  .  .  .97 

Conclusion  and  general  application  of  this  third  part, — to  en- 
courage Christians  to  go  on  comfortably  and  cheerfully,  with 
confidence  of  prevailing,  both  in  respect,  1.  of  ourselves, 
although  beset  with  corruption;  and,  2.  the  church,  although 
compassed  with  enemies,  .....  97 

Notes,  .......  100,  101 


The  Sword  OF  THE  Wicked Ps.  XLII.  10,     .  103 

Notes,  . 117,  118 


The   Soul's  Conflict  with  itself,  and  Victory 

OVER  ITSELF  BY  Faith Ps.  XLII.  11.     .  119 

Dedication,  .  ....  •  .  •  121 


CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

To  the  Christian  Reader,       .....  122-127 
Verses  by  Benlowes  and  Quarles,       ....  128,  129 

Chap.  1.  General  observations  upon  the  text,  .  .  131 

2.  Of  discouragements  from  without,    .  .  .  133 

3.  Of  discouragements  from  within,      .  .  .  136 

4.  Of  casting  down  ourselves,  and  specially  by  sorrow. 

The  Evils  thereof,  .  .  .  .142 

5.  Remedies  of  casting  down:  to  cite  the  soul,  and  press 

it  to  give  an  account,      ....  144 

6.  Other  observations  of  the  same  natm'e,         .  .  148 

7.  Difference  between  good  men  and  others  in  conflicts 

with  sin,  .....  153 

8.  Of  unfitting  dejection :  and  when  it  is  excessive.     And 

what  is  the  right  temper  of  the  soul  herein,  .  155 

9.  Of  the  soul's  disquiets,  God's  dealings,  and  power  to 

contain  ourselves  in  order,  .  .  .  160 

10.  Means  not  to  be  overcharged  with  sorrow,    .  .  162 

11.  Signs  of  victory  over  om'selves,  and  of  a  subdued  spirit,  169 

12.  Of  original  righteousness,  natural  corruption,  Satan's 

joining  with  it,  and  our  duty  thereupon,  .  .  172 

13.  Of  imagination :  sin  of  it,  and  remedies  for  it,  .  178 

14.  Of  help  by  others :  of  true  comforters,  and  theii-  graces. 

Method.     Ill  success,      ....  191 

15.  Of  flying  to  God  in  disquiets  of  souls.     Eight  obser- 

vations out  of  the  text,    ....  197 

16.  Of  trust  in  God:  grounds  of  it:  especially  his  provi- 

dence,   ......  202 

17.  Of  graces  to  be  exercised  in  respect  of  divine  provi- 

dence,   ......  207 

18.  Other  grounds  of  trusting  in  God:  namely,  the  pro- 

mises.    And  twelve  directions  about  the  same,     .  212 

19.  Faith  to  be  prized,  and  other  things  undervalued,  at 

least  not  to  be  trusted  to  as  the  chief,      .  .  218 

20.  Of  the  method  of  trusting  in  God,  and  the  trial  of  that 

trust,     ......  221 

21.  Of  quieting  the  spirit  in  troubles  for  sin  :  and  objec- 

tions answered,  .....  226 

22.  Of  son-ow  for  sin,  and  hatred  of  sin,  when  right  and 

sufficient.     Helps  thereto,  .  .  .  232 

23.  Other  spiritual  causes  of  the  soul's  trouble  discovered 

and  removed :  and  objections  answered,  .  .  237 

24.  Of  outward  troubles  disquieting  the  spirit ;  and  com- 

forts in  them,     .....  239 

25.  Of  the  defects  of  gifts,  disquieting  the  soul.     As  also 

the  afflictions  of  the  church,         .  .  .  242 

26.  Of  divine  reasons  in  a  behever,  of  his  minding  to  praise 

God  more  than  to  be  delivered,   .  .  .  244 

27.  In  our  worst  condition  we  have  cause  to  praise  God. 

Stni  ample  cause  in  these  days,  .  .  .  248 

28.  Divers  qualities  of  the  praise  due  to  God.   With  helps 

therein.     And  notes  of  God's  hearing  our  prayers,  252 


CONTENTS.  jj 


PAGE 


Chap.  29.  Of  God's  manifold  salvation  for  his  people  ;  and  why 

open,  or  expressed  in  the  countenance,    .  .  258 

30,  Of  God,  our  God,  and  of  particular  application,         .*  262 

81.  Means  of  improving  and  evidencing  to  our  souls  that 

God  is  our  God,  .  ,  ^  267 

82.  Of  improving  our  evidences  for  comfort  in  several  pas- 

sages of  our  lives,  .  ,  ^  271 

^3.  Of  experience  and  faith,  and  how  to  wait  on  God  com- 
fortably.    Helps  thereto,  .  .  ,  277 
84.  Of  confirming  this  trust  in  God.    Seek  it  of  God  him- 
self.    Sins  hinder  not :  nor  Satan.     Conclusion 
and  soliloquy,     .             .             .             ^             .282 

^°*®^'  •  •  •  •  .  .  .  289-294 

The  Saint's  Safety  m  Evil  Times Ps.  vn.  14    .        295 

N°*es' 813 

The  Saint's  Safety  in  Evil  Times,  Manifested  by 
St   Paul,   pkom    his    Experience   of  God's 

Goodness  in  Greatest  Distress 2  Tim.  IV.  17, 18  314 

Notes, 'gg^ 

Christ  is  Best  ;  or,  St  Paul's  Strait Phil.  I.  23,  24,    335 

Notes,  .  .  .  .  .  ,  .      '    350 

Christ's  Sufferings  for  Man's  Sin «....Mat.  XXVII.  46  351 

N°*^«' '369 

The  Church's  Visitation 1  Pet.  IV.  17-19  371 

N°t^«' 384 

The  Ungodly's  Misery 1  Pet^  jy^  I7        ggg 

The  Difficulty  of  Saltation d  Pet  IV.  18     .  395 

The  Saint's  Hiding-Place  in  the  Evil  Day 1  Pet.  IV.  19,    .  401 

Notes,  .  .  .  .  ,  ^  .    '    '  410 

The  Saint's  Hiding-Place  in  the  Evil  Day 1  Pet.  IV.  19     .  411 

%*  The  '  Notes '  prefixed  to  the  several  Treatises  and  Sermons  will  shew  that  in 

the  present  volume  are  included  the  whole  of  the  vforks  published  by  Slbbes  himself: 

ihe  Description  of  Christ,'  and'  The  Sword  of  the  Wicked,'  being  restored  to  their 

proper  places,  as  introductory  to  '  The  Bruised  Keed,'  and  '  The  Soul's  Conflict,'  re- 


EDITOK'S  ADVERTISEMENT. 

Having  now  in  my  library  the  whole  of  the  works  of  Sibbes,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  two  small  volumes,  I  beg  to  note  them  here,  in  the  hope  that  thereby  I  may 
secure  them. 

{1.)  The  Saint's  Comforts,  being  the  substance  of  divers  sermons  preached  on  Ps. 
cxxx.,  the  beginning ;  The  Saint's  Happiness,  on  Ps.  Ixxiii.  28  ;  The  Rich  Pearl,  on 
Mat.  xiii.  45,  46  ;  The  Success  of  the  Gospel,  on  Luke  vii.  84,  35  ;  Mary's  Choice 
on  Luke  x.  38-40.  By  a  Reverend  Divine  now  with  God.  Printed  at  London  by 
Thos.  Cotes,  and  are  to  be  sold  by  Peter  Cole,  at  the  sign  of  the  Glove,  in  CornMII, 
near  the  Exchange.     1638.     12mo. 

(2.)  Antidotum  contra  Naufragium  Fidei  et  Bonse  Conscientiae,  Concio  Latine.  .  . 
2  Tim.  i.  14.     Pp.  78.     18mo. 

In  view  of  the  bibliographical  list  (see  a  of  this  Preface),  it  is  also  exceedingly  de- 
sirable to  have  the  following  editions  : — 

(3.)  Bruised  Reed.     4<A  edition.    1632.     18mo. 

(4.j  Two  Sermons  on  First  Words  of  Christ's  Last  Sermon.  4to.  1686.  \st 
edition. 

(5.)  Spiritual  Man's  Aim.     2d  edition. 

(6.)  Fountain  Sealed.     2d  edition. 

(7.)  Divine  Meditations.    2d  edition. 


PREFACE. 


In  presenting  the  public  with  the  first  volume  of  what,  it  is  hoped, 
will  prove  a  standard  edition  of  the  hitherto  uncollected  and  in- 
edited  works  of  Dr  Richard  Sibbes,  I  may  be  permitted  to  make 
the  following  remarks  : — 

(a)  Sibbes  has  had  no  preceding  editor.  The  edition  (so-called), 
of  his  'Works/  noted  below,*  contains  a  mere  fraction,  and 
those  which  are  included  have  been  mutilated  and  most  care- 
lessly printed.  It  were  invidious  to  point  out  the  abounding 
blunders  of  these  volumes.  '  This  edition,'  says  the  late  William 
Pickering,  our  English  Aldus,  'which  purports  to  be  the  entire 
works  of  Sibbes,  contains  only  a  small  portion  ;  besides  being 
incorrectly  printed,  and  omitting  the  prefaces,  dedications,  and 
tables/  t 

There  have  been  many  editions,  more  or  less  accurate,  and 
more  or  less  attractive  in  their  typography,  of  separate  treatises,— 
especially  of  the  Bruised  Reed  and  Soul's  Conflict.  These,  so  far 
as  known  to  us,  will  be  recorded  in  a  bibliographical  list  of  editions 
in  the  concluding  volume. 

(6)  It  may  therefore  be  pleaded,  that  any  shortcomings,  whether  of 
omission  or  commission,  claim  indulgence,  in  that  the  editor  has  had 
wholly  to  prepare  his  text  from  the  original  and  early  editions ;  J 

*  The  Works  of  the  Reverend  Richard  Sibbes,  D.D.,  lata  Master  of  Catherine 
HaU,  in  the  University  of  Oxford  (sic),  and  Preacher  of  Gray's  Inn,  London  &c. 
Aberdeen,  1812.     3  Vols.  8vo.  f  '  Bruised  Reed,'  reprint  of  1838,  p.  xxi. 

t  To  explain  ;— Adams's  '  Sermons  '  were  collected  by  himself  from  the  early  4to3 
into  a  folio,  and  so  it  is  an  editor's  text.  Had  Sibbes's  numerous  writings  been 
brought  together  into  a  folio  or  otherwise,  by  himself,  or  under  his  authority,  it  ia 
plain  that  the  labour  of  editing  would  have  been  much  simplified. 


XIV  PREFA.CE. 

and  that  these,  excepting  the  three  small  volumes  published  by  or 
under  the  sanction  of  the  author,  swarm  with  misprints  and 
mispunctuations.  The  posthumous  publication  of  the  larger  pro- 
portion explains  this.  It  can  hardly  be  hoped  that  in  every 
case  perfect  accuracy  has  been  attained,  as  many  points  must 
always  remain  to  some  extent  matter  of  opinion  ;  but  I  have  given 
a  good  deal  of  thought  and  pains  to  the  production  of  an  accurate 
text.  It  need  scarcely  be  said,  that  in  nothing  save  the  modern- 
isation of  the  orthography  and  punctuation,  are  Sibbes's  words 
touched. 

(c)  By  the  kind  help  of  friends  interested  in  the  work,  every 
quotation  and  reference,  coming  within  the  general  rule  laid  down 
.for  this  series,*  has  been  verified  or  filled  in,  as  the  case  may  be. 
Occasional  casual  references  and  allusions  have  been  traced.  It 
is  beheved  that  no  quotation  of  any  moment  has  been  overlooked. 
This  does  not  apply  to  the  mere  pointing  of  a  sentence  or  barbing 
of  an  appeal  with  a  saying  introduced  after  the  fashion  of  the  age, 
as  '  one  saith,'  or  '  the  heathen  saith.'  But  when  traced,  even  those 
have  been  given. 

{d)  To  the  treatises  embraced  in  this  volume,  which  were  pub- 
lished originally  and  superintended  subsequently  by-  the  author  in 
different  editions,  the  '  various  readings '  are  appended  as  foot-notes. 
The  letters  a,  h,  c,  &c.,  refer  to  the  few  '  notes  '  of  the  editor,  added 
at  the  close  of  each  treatise.  These  might  have  been  multiplied ;  but 
his  design  is  simply  to  explain  names,  dates,  facts.  The  old  signi- 
ficant words  that  occur  will  be  given  as  a  'glossary'  in  the  last 
volume,  with  references  to  the  places  where  they  occur.  This  may 
prove  a  not  unacceptable  addition  to  the  stores  of  the  '  Philological 
'Society,'  in  their  laudable  endeavour  to  furnish  that  great  desi- 
deratum, a  national  dictionary  of  our  English  tongue. 

(e)  Foi  the  '  Memoir '  I  have  done  my  humble  best.  None  can 
regret  its  deficiencies  more  than  myself  Yet  has  it,  as  the  whole 
imdertaking,  been  done  lovingly  and  as  an  honest  piece  of  work 
Those  who  have  engaged  in  kindred  investigations  will  best  appre- 
ciate the  difficulties  involved.  As  compared  with  preceding  me- 
moirs of  Sibbes  (or  notices  rather,  for  no  one  exceeds  at  the  most 
five  of  our  pages),  it  will  be  found  more  ample.  I  have  been  en- 
abled to  enrich  it  with  new  matter,  to  recover  old  which  was  lost 
or  neglected ;  and  to  bring  together  what  is  scattered  through 
many  volumes.  I  felicitate  myself  upon  the  possession  of  Zachary 
Catlings  MS.-f*     Writing  of  one  who  came  under  the  persecution 

*  See  '  Editorial  Note,'  Adams'  "Works,  vol.  i.  pp.  is,  x. 
t  See  Appendix  A.  to  Memoir. 


PREFACE.  XV 


of  Laud,  aiid  wlio  was  a  '  Puritan '  of  the  true  stamp,  the  policy 
of  Laud  must  come  under  review.  On  that  poHcy  I  have  decided 
opinions,  which  I  have  not  concealed.  But  I  trust  I  have  not  spoken 
uncourteously,  much  less  untruthfully.  There  are  some  minds  that 
cannot  speak  well  of  their  own  favourites  except  at  the  expense  of 
others.  They  cannot  laud  the  Churchman  without,  to  use  a  word  of 
Sibbes's,  '  depraving '  the  Puritan,  or  the  Puritan  without  impaUng 
the  Churchman.  Such  men  would  quench  Orion  that  Saturn's  rings 
may  gleam  the  brighter.  Whereas  our  dark  world  needs  both, 
neeas  all  its  stars.  Let  them  all  shine.  Our  great  names  are  not 
so  numerous,  either  in  Church  or  State,  that  we  can  afford  to  ob- 
scure any  of  our  historic  lights.  Let  all  irradiate  the  firmament  of 
fame. 

(/)  It  would  have  unduly  extended  the  *  Memoir '  to  have  in- 
cluded an  analysis  and  estimate  of  the  works  of  Sibbes,  or  a  view 
of  his  '  opinions  '  and  '  character '  as  reflected  therein.  This  I  hope 
to  overtake  in  a  short  essay,  to  be  given  in  the  course  of  the 
issue  of  the  works,  in  which  I  trust  to  be  able  to  throw  some  little 
light  on  his  relations  to  other  writers  and  theirs  to  him,  and  per- 
chance to  guide  the  casual  reader  to  the  treasures  of  rare  thought, 
ripe  wisdom,  spiritual  insight,  beauty  of  illustration,  sweetness  of 
consolation,  of  this  incomparable  old  worthy. 

(g)  The  pleasant  duty  remains  of  returning  my  warm  thanks  to 
very  many  friends  and  correspondents.  It  were  to  savour  of  osten- 
tation to  name  all  who  have  rendered  assistance,  or  endeavoured  to 
do  so.  But  I  must  mention  a  few.  To  the  Rev.  John  Eyton  Bicker- 
steth  Mayor,  M.A.,  Fellow  of  St  John's  College  ;  the  Rev.  Charles 
Kirkby  Robinson,  M.A.,  Master  of  St  Catherine's  College  ;  Charles 
Henry  Cooper,  Esq.,  F.S.A.,  and  Thompson  Cooper,  Esq.,  F.S.A.  ; 
Mr  Walhs, — all  of  Cambridge,  I  owe  special  acknowledgments  for 
various  favours,  and  for  local  inquiries  most  obHgingly  made  and 
communicated.  My  thanks  are  similarly  due  to  Dr  Hessey, 
preacher  of  Gray's  Inn,  London  ;  and  to  the  Rev.  Paul  M.  Sted- 
man,  vicar  of  Thurston  ;  the  Rev.  W.  G.  Tuck,  rector  of  Tostock  ; 
the  Rev.  A.  H.  Wratislaw,  Bury  St  Edmunds,  from  each  of  whom  I 
have  received  many  tokens  of  their  interest  in  my  labours,  as  well 
by  letter,  as  personally  on  occasion  of  a  visit  to  Suffolk.  From 
his  Grace  the  Duke  of  Manchester ;  Richard  Almack,  Esq.,  Mel- 
ford,  Sudbury  ;  James  Spedding,  Esq.,  editor  of  Bacon  ;  Joshua 
Wilson,  Esq.,  Nevill  Park,  Tunbridge  Wells  ;  Edward  Foss,  Esq., 
Churchill  House,  Dover  ;  William  Durrant  Cooper,  Esq.,  F.S.A.  ; 
Albert  Way,  Esq.,  F.S.A.  ;  R.  Siegfried,  Esq.,  Trinity  College, 
Dubhn  ;    Jonathan    B.    Bright,    Esq.,    Waltham,    Massachusetts, 


Xvi  PREFACE. 

United  States  ;  the  Rev.  W.  G.  Lewis,  Westboume  Grove  ;  the  Rev. 
George  Thomson,  Hackney  ;  the  Rev.  E.  Pattison,  Gedding;  the  Rev. 
Robert  Redpath,  M.A.,  London;  W.  E.  Whitehouse,  Esq.,  Bir- 
mingham, I  have  received  various  memorabilia,  communicated  with 
such  ungrudging  alacrity  and  kindness  as  much  to  deepen  the  obli- 
gation. 

I  beg  to  thank  the  Rev.  J.  C.  Robertson,  Canterbury ;  the  Rev. 
Hastings  Robinson,  D.D.,  Great  Warley;  the  Rev.  Wilham  West, 
Hawarden;  the  Rev.  William  Webster,  M.A.,  Richmond  ;  Charles 
Bird,  Esq.,  London  ;  the  Rev.  Dr  Cairns,  Berwick ;  the  Rev.  Dr 
Bonar,  Kelso  ;  the  Rev.  Dr  Bryce,  Belfast ;  and  the  Rev.  Thomas 
Smith,  M.A.,  Edinburgh,  and  numerous  anonymous  correspond- 
ents, for  service  in  verification  of  references  in  this  volume  and 
those  that  are  to  follow.  I  am  sure  the  edition  will  owe  much 
to  the  wilHng  hand  and  vigilant  eye  of  the  last-named  gentle- 
man, as  General  Editor  of  the  series,  in  revision  of  the  proofs  with 
myself. 

It  would  be  ungrateful  not  to  acknowledge  the  unvarying  courtesy 
with  which  I  have  been  pennitted  access  to  the  stores  of  the  great 
libraries,  e.  g.,  British  Museum,  where  Mr  Watt,  as  he  is  to  all,  was 
ever  eager  to  assist ;  Red  Cross  Street ;  University  and  Advocates', 
Edinburgh.  Nor  can  I  withhold  a  grateful  word  from  the  Editors 
and  Coi-respondents  of  'Notes  and  Queries,'  and  other  hterary 
journals,  whose  columns  I  have  had  occasion  to  use.  I  have 
endeavoured  to  leave  no  source  of  information  unconsulted,  and 
have  given  the  authority  for  my  statements,  whether  in  Memoir  or 
Notes.  '  For  in  all  faculties,  their  writings  have  been  of  longest 
continuance,  who  have  made  fairest  use  of  other  authors.'  '  For 
mine  owne,  either  judgment  or  opinion '  also,  with  the  foregoing,  in 
the  words  of  Sir  John  Hayward,  '  as  I  do  nothing  the  more  value 
the  spider's  for  that  she  draweth  it  out  of  her  own  bowels  ;  so  doe 
I  not  esteeme  the  lesse  of  the  honeycombe,  because  it  is  gathered 
out  of  many  flowers.'— (Sanctuary  of  a  Troubled  Soul,  Part  ii.  To 
the  Reader,  1631. 18mo).  Wherever  I  have  been  indebted  to  a  pre- 
decessor, it  is  duly  recorded. 

And  now,  with  unfeigned  diffidence  in  myself  and  my  part,  but 
with  the  conviction  that  no  common  service  is  being  rendered  to 
Christian  literature  by  this  edition  of  Sibbes,  I  would  say,  in  the 
words  of  Isaak  Walton,  '  If  I  have  prevented  an  abler  person,  I  beg 
pardon  of  him  and  my  reader.' — {Intr.  to  Life  of  Herbert.) 

A.  B.  G. 

1st  Manse, 
Kinross,  2d  May  1862. 


MEMOIR  OF  RICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D. 


CHAPTER  I. 

'  MEMORIALS  '  THAT  MIGHT  HAVE  BEEN. 

Izaak  Walton— Dr  William   Gouge— Eichard  Baxter— John  Davenport,  B.D.— 
Leading  '  Puritans  '— Sibbes's  own  indiiTerence. 

There  are  more  than  common  reasons  to  cause  regret  that  hitherto 
there  has  not  been,  and  in  this  later  time  can  scarcely  be,  a  worthy 
life  of  the  'heavenly'  Eichard  Sdjbes  (the   adjective,  like   the 
'venerable'  Bede,  the  'judicious'  Hooker,  the  'holy'  Baxter,  being 
the  almost  invariable  epithet  associated  with  every  mention  of  his 
name,  through  many  generations   after  his  departure).*     I  look 
upon   my  own   gatherings,  after  no   small  expenditure  of  time 
and  endeavour,  all  the  more  sorrowfully  because  of  these  reasons. 
I  would  fain  have  placed  upon  the  honoured  forehead   of  the 
author  of  the  'Bruised  Reed'  and  'Soul's  Conflict'  a  wreath  of 
'amaranthine   flowers;'   but   alas!   have   instead   with   difficulty 
gleaned  a  few  crushed  and  withered  leaves,  some  poor  spires  of 
faded  grass  and  braids  of  grave-stone  moss,  with  perchance  a  sprig 
of  not  altogether  scentless  thyme  ;  whereas  in  the  course  of  my 
researches,  I  have  come  upon  various  notices  and  scintillations  of 
revelation,  which  shew  how  different  it  might  have  been  had  con- 
temporaries discharged  their  duty.     These  tantalizing  indications 

*  '  Heavenly.'  The  famous  Dr  Manton  thus  speaks  of  him  :  '  This  is  mentioned 
....  because  of  that  excellent  and  peculiar  gift  which  the  worthy  and  reverend 
author  had  in  unfolding  and  applying  the  great  mysteries  of  the  gospel  in  a  sweet 
and  melhfluous  way  ;  and,  therefore,  was  by  his  hearers  usually  termed  the  "  sweet 
dropper"— sweet  and  heavenly  distillations  usually  dropping  from  him  with  such  a 
nativeelegancy,  as  is  not  easily  to  be  imitated.'— (To  the  Reader  ....  Commentary 
....  on  2  Cor.  i.).  'That  "heavenly"  man,'  says  Zachary  Catlin  ;  and  Neal, 
'  His  works  discover  him  to  have  been  of  a  "  heavenly,"  evangelical  spirit.'— (Hist 
of  the  Puritans,  vol.  i.  582,  edition,  3  vols.  8vo,  1837.J 

VOL.  I.  J 


XX.  MEMOIE  OF  EICHAKD  SIBBES,  D.D. 

of  personal  knowledge,  and  ot  reserved  and  now  lost  information, 
may  perhaps  most  fitly  introduce  our  narrative. 

First  of  all,  in  that  '  Last  Will  and  Testament/  over  which  so 
many  eyes  have  brimmed  with  unsorrowing  tears — drawn  out  '  in 
a  full  age,'  very  shortly  before  the  venerable  writer  went  up  to  lay 
his  silver  crown  of  gray  hairs  at  His  feet — good,  gentle,  blithely 
garrulous  Izaak  "Walton  bequeaths,  among  numerous  other  tokens 
and  legacies,  his  copies  of  the  '  Bruised  Reed'  and  '  Soul's  Conflict,' 
and  there  gleams  upon  the  antique  deed,  like  a  ray  of  sunlight, 
these  noteworthy  words  about  them  : — '  To  my  son  Izaak,  I  give 
Doctor  Sibbes  his  Soul's  Conflict,  and  to  my  daughter  his  Bruised 
Reed,  desiring  them  to  read  them  so  as  to  be  well  acquainted 
WITH  THEM.'*  Nor  was  this  the  only  expression  of  esteem  for 
Sibbes  by  the  '  old  man  eloquent.'  In  a  copy  of '  The  Returning 
Backslider,'  now  preserved  in  Salisbury  Cathedral  library,  he  has 
written  this  inscription  : — 

'  Of  tLis  blest  man,  let  this  just  praise  be  given, 
Heaven  was  in  him,  before  he  was  in  heaven. — Izaak  Walton.' 

Pity  that  either  Wotton  was  not  assigned  to  another,  or  that  Richard 
Sibbes  made  not  a  sixth  to  the  golden  five  '  Lives'  of  this  most 
quaintly-wise  and  wisely-quaint  of  all  our  early  English  biographers. 
How  lovingly,  how  tenderly,  with  salt  of  wit  and  warbling  of  poetic 
prose,  would  he  have  made  *  sacrifice  to  the  memory '  (his  own 
phrase)  of  Master  Richard  Sibbes,  the  more  than  equal  of  Donne 
or  Herbert,  Sanderson  or  Wotton,  and  only  in  degree,  not  in  kind, 
beneath  Hooker  himself. 

Again,  in  Sibbes's  own  will,  the  usual  sum  was  left  to  Dr  William 
Gouge  of  '  Blackfryer's,  London,'  to  preach  a  funeral  sermon.  The 
wording  runs,  '  To  my  reverend  frende  Dr  Gouge,  I  doe  give  as  a 
testimony  of  my  love,  twenty  shillings,  desiring  him  to  take  the 
paynes  to  preach  my  funeral  sermon.'  Pity  once  more  that 
this  noble  preacher,  whose  great  '  Exposition  of  Hebrews '  is 
worthy  of  a  place  beside  the  kindredly-massive  folios  of  John 
Owen,  having  preached  it,  as  he  doubtless  did,  gave  not  his  '  ser- 
mon' to  the  press.  Spoken  by  one  who  was  his  fellow-student 
at  the  university,  and  who  knew  and  greatly  loved  him,  while 
men's  eyes  were  yet  wet  for  him,  while  the  tones  of  his  'sweet- 
dropping'  voice  (Manton's  word)  still  lingered  in  the  groined  roof 
of  the  chapel  of  Gray's  Inn,  it  must  have  contained  not  a  little  that 
we  of  the  nineteenth  century  would  have  prized.  It  is  vexatious 
that  importunity  should  have  got  printed  this  large-thoughted  man  s 

*  '  Will  of  Walton.'  Introductory  Essay  to  '  The  Angler'  by  Major,  4th  edition, 
1844,  pp.  xlii.-vi. 


MEMOIR  OP  KICHAED  SIBBES,  D.D.  XSl 

funeral  sermons,  for  a  '  Mrs  Margaret  Ducke  !'  and  numerous  others 
equally  unknown,  and  secured  not  this. 

Further,  Richard  Baxter,  his  survivor  for  upwards  of  half  a  cen- 
tury, might  have  been  the  biographer  of  Sibbes.  In  the  story  of 
his  earlier  days,  in  that  marvellous  '  Reliquiae  Baxterianas,'  which 
won  the  heart  of  Coleridge,  he  speaks  gratefully  of  him  : — *  About 
that  time  [his  fifteenth  year]  it  pleased  God  that  a  poor  pedlar 
came  to  the  door  that  had  ballads  and  some  good  books,  and 
my  father  bought  of  him  Dr  Sibbes's  Bruised  Reed.  This  also  I 
read,  and  found  it  suited  my  state  and  seasonably  sent  me,  which 
opened  more  the  love  of  God  to  me,  and  gave  me  a  livelier  appre- 
hension of  the  mystery  of  redemption,  and  how  much  I  was  beholden 
to  Jesus  Christ.'*  This  circumstance  alone,  observes  Granger,  in 
his  meagre  and  chary  fashion  missing  the  right  word  'immortal,' 
would  have  rendered  his  (Sibbes's)  name  memorable.'^j*  How 
priceless  would  have  been  a  life  of  Sibbes  from  this  like-minded  man, 
as  a  companion  to  his  Alleine  !  How  thankfully  should  we  have 
spared  half  a  dozen  of  liis  '  painful'  controversial  books  for  half 
a  dozen  pages  of  such  a  memoir  ! 

Nor  is  my  roll  of  casualties — shall  I  say  ? — done.  In  the  address 
*to  the  Christian  Reader,'  prefixed  to  'The  knowledge  of  Christ 
indispensably  required  of  all  men  who  would  be  saved'  (4!to, 
1653),  of  John  Davenport,  who,  like  Gouge,  was  Sibbes's  contem- 
porary, coadjutor,  and  bosom  friend,  he  informs  us  of  a  grievous 
loss  to  himself  and  to  us  : — '  My  far  distance  from  the  press,'  he 
says,  dating  from  his  sequestered  '  study  in  Newhaven,'  New 
England,  '  and  the  hazards  of  so  long  a  voyage  by  sea,  had  almost 
discouraged  me  from  transmitting  this  copy ;  foreseeing  that  what- 
soever ffpaX/xarat  are  committed  by  the  printer,  men  disaffected 
will  impute  it  to  the  author  ;  and  being  sensible  of  my  great  loss 
of  some  manuscripts  by  a  wreck  at  sea,  together  with  the  lives 
OF  SUNDRY  precious  ONES,  about  six  years  since.'  From  the  peculi- 
arly close  and  endeared  friendship  between  the  two,  there  can  be  little 
doubt  that  among  those  precious  ones  would  be  Richard  Sibbes. 

Then  again,  we  have  Thomas  Goodwin,  Thomas  Manton,  and 
Philip  Nye,  Simeon  Ash,  and  Jeremiah  Burroughs,  John  Sedgwick, 
Arthur  Jackson,  James  Nalton,  and  John  Dod,  John  Hill,  John 
Goodwin,  Robert  Towne,  Joseph  Church,  Lazarus  Seaman,  Wilham 
Taylor,  Ezekiel  Culverwell,  in  truth,  all  the  foremost  puritan  names 
of  the  period,  as  the  writers  of  '  Prefaces,'  '  Epistles,'  '  Dedications.' 

*  '  Baxter,'  R.  B.,  pp.  3,  4,  lib.  i.,  pt.  1,  1696,  folio. 

t  '  Granger,'  Biog.  Hist,  of  England,  2d  edition,  1776. 

X  Tliat  is,  '  slips,  blunders.' 


XXU  MEMOIR  OF  KICHABB  SIBBES,  D.D. 

addresses  '  To  tlie  E-eader,'  in  tlie  original  quartos  and  duodecimos 
as  they  were  issued  in  quick  succession.  In  these  there  are  pro- 
voking hints,  so  to  speak,  of  withheld  information.  Thus  say  Ash, 
Nalton,  and  Church  :  '  The  scope  and  business  of  this  epistle  is  not 
so  much  to  commend  the  workman  (whose  name  is  a  sweet  savour 
to  the  church),  as  to  give  a  short  and  summary  view  of  the  generals 
handled  in  this  treatise.  Though  much  might  be  said  of  this 
eminent  saint,  if  either  detraction  had  fastened  her  venomous  nails 
in  his  precious  name,  or  the  testimony  of  the  subscribers  of  this 
epistle  might  give  the  book  a  freer  admission  into  thy  hands.'* 
Again,  John  Goodwin  thus  pleads  :  '  Good  reader,  to  discourse  the 
worth  or  commendations  of  the  author,  especially  the  pens  of  others 
having  done  sacrifice  unto  him  in  that  kind,  /  judge  it  but  an 
unpertinency,  and  make  no  question  but  that  if  I  should  exchange 
thoughts  or  judgments  with  thee  herein,  /  should  have  but  mme 
01V71  again'-f"  A  sketch  of  our  saintly  Calvinist  by  the  great  Ar- 
minian  would  have  been  worth  having. 

Once  more,  Arthur  Jackson,  William  Taylor,  and  James  Nalton, 
deem  any  enlargement  supererogatory  :  '  We  need  say  nothing  of 
THE  author,  his  former  labours  sufiiciently  '  speak  for  him  in  the 
gates,'  his  memory  is  highly  honoured  ajviongst  the  GODLY 
LEARNED.  He  that  enjoys  the  glory  of  heaven  needs  not  the 
praises  of  men  upon  earth.'ij: 

Further,  how  many  pleasant  memories  lay  behind,  when  Jeremiah 
Burroughs  thus  poured  out  his  reverence  and  love  :  *  Bless  God  for 

this  work,  AND  THE  MAN  THAT  INDITED  IT,  a  man,  for 

matter  always  full,  for  notions  sublime,  for  expression  clear,  for 
style  concise — a  man  spiritually  rational  and  rationally  spiritual — 
one  that  seemed  to  see  the  insides  of  nature  and  gi'ace  and  the  world 
and  heaven,  by  those  perfect  anatomies  he  hath  made  of  them  all.'§ 

Finally  (for  it  were  endless  to  cite  all),  in  the  '  Marrow  of  Eccle- 
siastical History'  (folio,  1675),  in  the  address  'to  the  Christian 
Reader,'  signed  '  Simeon  Ash,  John  Wall,'  we  read  :  '  Here,  we 
might  have  given  in  a  true  though  short  character  of  some  precious 
servants  and  ministers  of  Christ,  whose  graces  were  admired  whilst 
they  lived,  and  whose  memory  their  surviving  friends  do  much 
honour,  viz.,  Dr  Preston,  Sibbes,  Taylor,  Stoughton,'  &c. 

There  are  again  and  again  such  things,  in  every  variety  of  loving 

*  '  To  the  Reader.'  Heavenly  Conference  betwixt  Christ  and  Mary,  12nio,  1654. 
4to,  1656. 

t  'To  the  Reader,'  Exposition  of  3d  chapter  of  Philippians,  &c.,  4to,  1639. 
t  '  To  the  Reader,'  Glorious  Feast  of  the  Gospel,  4to,  1650. 
i  '  To  the  Reader,'  The  Christian's  Portion,  12mo.  1638- 


MEMOIR  OF  RICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D.  XXIU 

epithet,  but  we  look  in  vain  for  any  adequate  memorial  of  the 
tender  and  tenderly  treasured  friendships  ;  for  even  the  welcome 
gossip  that  abounds,  of  far  inferior  men. 

The  '  evil  days  and  evil  tongues,'  the  crowding  and  trampling  of 
events,  England's  'iX/aj  %axuv,  that  made  men  hold  their  breath  and 
ask,  '  What  next  V  explains,  if  it  does  not  mitigate,  the  neglect  of 
Sibbes's  friends  to  place  on  record  their  knowledge  and  wealth  of 
regard  for  him.  He  departed  when  the  shadows  of  great  calamities 
were  falling,  huge  and  dark,  over  the  nation — calamities  that  were 
to  recall,  as  with  a  clarion-blast,  John  Milton  from  Italy  ;  and  it  is 
easily  to  be  understood,  how,  under  such  circumstances,  there 
was  delay  issuing  in  forgetfulness.  To  all  this  must  be  added 
Sibbes's  own  splendid  indifference  to  any  blazoning  of  his  name 
or  fame,  other  than  what  might  come  spontaneously.  His  three 
small  volumes — all  that  were  published  during  his  own  life, 
under  his  own  sanction — were  literally  compelled  from  him.  Of 
the  first,  the  '  Bruised  E.eed,'  he  tells  us,  with  a  touch  of  complaint, 
almost  of  anger,  '  To  prevent  further  inconvenience,  I  was  drawn 
to  let  these  notes  pass  with  some  review,  considering  there  was  an 
intendment  of  publishing  them  by  some  who  had  not  perfectly 
taken  them.  And  these  first  as  being  next  at  hand.'  Of  the  '  Soul's 
Conflict,'  he  says  also,  '  I  began  to  preach  on  the  text  about  twelve 
years  since  in  the  city,  and  afterwards  finished  the  same  in  Gray's 
Inn.  After  which,  some  having  gotten  imperfect  notes,  endea- 
voured to  publish  the'/n  without  my  privity.  Therefore,  to  do 
myself  right,  I  thought  fit  to  reduce  them  to  this  form.' 

All  this  was  the  expression,  not  of  passing  irritation,  much  less 
of  petulancy  wearing  the  vizard  of  modesty,  but  of  principle.  For, 
in  his  '  Description  of  Christ,'  the  introductory  sermons  to  the 
*  Bruised  Reed'  (which  are  now  restored  to  their  proper  place),  he 
had  deprecated  all  eagerness  after  human  applause.  '  Let  us  com- 
mit the  fame  and  credit,'  says  he,  '  of  what  we  are  or  do  to  God. 
He  vjill  take  care  of  that,  let  us  take  care  to  be  and  to  do  as  we 
should,  and  then  for  noise  and  report,  let  it  be  good  or  ill  as  God 

will  send  it If  we  seek  to  be  in  the  mouths  of  m^en,  to  diuell 

in  the  talk  and  speech  of  men,  God  will  ahhor  us Therefore 

let  us  labour  to  be  good  in  secret.  Christians  should  be  as  minerals, 
rich  in  the  depth  of  the  earth.  That  which  is  least  seen  is  his  (the 
Christian's)  riches.  We  should  have  our  treasure  deep ;  for  the 
discovery  of  it,  we  should  be  ready  when  we  are  called  to  it ;  and 
for  all  other  accidental  things,  let  it  fall  out  as  God  in  his  wisdom 

sees  good God  will  be  careful  enough  to  get  us  applause. 

....  As  much  reputation  as  is  fit  for  a  man  will  follow  him  in 


XXIV  MEMOIR  OF  EICHAED  SEBBES,  D.D. 

being  and  doing  what  he  should.  God  will  look  to  that.  There- 
fore we  should  not  set  up  sails  to  our  own  meditations,  that  unless 
we  be  carried  with  the  wind  of  applause,  to  be  becalmed,  and  not 
go  a  whit  forward,  but  we  should  be  carried  with  the  Spirit  of  God, 
and  with  a  holy  desire  to  serve  God  and  our  brethren,  and  to  do 
all  the  good  we  can,  and  never  care  for  the  speeches  of  the  world, 
....  "We  should,  from  the  example  of  Christ,  labour  to  subdue 
this  infirmity,  which  we  are  sick  of  naturally.  .  .  .'  Then,  in  words 
that  have  the  ring  of  Bacon  in  them,  'We  shall  have  glory 
enough,  and  be  known  enough  to  devils,  to  angels,  and  men,  ere 
long.  Therefore,  as  Christ  lived  a  hidden  life — that  is,  he  was  not 
known  what  he  was,  that  so  he  might  work  our  salvation,  so  let 
us  be  content  to  be  hidden  ones.'  More  grandly,  and  even  more 
like  a  stray  sentence  from  '  The  Essayes,'  he  elsewhere  gives  the 
secret  of  his  unconcern  as  to  what  men  might  say  or  leave  unsaid 
of  him.  '  There  will  be  a  resurrection  of  credits,  as  well  as 
of  bodies.  We'll  have  glory  enough  BY  AND  BY.'  The  very  ease, 
nay,  negligence  of  that  'by  and  by'  (recalling  Henry  Vaughan's 
'  other  night,'  in  his  superb  vision  of  the  great  ring  of  eternity), 
sets  before  us  one  who  '  looked  not  at  the  things  that  are  seen  and 
temporal,  but  at  the  things  unseen  and  eternal,'  one  who  would 
shine  not  in  the  lower  firmament  of  human  fame,  but  up  higher, 
in  the  '  new  heavens,'  as  a  star  for  ever  and  ever. 

With  all  explanations,  and  all  the  modesty  of  Sibbes  himself, 
we  cannot  help  lamenting  that  his  contemporaries  so  readily  ac- 
quiesced in  his  choice  of  being  a  '  hidden  one.' 

But  I  must  now  try  to  put  together  such  particulars  as  have  been 
found,  and  in  proceeding  to  do  so  it  can  only  be  needful  to  remind 
those  who  have  attempted  similar  service,  of  the  Greek  proverb — 
ToTg  atrox)  'a-Tro^ovGi  Gvovbdl^ovrai  o'l  o'gojSo/ — which  may  be  freely  rendered, 
*  Chick-peas  are  eagerly  sought  after  when  we  lack  corn.' 

CHAPTER  II. 

PARENTAGE  AND  BIRTH — BIRTH-PLACE  AND  SCHOOLS. 

Suffolk — Martyrs  and '  Puritans' — Name,  its  various  orthography — Bishop  Mountagu 
— '  Blue  fcZoorf'— Tennyson — Birth-place,  Tostock,  not  Sudbury — Zachary  Catlin 
— The  old  English  Village — Removal  to  Thurston — The  '  Wheel-wright' — 
School  at  Pakenham — Richard  Brigs — The  '  boy  father  of  the  man' — John 
Milton — Contemporary  '  boys' — Grammar-school  at  Bury  St  Edmunds — Father 
begrudges  '  expense' — Master  Sibbes  put  in  the  '  wheel-'wright's'  shop — Friends 
step  in. 

Richard  Sibbes  was  a  native  of  Suffolk,  one  of  the  great  martyr 
and  puritan  counties  of  England,  that  furnished  many  of  the  early 


MEMOIB  OF  BICHAKD  SIBBES,  D.D.  XXV 

fugitives  to  Holland,  a  very  unusual  proportion  of  the  emigrants 
to  New  England  (whose  lustrous  names  are  still  talismans  over 
the  Atlantic),  and  nearly  a  hundred  of  the  'ejected'  two-thousand 
of  1662.  The  name  '  Sibbes'  is  variously  spelled.  The  spelling 
now  given,  and  adopted  in  our  title-page,  is  his  own  signature  to 
his  own  dedications  and  'epistles  to  the  reader.'  But  he  is  fre- 
quently called  Sibbs,  and  such  is  the  orthography  of  his  Will,  as 
well  as  of  his  heirs  and  their  descendants.  There  is  a  third  vari- 
ation, Sybbes  or  Sybesius.  But  it  is  the  Latinized  form,  as 
it  occurs  in  Richterus  Eedivivus.*  A  fourth,  Sibs,  is  common 
to  many  of  the  original  editions,  and  furnishes  a  side-thrust  in  a 
play  upon  the  word  to  Bishop  Mountagu,  in  his  '  Appello  ad  Csesarem' 
(1625),  that  over-clever  '  Defence.'  Even  thus  early  Sibbes  was 
speaking  bravely  out  in  his  post  at  '  Gray's  Inn'  against  the  semi- 
popish  practices  of  the  prelates ;  and  the  venal  bishop,  afraid  to 
strike  openly,  must  needs  hint  dislike  in  this  taunt,  'So  ...  .  with 
our  Puritans,  very  Sibs  unto  those  fathers  of  the  society,  every 
moderate  man  is  bedaubed  with  these  goodly  habiliments  of  Ar- 
minianism,  popery,  and  what  not,  unless  he  will  be  frantic  with 
them  for  their  holy  cause.' ■}•  This  may,  perchance,  be  a  mere  jest- 
ing use  of  the  word  '  sib,'  but  the  capital  S  and  plural,  and  the 
man,  seem  to  indicate  an  intended  hit  at  our  author,  ever  out- 
spoken against  such  as  the  unquestionably  astute  but  also  unques- 
tionably unscrupulous  Richard  Mountagu.  The  earliest  occurrence 
of  the  name  that  I  have  met  with  is  in  a  Robert  Sibbes  or  Sybbs  of 
Cony-Weston,  Norfolk,  who,  in  1524,  purchased  Ladie's  I\tanor, 
Rockland-Tofts,  which  again  was  sold  by  his  son  and  heir,  also  a 
Robert,  in  1594  J  Perhaps,  by  further  inquiries,  it  might  be  possible 
to  connect  the  neighbouring  Norfolk  with  the  Suffolk  Sibbeses  ;  and, 
though  I  have  searched  in  vain  in  Burke's  'Armoury,'  and  all 
through  the  Davy  '  Suffolk  MSS.,'§  for  genealogical  record,  it  is  pos- 
sible that  further  research  might  even  shew  'blue  blood'  in  the 
descent  of  the  author  of  the  '  Bruised  Reed.'     But  it  would  serve 

*  '  Eichterus  Eedivivus.'  In  a  curious  letter  of  Christopher  Arnold,  containing  new 
and  apparently  unused  information  about  Milton.  Writing  to  Geo.  Eichter  (from 
Lond.,  A.D.  7  Aug.  (sic)  1651,  printed  in  Eichterus  Eedivivus,  p.  485),  he  says,  '  In 
Academia  Cantabrigiensi  vir  peramans  mei,  Abrah.  "Whelocus,  Arab,  atque  Anglo- 
BaxonicsB  Linguarum  Professor  et  Bibliothecarius  publicus  codices  manuscriptos  cum 

primis  Grsecos,  &c Obstupui  in  Johannitica  (bibliotheca),  cum  mihi  magnum 

sacrorum  librorum  Grsecobarbarorum  copiam  ofctenderent,  a  benefactore  quodam 
anonymo,  suasions  Eichardi  Sybbes,  S.  Th.  Prof,  et  hujus  Coll.  quondam  socii  seni- 
oris,  A.D.  1628,  dono  oblatorum.' 

t  '  Appello  ad  Cajsarem,  a  Just  Appeale  from  Two  Unjust  Informers.'  By  Eichard 
Mountagu.     4to,  1625,  p.  139. 

X  Blomefield's  Norfolk,  vol.  i.,  pp.  481-82.      g  In  British  Museum.    Addl.  MSS. 


XXYl  MEMOIE  OF  EICHAED  SIBBES,  D.D. 

little  purpose  to  do  so,  or  to  prove  him  '  sib'  to  this,  that,  or  the  other 

great  family.  The  far-fountained  'red'  ichor  that  has  come  down  from 

'  The  grand  old  gardener  and  his  wife  '* 

suffices,  the  more  especially  as,  at  the  time  of  his  birth  at  least, 
our  author's  family  was  assuredly  lowly,  and  of  the  people  : 

'  Kind  hearts  are  more  than  coronets, 
And  simple  faith  than  Norman  blood.'f 

In  all  preceding  notices,  Sudbury,  the  old  town,  so  far  back  as  Ed- 
ward III.'s  times  inhabited  by  the  Flemings,  is  given  as  Sibbes's 
birth-place.  '  At  Sudbury,'  says  Neal  ('  History  of  the  Puritans'),  and 
Brook  ('  Lives  of  the  Puritans'),  and  so  all  the  '  Biographical  Diction- 
aries.' 'Nigh  Sudbury,'  says  Fuller  \  '  At  the  edges  of  Suffolk,  near 
Sudbury,'  says  Clarke.  This  is  a  mistake.  The  town,  'as  great  as 
most,  and  ancient  as  any,'  according  to  Thomas  Fuller,  that  can 
boast  of  Thomas  Gainsborough  and  Thomas  Constable  later,  as 
natives,  and  of  Faithful  Teate,  William  Jenkjm,  and  Samuel  Peyto 
earlier,  as  ministers,  can  afford  to  give  up  an  honour  to  which  it  has 
no  claim.  Tostock,  not  Sudbury,  was  his  birth-place.  The  '  regis- 
ters' of  the  period,  of  Sudbury  and  Tostock  alike,  have  perished; 
but  a  contemporary  manuscript  'Memoir'  of  Sibbes,  from  the  pen 
of  Zacha«r  Catlin  (of  whom  more  anon),  which  the  stream  of  time, 
while  engulphing  so  much  else  of  what  was  precious  and  what  was 
worthless,  has  floated  doAvn  and  placed  by  lucky  accident  in  my 
possession,  states  the  fact.  As  this  contemporary  manuscript 
must  be  frequently  laid  under  contribution  in  the  sequel,  it 
may  be  as  well  to  give  here  its  proem,  which  is  sufficient, 
apart  from  what  will  subsequently  appear,  to  attest  its  au- 
thority and  trustworthiness.  '  At  the  request  of  a  noble  friend, 
Sir  William  Spring,  I  have  here  willingly  contributed  to  the  happy 
memory  of  that  worthy  man  of  God,  Dr  Sibbes,  a  few  such  flowers 
as  I  could  collect,  either  from  the  certain  relation  of  those  that 
kneiv  his  first  education,  or  from  mine  own  observation  ofhimsit 
that  distance  whereat  we  lived.  And  if  anything  here  recorded 
may  seem  convenient  for  his  purpose,  who  is  (as  I  am  informed) 

*  and  t  Tennyson.    '  Lady  Clara  Vere  de  Vere  '    Even  were  it  possible  to  trace  the 
name  of  Sibbes  up  to  '  Norman  blood,'  we  must  remember  our  Scottish  proverbs : — 
A'  Stuarts  are  no  sib  to  the  king,  "l      =  Though  of  the  same  name, 

A'  Campbells  are  no  sib  to  the  duke,        J  not  of  the  same  family. 

Moreover,  as  he  says  himself  of  another  (Sherland),  'What  should  I  speak  of  these 
things,  when  he  has  personal  worth  enough  ?  I  need  not  go  abroad  to  commend 
this  man,  for  there  were  those  graces  and  gifts  in  him  that  made  him  so  esteemed, 
that  verily  I  think  no  man  of  his  place  and  years  lived  more  desired,  and  died  more 
lamented.'     ('  Christ  is  Best,'  page  347  of  this  volume  of  the  works.) 


MEMOIR  OF  EICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D.  XXVll 

about  to  publish  tbe  lives  of  some  worthies  deceased,  I  shall  think 
my  labour  well  bestowed.  For  I  am  not  of  that  philosopher's 
mind,  who  lighting  upon  a  book  newly  put  forth,  entitled,  "  The  En- 
comium of  Hercules,"  cast  it  away,  ssijmg,Et  quis  LacedcemonioruTn 
eum  vituperavit?  accounting  it  a  needless  work  to  praise  him  whom 
no  man  did  or  could  find  fault  withal.  I  rather  judge  it  a  com- 
mendable thing  to  perpetuate  and  keep  fresh  the  memory  of  such 
worthy  men  whose  examples  may  be  of  use  for  imitation  in  this 
declining  and  degenerate  age.'*  I  give  his  ipsissima  verba  of  the 
birth-place,  as  above,  and  embrace  in  the  quotation  the  birth-date 
as  well.  '  But  I  come  to  the  matter.  This  Richard,  the  eldest  son 
of  Paul  Sibs  and  Johan  [=  Joanna  ?]  was  bom  at  Tostock,  in  Suffolk, 
four  miles  from  Bury,  anno  domini  1577.'i*  The  source  of  the 
blunder  of  making  Sudbury  the  birth-place  is  evidently  confound- 
ing 'Bury'  St  Edmunds  with  Sudbury.  Tostock  is  'nigh'  the 
former,  but  not  'nigh'  the  latter,  and  cannot  at  all  be  described  as 
*  on  the  edges'  of  Suffolk,  being  fifteen  or  twenty  miles  in  the 
interior.  Tostock,  to  which  I  thus  restore,  if  not  in  the  popular 
sense  a  great,  at  least  a  revered,  name,  and  one  of  which  any  place 
might  be  proud,  remains  to-day  very  much  as  we  may  suppose  it  to 
have  been  two  hundred  years  ago,  except  perhaps  that  '  its  tide 
of  work  has  ebbed  away,'  and  it  is  now  wholly  rural.  It  is  a  small 
sequestered  village  in  Thedwestry  hundred,  about,  as  we  have  seen, 
four  miles  from  Bury  St  Edmunds,  and  about  thirteen  miles  from 

Sudbury. 

'  A  quaint,  old,  gabled  place 
With  Church  stamped  on  its  face. 

Exactly  such  a  '  village '  as  '  Our  Village '  has  made  dear  to  us  all. 
Its  few  picturesquely  scattered  houses  cluster  around  an  unenclosed 
'common'  (once  abundant  in  'merry  England,'  but  now  sparse), 
and  present  fine  specimens  of  what  every  year  is  seeing  disappear 
— the  peaked-roofed,  mossy-thatched,  or  saffron-tiled  '  homes '  of  our 
forefathers  of  the  16th  and  l7th  centuries,  with  every  '  coign  of  van- 
tage' of  the  over-hanging  upper  storeys  and  lozenge-paned  windows, 

'  Held  by  old  swallows  on  a  lease  of  love 
Unbroken,  immemorial ;' 

and  little  gardens  a-front  flinging  out  into  the  air  the  breath  of 

*  Above  and  throughout  I  modernise  the  orthography ;  but  in  Appendix  A  to 
this  Memoir  I  reprint  from  my  MS.  the  whole  very  interesting  document.  Thither 
I  refer  for  further  information  concerning  its  author, 

t  Neal  gives  1579,  and  is  followed  by  others;  but  the  misprint  is  corrected  by  the 
statement  that  his  death  took  place  in  1635,  in  his  57th  year,  which,  however,  ought 
to  be  58th.  The  '  Registers'  of  Tostock  that  remain  commence  long  subsequent  to 
1577,  and  hence  the  date  of  his  hhth-day  is  lost. 


XXYIU  UEMOIB  OF  BICHABD  SIBBES,  D.D. 

old-fashioned  flowers.     It  is  pleasant  in  our  day  to  come  upon 
such  a  virgin  spot. 

*  For  it  is  well,  amid  the  whirr 
Of  restless  wheels  and  busy  stir, 
To  find  a  quiet  spot  where  live 
Fond,  pious  thoughts  conservative, 
That  ring  to  an  old  chime, 
And  bear  the  moss  of  time. 


*  And  sweeter  far  and  grander  too 
The  ancient  civilisation  grew, 
With  holy  war  and  busy  work 
Beneath  the  spire  and  round  the  kirk 

Than  miles  of  brick  and  stone 

In  godless  monotone.' 

The  'church,'  lichened  and  lady-ferned,  but  in  excellent  preser- 
vation, is  approached  by  a  fragrant  lane  that  strikes  off  from 
'  the  rectory,' 

'     .    .     .    where  the  budding  purple  rose, 

Prolific  of  its  gifts,  the  long  year  through 

Breaks  into  beauty. 

It  is  dedicated  to  St  Andrew. 

'  Nor  gargoyle  lacks,  grotesque  and  quaint, 
Nor  saintly  niche  without  its  saint, 
Nor  buttress  lightsome,  nor  the  tower, 
Where  the  bell  marks  the  passing  hour. 
And  peals  out  with  our  mirth. 
And  tolls  our  earth  to  earth.' 

The  '  font' — from  which  no  doubt  little  Richard  Sibbes  was  bap- 
tized— is  noticeable.  The  'benches'  are  of  dark  oak,  grotesquely 
carved.  The  graves  around  are  ozier-woven,  and  on  some  of  the 
stones,  the  once  great  Suffolk  name  of  Bacon,  is  still  to  be  read  ; 
also  in  the  wrecks  of  the  'Registers'  that  remain,  the  mighty 
name  of  Wolsey  occurs,  as  elsewhere  in  the  neighbourhood  (by  a 
strange  link  with  Germany  and  the  Reformation),  is  to  be  found 
that  of  Luther.  We  visited  the  primitive  hamlet  on  one  of 
the  finest  of  English  September  days,  and  our  Scottish  eye  and 
lieart  were  touched  with  the  quiet  English  scenery,  long  familiar 
by  the  'landscapes'  of  Suffolk's  Gainsborough  and  Constable,  and 
her  poets,  Bloomfield  and  Crabbe.  There  were  the  '  Cart  on  a 
Road,'  '  Cows  crossing  a  Ford,'  '  Boys  a-straddle  on  a  Gate,'  the 
'  Stile,'  ringed  with  honey-suckle,  and  now  the  glowing,  and  now 
the  bleak  originals  of  '  The  Farmer's  Boy'  and  of  'The  Borough.' 
Tostock  was  a  cheery,  sunny,  many-memoried  birth-place ;  to 
this  hour,  with  its  sister-villages,  possessing  traditions  of  martyrs 
and   reformers,  Rowland  Taylor   and  Yeoman,  and,   farther   off, 


MEMOIR  OF  RICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D.  XXIX 

Hooper  and  Coverdale  and  John  Rogers,  and  legends  of  the  Tudors 
and  the  Commonwealth.  For  a  'Puritan'  none  could  have  been 
more  fitting,  for  all  around  were  the  family  seats  of  grand  old 
Puritan  worthies,  Barton-Mere,  Talmach  Hall,  Pakenham,  Nether 
Hall,  where  '  godly  ministers '  were  ever  welcome  to  the  Bar- 
nardistons  and  Brights,  Veres  and  Brooks,  Winthrops  and  Riches, 
Springs  and  Cavendishes,  and  the  Bacon  stock. 

But  Sibbes  was  very  soon  removed  thence  to  Thurston,  a  similar 
hamlet  only  about  three  miles  distant.  Here,  our  old  worthy  the 
Vicar  of  Thurston  informs  us,  Mr  and  Mrs  Sibbes  '  lived  in  honest 
repute,  brought  up  and  married  divers  children,  purchased  some 
houses  and  lands,  and  there  both  deceased.' 

There  will  be  something  to  say  afterward  of  these  '  divers  chil- 
dren' who  were  'married ;'  but  it  is  to  be  regretted  that,  the  'registers 
having  perished,  no  positive  light  can  be  cast  on  the  dates  of  the  de- 
cease of  the  elder  folks,  except  that  the  father  was  dead  before  1608. 
Concerning  him  this  is  Catlin's  testimony  :  '  His  father  was  by  his 
trade  a  wheel-wright,  a  skilful  and  painful  workman,  and  a  good, 
sound-hearted  Christian.'  '  Skilful  and  painful'  *  were  very  weighty 
words  then,  particularly  '  painful,'  which  was  the  highest  praise 
that  could  be  given  to  a  laborious,  faithful,  evangelical  minister 
of  the  gospel.  It  is  found  in  many  an  olden  title-page,  and  un- 
derneath many  a  grave,  worn  face.  A  '  mill-wright,'  or  '  wheel- 
wright,' for  they  are  interchangeable,  was  by  no  means  an  unim- 
portant '  craftsman '  in  those  days.  In  country  places,  such  as 
Thurston  and  Tostock,  where  division  of  labour  could  not  be  car- 
ried so  far  as  in  the  large  towns,  the  '  wheel-wright '  was  compelled 
to  draw  largely  upon  his  own  resources,  and  to  devise  expedients  to 
meet  pressing  emergencies  as  they  arose.  Necessarily  this  made 
him  dexterous,  expert,  and  '  skilful '  in  mechanical  arrangements. 
If  thus  early,  the  whole  of  Smiles's  description,  on  whose  authority 
I  am  writing  this,-|-  does  not  hold  (for  he  speaks  of  him  devising 
steam-engines,  pumps,  cranes,  and  the  like) ;  yet  in  those  primitive 
days,  perhaps  more  than  some  generations  later,  such  tradesmen 
were,  in  all  cases  of  difficulty,  resorted  to,  and  looked  upon  as  a 
very  important  class  of  workmen  ;  while  the  nature  of  their  business 
tended  to  make  them  thoughtful,  decided,  self-reliant.  The  cradle  of 
Httle  Richard,  therefore,  would  seem  to  have  been  rocked  at  a  fireside 
not  altogether  unprosperous.  And  yet  there  must  have  been  in  the 
outset  somewhat  of  poverty  and  struggle,  or,  the  elder  Sibbes  will 
need  the  full  benefit  of  Catlin's  character  of  him.    For  our  guileless 

*  Painful  =  full  of  pains,  i.e.,  painstaking,  laborious. 

t  Smiles's  Life  of  Brindley,  in  Lives  of  the  Engineers,  vol  i.  p.  312. 


XXX  MEMOIR  OF  RICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D. 

chronicler,  carrying  us  swiftly  onward,  adds  immediately  thereafter, 
'  This  Richard  he  brought  up  in  learning  at  the  grammar  school, 
though  very  unwillingly  in  regard  of  the  charge!  We  will  in 
charity  give  Master  Paul  Sibs,  wheel-wright,  the  benefit  of  the 
vicar's  testimony,  and  ascribe  the  '  unwillingness '  to  the  res  angustcB 
domi.  Whether  or  not,  the  '  charge,'  I  fear,  had  prematurely 
removed  the  little  fellow  from  the  school  to  the  wheel-wright's 
bench,  but  for  his  own  bookish  tastes,  and  the  watchful  interest  of 
friends.  This  is  explicitly  affirmed  in  what  follows.  The  sentence 
above,  that  tells  us  of  the  unwilling  school-learning,  through  the 
'  charge,'  thus  continues — '  had  not  the  youth's  strong  inchnation 
to  his  books,  and  well  profiting  therein,  with  some  importunities  of 
friends,  prevailed  so  far  as  to  continue  him  at  school  till  he  was  fit 
for  Cambridge.'  Most  truly  the  '  boy  was  father  of  the  man.'  I 
turn  again  to  the  Izaak  Walton-like  words  of  the  Vicar  of  Thurston. 
He  says — '  Concerning  his  love  to  his  book,  and  his  industry  in 
study,  I  cannot  omit  the  testimony  of  Mr  Thomas  Clark,  high 
constable,  who  was  much  of  the  same  age,  and  went  to  school 
together  with  him  at  the  same  time,  with  one  Mr  Eichard  Brigs 
(afterward  head  master  of  the  Free  School  at  Norwich),  then 
teaching  at  Pakenham  church.  He  hath  often  told  me  that,  when 
the  boys  were  dismissed  from  school  at  the  usual  hours  of  eleven 
and  five  or  six,  and  the  rest  would  fall  to  their  pastime,  and  some- 
times to  playing  the  wags  with  him,  as  being  harmless  and  meanly 
apparelled  (for  the  most  part  in  leather),  it  was  this  youth's  con- 
stant course,  as  soon  as  he  could  rid  himself  of  their  unpleasing 
company,  to  take  out  of  his  pocket  or  satchel  one  book  or  other, 
and  so  to  go  reading  and  meditating  till  he  came  to  his  father's 
house,  which  was  near  a  mile  off,  and  so  he  went  to  school  again. 
This  was  his  order,  also,  when  his  father  sent  him  to  the  Free 
School  at  Bury,  three  or  four  miles  off,  every  day.  Whereby  the  said 
Mr  Clark  did  then  conceive,  that  he  would  in  time  prove  an  excel- 
lent and  able  man,  who  of  a  child  was  of  such  a  manly  staidness,  and 
indefatigable  industry  in  his  study.'*  Milton's  immortal  portraiture 
of  '  The  Child '  may  be  taken  to  describe  Master  Richard  : — 

'  "When  I  was  yet  a  child,  no  childish  play 
To  me  was  pleasing ;  all  my  mind  was  set, 
Serious  to  learn  and  know,  and  thence  to  do, 
What  might  be  public  good.' — Paradise  Regained.    [B.  i.  201-204.] 

The  '  school  near  Pakenham  church '  has  long  since  disappeared, 

*  '  Staidness'  is  the  very  word  Lord  Brooke  uses  to  describe  the  youthhood  of 
Sir  Philip  Sidney  :  and  indeed  his  whole  description  is  reflected  in  the  above.  Cf. 
the  Life  of  the  renowned  Sir  Philip  Sidney  (ed.  1652),  pp.  6,  7. 


MEMOIR  OF  EICHAED  SIBBES,  D.D.  XXXI 

and  nc  memorial  whatever  has  been  transmitted  of  it.  The  man- 
sion of  Pakenham  was  the  seat  of  the  Gages,  whence  the  mother  of 
Sir  Nicholas  Bacon,  father  of  the  Bacon,  came  ;  and  later  was  the 
residence  of  Sir  Wilham  Spring,  at  whose  request  Catlin  drew  up 
his  notice  of  Sibbes.  Probably,  we  err  not  in  tracing  back  the 
after-friendship  with  Sibbes  to  those  school-boy  days.  One  likes  to 
picture  little  Master  Richard  in  his  leathern  suit  (not  at  all  uncom- 
mon at  the  period),  studiously  walking  day  by  day  from  Pakenham 
to  Thurston,  and  home  again.  Nor  can  we  avoid  thinking  of  other 
'  boys,'  who  were  then  likewise  '  at  school,'  and  destined  to  cross  one 
another's  paths.  Not  a  few  of  them  will  be  found  united  in  inti- 
mate friendship  with  the  little  leathern-suited  pupil  of  Master  Brigs. 
With  others  he  came  into  conflict.  Tbey  are  relegated  to  a  foot- 
note.* 

Having  obtained  all  that  he  could,  apparently,  at  the  school  of 
Master  Brigs  (of  whom  nothing  has  come  down),  little  Richard,  as 
our  last  citation  from  the  vicar's  manuscript  has  anticipated  us  in 
stating,  was  sent  to  Bury  St  Edmunds,  to  the  *  Free  School'  there, 
by  which  must  be  intended  the  still  famous  '  School '  founded  by 
Edward  VI. ;  and  we  can  very  well  understand  the  zest  with  which 
one  so  thoughtful  and  eager  would  avail  himself  of  the  advantages  of 
such  an  institution.  Dr  Donaldson  has  failed  to  enrol  Sibbes  among 
the  celebrities  of  the  school,  an  omission  which,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  will 

•  Contemporary  '  boys.'  The  greatest  of  all,  Master  Willie  Shakespeare,  rising 
into  his  teens,  has  only  very  lately  been  tossing  his  auburn  curls  at  Stratford 
'school;'  and,  still  a  'boy,'  is  now  wooing  his  fair  Anne  Hathaway.  Master 
Joseph  Hall  is  playing  about  Bristow  Park,  Ashby-de  la-Zouch,  under  the  eye  of 
Mistress  Winifred,  of  whom  he  was  to  write  so  tenderly  as  his  more  than  Monica. 
Away  in  the  downs  of  Berks,  diminutive  Willie  Laud  is  playing  at  marbles  under 
the  acacia-walk  of  Eeading.  Master  George  Herbert  is  ruffling  the  humour  of  his 
stately  brother,  afterwards  Lord  Herbert  of  Cherbury,  the  ^doubter,'  by  overturning 
a  glass  of  malmsey  on  his  slashed  hose  and  '  roses  of  his  shoon.'  In  not  distant 
Tarring,  Master  John  Selden  is  already  storing  up  in  the  wizard  cave  of  memory 
those  treasures  of  learning  the  world  is  one  day  to  marvel  at.  Masters  Phineas 
and  Giles  Fletcher  are  truanting  in  the  linden  glades  of  their  father's  vicarage. 
Masters  George  Wither  and  Francis  Quarles  are  agog  (in  strange  contrast  with 
their  grim  scorn  of  such  '  gaudery,'  by-and-bye)  over  their  new  lace-frill.  Master 
William  Browne  is  chasing  the  butterflies  in  Tavistock.  Masters  Ussher  and  Hobbes 
are  perchance  busy  over  their  ABC.  Francis  Beaumont  and  John  Fletcher  are  still 
asunder.  Master  Massinger,  tossing  ha'pence  under  the  minster  of  Salisbury,  no 
vision  yet  of  the  '  Virgin  Martyr,'  and  no  shadow  of  the  '  stranger  s  grave  '  he  is  to  fill. 
Moreover,  as  Master  Sibbes  was  thus  footing  it  between  Thurston  and  Bury,  men 
were  alive  who  had  seen  martyr-faces,  '  pale  i'  the  fire.'  In  the  words  of  Bourne,  of 
a  few  years  earlier,  '  The  English  air  was  thick  with  sighs  and  curses.  Great  men 
[were]  heavy-hearted  at  the  misery  which  had  fallen  upon  the  land  ....  and  he 
[may]  have  listened  to  their  earnest,  mournful  talk.  (Memoirs  of  Philip  Sidney, 
by  H.  R.  Fox  Bourne,  8vo,  1862,  pp.  9,  10.) 


XXxii  MEMOIR  OF  RICHAED  SIBBES,  D.D. 

henceforward  be  supplied,  for  any  school  may  boast  of  a  name  so 
venerable  as  the  author  of  the  '  Bruised  Reed.'  In  the  '  registers 
of  the  school  the  name  of  Sibbes  has  not  been  recorded.  One 
would  have  been  glad  to  know  some  of  his  schoolmates.  I  am 
not  aware  that  history  or  biography  has  named  any  of  them,  none 
at  any  rate  more  distinguished  than  himself  The  statutes  and 
other  documentary  manuscripts  of  the  school  have  been  lost,  and 
nothing  is  known  of  its  celebrated  scholars  till  1610 — long  subse- 
quent to  Sibbes — when  the  list  is  headed  by  that  twin-brother  to 
Pepys,  Sir  Symonds  D'Ewes.  Only  one  Master  is  given  before  1583, 
a  Phihp  Mandevill.  In  1583,  the  office  was  filled  by  a  John  Wright, 
M.A.,  and  in  1596,  by  Edmund  Coote,  M.A.,  who  seems  to  have  pub- 
lished his  '  English  Schoolmaster '  (hardly  to  be  placed  beside  '  The 
Schoolmaster '  of  Roger  Ascham,  though  not  without  merit),  during 
his  short  term  of  office. 

The  earliest  extant  Hst  of  'boys'  is  dated  1656.  It  is  a  fine 
glimpse  of  the  student-boy  old  Catlin  gives,  leisurely  footing  from 
Pakenham  to  Thurston,  and  it  is  to  be  remembered  he  did  the  same 
to  the  more  distant  Bury.  We  can  avouch  that,  in  this  good  year 
Eighteen  hundred  and  sixty-two,  twenty-fourth  of  Queen  Victoria  I., 
few  more  pleasant  rural  roads  can  be  found  than  that  which  now 
winds  from  Thurston  to  Bury.  On  either  side  are  picturesque 
hurdle-fences  tangled  with  purple  cornel,  or  hedge-rows  odorous 
with  hawthorn  spray.  But  it  must  have  been  very  different  in 
Master  Richard's  time.  Macadam  was  still  unborn ;  and  even  a 
century  and  half  later,  Arthur  Young*  has  anything  but  praise  for 
this  turnpike.  '  I  was  forced,'  he  tells  us  in  reference  to  it,  '  to 
move  as  slow  in  it  as  in  any  unmended  lane  in  Wales.  For  ponds 
of  liquid  dirt,  and  a  scattering  of  loose  flints,  just  sufficient  to  lame 
every  horse  that  moves  near  them,  with  the  addition  of  cutting  vile 
grips  across  the  road,  under  the  pretence  of  letting  the  water  off,  but 
without  effect,  altogether  render  at  least  twelve  out  of  these  sixteen 
miles  (between  Bury  and  Sudbury)  as  infamous  a  turnpike  as  ever 
was  beheld.'  Alas  !  for  bookish,  studious  Master  Richard,  if  he 
found  his  school-walk  such  a  Slough-of-Despond. 

Sent  to  Bury '  Free  School'  (visiting  which  I  looked  up  at  the  time- 
stained  bust  of  its  youthful  royal  founder  with  interest  for  Sibbes's 
sake,  who,  perchance,  practised  his  first  Latin  in  spelling  out  the  not 
over-elegant  or  accurate  inscription  beneath),  there  would,  no  doubt, 
be  rapid  advancement.  But  the  '  child'  had  become  a  '  lad,'  and 
again  there  was  threatened  interruption  to  his  school-learning.     I 

*  '  Six  Weeks'  Tour  through  the  Southern  Counties  of  England  and  Wales.'  2d 
ed.     1769.     Pp.  88,  89. 


MEMOIR  OF  EICHAKD  SIBBES,  D.D.  XXXIU 

find  an  objurgation  rising  to  my  lips  against  this  so  'unwilling 
father ;  but  it  is  silenced  by  the  recollection  of  the  vicar's  testi- 
mony :  '  He  was  a  skilful  and  painful  workman,  and  a  good,  sound- 
hearted  Christian.'  Master  Catlin,  I  suspect  thy  sweet-nurtured 
charity  was  blind  to  Master  Paul  Sibs's  penuriousness !  It  may 
have  been,  again  let  us  say,  pressure  of  circumstances,  many  mouths 
to  be  fed,  multiplied  '  work'  demanding  another  pair  of  hands. 
Still  it  is  not  altogether  what  we  should  like,  to  find  Master 
Richard  again  hindered.  *  His  father,'  continues  our  vicar,  *  at 
length  grew  weary  of  his  expenses  for  books  and  learning, 
took  him  from  school,  bought  him  an  axe  and  some  other  tools, 
and  set  him  to  his  own  trade,  to  the  great  discontent  of  the  youth, 
wnose  genius  wholly  carried  him  another  way.'  So  Master  Paul  Sibs 
proposed,  but  Another  disposed.  The  lad  was  destined  to  work  for 
his  generation — and  many  generations — with  other  tools  than  these. 


CHAPTER  III 

STUDENT  AND  PREACHER  AT  CAMBRIDGE. 

Leaves  Bury  St  Edmunds  for  '  St  John's  College,'  Cambridge — Greaves — Knewstub 
— Rushbrook — Enters  as  '  sub-sizar  ' — Jeremy  Taylor  'pauper  scholaris  ' — Pro- 
gress—Degrees— B.  A.  — '  Fellow  '  —  M.  A. — '  Taxer  '  —  B.  D.— Paul  Bayne  — 
'  Conversion ' — A  'Preacher ' — Lectureship  of '  Trinity,'  Cambridge — Memorial — 
'  Hobson  ' — Accepts— Results— Samuel  Clarke — Thomas  Cawton — John  Cotton 
— '  Word  in  season  '  to  Thomas  Goodwin — Prevalent  '  preaching.' 

Once  more  vigilant  friends  stepped  in.  They  saw  the  'youth' 
set  utterly  against  the  grain,  at  the  wheel- wright's  bench.  'Where- 
upon,' approvingl}'-,  with  the  faintest  touch  of  rebuke,  chronicles 
good  Zachary  Catlin  :  '  Mr  Greaves,  then  minister  of  Thurston,  and 
Mr  Rushbrook,  an  attorney  there,  knowing  the  disposition  and  fit- 
ness of  the  lad,  sent  him,  without  his  father's  consent,  to  some  of 
the  Fellows  of  St  John's  College  of  their  acquaintance,  with  their 
letters  of  recommendation ;  where,  upon  examination,  he  was  so 
well  approved  of,  that  he  was  presently  entertained  as  a  sub-sizar, 
shortly  after  chosen  scholar  of  the  house,  and  at  length  came  to  be 
Fellow  of  the  CoUege,  and  one  of  the  taskers  of  the  university  ;  his 
father  being  hardly  brought  to  allow  him  twenty  nobles  a  year  to- 
wards his  maintenance  in  Cambridge,  to  which  some  good  friends 
in  the  country,  Mr  Greaves,  Mr  Knewstub,  and  some  others,  made 
some  addition,  for  a  time,  as  need  required.'  I  am  sure  all  my 
readers  will  wish  that  we  knew  more  of  those  '  good  friends.'    All 


XXXIV  MEMOIR  OF  EICHAED  SIB3ES,  D.D. 

honour  to  the  memory  of  '  Mr  Greaves  and  Mr  Rushbrook.'  Of 
'  Mr  Knewstub,'  the  scholarly,  the  pious,  the  brave-hearted,  no  ad- 
mirer of  the  Puritans  needs  lo  be  informed.  His  is  truly  a  historic 
clarum  et  venerabile  nomen.  His  letter  of  recommendation  to  St 
John's  College  would  have  the  greater  weight,  in  that  he  was  one 
of  its  greatest  lights,  and,  subsequently,  its  benefactor.  One  is 
pleased,  nevertheless,  to  learn  that  it  was  '  upon  examination,'  not 
mere  '  recommendation,'  the  youth  was  received.  He  was  then  in 
his  eighteenth  year.  Entered  as  a  sub-sizar,  which  is  even  beneath 
a  sizar,  young  Sibbes  must  have  been  placed  at  a  disadvantage. 
Jeremy  Taylor,  however,  was  entered  as  'pauper  scholaris,'  lower 
still.  That  has  transfigured,  if  not  ennobled,  the  lowly  '  sizar.'  Cer- 
tainly the  more  honour  is  due  to  those  who,  starting  with  the 
meanest,  have  won  for  themselves  the  highest  places.  How  many 
who  entered  among  the  highest  are  forgotten,  while  the  lapse  of 
time  only  brightens  the  lustre  of  our  '  sub-sizar'  and  the  '  pauper 
scholaris.' 

The  career  of  Sibbes  at  the  university  was  singularly  successful, 
and  indicates  in  the  son  of  the  wheel- wright  of  Tostock  and  Thurston, 
no  common  energy  and  devotion  to  study.  It  is  probable  that  his 
'school-learning'  at  Pakenham  and  Bury  St  Edmunds,  alike,  was 
frequently  interrupted  and  hindered.  Nevertheless,  he  seems  to 
have  at  once  placed  himself  abreast  of  the  most  favoured  students. 
The  records  and  registers  of  St  John's  College,  shew  that  he  passed 
B.A.  in  1598-9  ;  was  admitted  '  Fellow'  3d  April  1601,  commenced 
M.A.  in  1602,  taxer  (the  'tasker'  of  Catlin)  in  1608,  was  elected 
'College  Preacher'  feast  of  1st  March  1609,  and  graduated  B.D.  in 
1610. 

We  must  return  upon  these  dates.  When  Sibbes,  in  1595,  pro- 
ceeded to  Cambridge,  '  without  the  consent  of  his  father,'  but  with 
kind  words  of  cheer  and  something  more  from  Mr  Greaves,  Mr  Knew- 
stub, and  Mr  Rushbrook,  it  does  not  appear  that  he  had  any  specific 
intentions  in  regard  to  the  future.  An  academic  life  was  evidently 
his  ambition  ;  but  to  what  profession,  whether  divinity,  law,  or 
medicine,  he  was  ultimately  to  devote  himself,  was  probably  left 
undetermined.  An  event,  or  more  accurately,  the  one  great  event 
and  '  change'  in  every  man — his  conversion  (J  like  and  therefore  use 
the  good  old  puritan,  because  Biblical,  word),  in  all  likelihood  led  him 
to  decide  to  serve  God  in  the  ministry  of  the  gospel  of  his  Son.  Paul 
Bayne,  sometimes  Baine  and  Baines,  one  of  the  most  remarkable  of 
the  earlier  '  Doctrinal  Puritans'  (that  name  of  stigma  imposed  by 
Laud),  whose  '  Letters,'  second  only  to  those  of  Samuel  Rutherford, 
and  other  minor  books,  were  long  the  chosen  fireside  reading  of  every 


i 


I 


MEMOIR  OF  RICHARD  SJaBES,  D.D.  XXXV 

puritan  household,  and  whose  '  Exposition  of  Ephesians'  is  worthy 
to  take  its  place  beside  Rogers  and  Byfield  on  Peter,  Jenkyn  on 
Jude,  Petter  on  Mark,  Elton  on  Colossians  and  Romans,  Newton 
on  John,  and  their  kindred  foUos,  that  lie  now-a-days  like  so  many 
unworked  mines  of  gold — had  succeeded  Perkins  as  preacher  at 
St  Andrew's,  Cambridge,  '  and  it  pleased  God,'  says  Clarke,  '  to  make 
him  an  instrument  of  the  conversion  of  that  holy  and  eminent 
servant  of  Christ,  Dr  Sibbes.'  Sibbes  himself  is  reverently  reticent 
on  the  momentous  matter,  even  in  his  preface  to  Bayne's  '  Exposi- 
tion of  the  first  chapter  of  Ephesians'  (published  separately  in  1618), 
making  no  allusion  to  it ;  but  it  probably  took  place  somewhere 
about  1602-3.*  In  1602,  having  passed  M.A.,  he  shortly  there- 
after became  a  'preacher.'  By  1608  'he  was  a  preacher  of  good 
note.'  Where  he  did  preach  we  are  not  informed.  In  his  address 
to  the  reader  prefixed  to  the  'Soul's  Conflict,'  he  states  that  the 
'  Sermons'  which  compose  it  had  been  preached  first  of  all  '  about 
twelve  years'  before  'in  the  city,'  i.e.,  London,  and  afterwards 
at '  Gray's  Inn.'  I  have  utterly  failed  to  come  upon  any  memorial 
of  this  '  city'  ministry  ;  but  it  is  probable  that  it  was  commenced 
between  1602  and  1607.  Elected  'College  Preacher'  in  1609,  he 
must  have  been  then  well  known  and  distinguished. 

In  1610,  when  he  had  graduated  B.D.,  another  very  important 
event  happened.  In  that  year  a  'Memorial'  was  addressed  to  him, 
which,  in  so  far  as  I  can  learn,  appears  to  have  been  the  origin  of 
the  subsequently  celebrated  '  Trinity  Lectureship,'  held  since  by 
some  of  the  greatest  names  of  the  church.     The  memorial  gives  us 

*' Conversion  ....  reticent.'  This  is  quite  in  accord  with  Sibbes's  declared  senti- 
ments. I  would  refer  the  reader  to  '  The  Description  of  Christ,'  pp.  30,  31.  There  he 
will  find  not  more  sound  than  admirably  expressed  counsels  and  warnings  as  to  the 
'  vainglory'  of  publishing  abroad  things  too  solemn  to  be  so  dealt  with.  I  assume 
the  responsibility  of  alBrming,  that  at  no  period  have  those  warnings  been  more 
demanded  than  the  present.  Every  one  who  '  loves  the  Lord,'  who  prays  and  longa 
for  the  coming  of  '  the  kingdom,'  who  mourns  the  wordliness  and  coldness  of  all  sec- 
tions of  Christ's  divided  church,  must  rejoice  in  the  past  two  years'  awakening  and 
'  revival.'  I  would  gladly  recognise  the  work  of  the  Spirit  of  God  in  much  that  has 
taken  place.  I  verily  believe  very  many  have  been  'born  again,'  and  more  who  were 
half  asleep  have  been  stirred  and  quickened.  At  the  same  time,  it  were  to  be  un- 
faithful and  untruthful  to  blink  the '  evil'  that  has  mingled  with  the  '  good.'  It 
becomes  every  reverent  soul  to  protest  against  those  premature  declarations  of  '  con- 
versions,' and  publication  of  'experiences'  that  have  got  so  common.  It  is  perilous 
to  forget  the  Master's  words,  Luke  xvii.  20.  Paul  was  fourteen  years  a  '  servant'  of 
Christ  before  he  made  known  his  ineffable  rapture  and  vision.  Modern  '  converts,' 
do  not  allow  as  many  hours  to  expire  ere  their  whole  story  is  blazoned  in  the  public 
prints.  Surely  a  thing  so  awful  and  so  sacred,  unless  in  very  exceptional  instances, 
is  for  the  ear  of  God  alone.  The  Tract  Societies  would  act  wisely  if  they  circulated 
by  thousands  as  a  '  Tract  for  the  Times,'  Sibbes's  priceless  words  of  '  Vainglory.' 

VOL.  I.  0 


rxXVl  MEMOIR  OP  KICHAKD  SIBBES,  D.D. 

insight  into  the  popularity  of  Sibbes  as  a  preacher.*     The  ortho- 
graphy and  wording  of  the  original  are  retained  : — 

'  A  Coppye  of  the  general  request  of  the  inhabitants  of  o'  p'ishe  deliv'ed 
to  Mr  Sibs,  publique  p'acher  of  the  house  of  Cambridge. 

'  We  whose  names  ar  heerunderwritten,  the  Churchewardens  and  P'ishion- 

ers  of  Trinity  p'ishe  in  Cambridge,  with  the  ful  and  fre  consent  of  Mr  Jhon 

Wildbore  o'  minister,  duely  considering  the  extream  straytnes  &  div'se 

other   discomodities   concerning  the   accustomed  place   of  y'  exercise  & 

desheing  as  much  as  in  vs  lyeth  y*  more  publique  benefit  of  yo'  ministery, 

doe  eamestlye  entreat  you  wold  be  pleesed  to  accept  of  o'  p'ishe  Churche, 

which  al  of  vs  doe  willinglye  offer  you  for  &  concerning  the  exercising  of 

yo,  ministery  &  awditorye  at  the  awntient  and  usual  daye  &  houre.     In 

witnes  hereof  wee  have  heervnto  set  to  o^  hands  this  22th  (sic)  of  Noveber 

1610.  *  John  Wilboee,        Minister. 

*  Edwaed  Almond,  1  --(i.      ,         ^ 
,m  -D  [  Churchewardens. 

'  Thomas  Bankes,    j 

(Signed  also  by  29  Parishioners.) 

The  churchwardens  of  the  parish  having  kindly  permitted  access 
to  their  '  Records,'  I  find  amongst  them  a  list  of  the  names  of  the  sub- 
scribers to  the  lectureship  in  the  several  parishes  of  the  town,  with 
the  amount  of  each  person's  subscription,  which  runs  generally 
13s.  4d.,  10s.,  and  6s.  8d.  per  annum.  Three  gave  £1  per  annum 
each,  of  whom  one  was  Mr  Hobson,  the  carrier,  immortalised  by 
Milton,  and  later  by  Steele  in  the  'Spectator,'  and  to  this  day 
a  '  household  word'  in  Cambridge,  in  kindly  eccentric  associa- 
tion with  the  proverb,  '  Hobson's  choice,  that  or  none,'  which  no 
one  book-read  will  need  explained.  One  thing  is  noticeable,  that 
a  goodly  number  of  the  signatures  to  the  memorial  are  with 
marks  -|-.  This  is  of  the  last  interest  and  not  a  little  touching. 
The  '  common  people'  heard  Sibbes,  like  his  Master,  *  gladly,'  and 
the  '  straytnes  of  the  place'  hindered  others.  This  is  a  sign  of 
change  for  the  better  in  Cambridge  very  worthy  of  observation. 
The  old  longing  after  that  full  preaching  of  the  gospel  which  had 
characterised  the  period  of  Perkins's  seraphic  yet  pungent  ministry, 
was  revived.  Sibbes  responded  to  the  memorial,  and  immediately 
it  was  felt  that  '  Trinity'  had  a  man  of  mark  as  its  '  Lecturer,'  the 
coequal  of  Bayne  of  St  Andrew's,  How  those  saintly  servants 
of  the  same  Lord  would  rejoice  to  be  fellow-helpers  of  each  other, 
the  younger  'serving'  with  the  elder,  as  a  son  with  a  father.  The 
lectureship  of  '  Trinity'  was  a  complete  success.  Besides  the 
townsmen,  many  scholars  resorted  to  him,  whereby  he  became,  in 
the  words  of  Clarke,  a  '  worthy  instrument  of  begetting  many  sons 

*  '  Trinity  Lectureship,'    The  '  Memorial'  is  given  by  Mr  Cooper  in  his  Annals  of 
Cambridge,  iii.  168. 


MEMOIR  OF  RICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D.  XXXVU 

and  daughters  unto  God,  besides  tlie  edifying  and  building  up  of 
others.'* 

We  have  incidental  confirmations  of  the  weighty  testimony  of  the 
'  Pastor  of  St  Bennet  Fink,  London.'  More  generally,  in  that 
curious  Uttle  rarity  of  Puritan  biography,  '  The  Life  and  Death  of 
that  Holy  and  Reverend  man  of  God,  Mr  Thomas  Cawton'f  (1662), 
we  read  '  He  conscientiously  and  constantly  laboured  to  counter- 
work those  factors  of  hell,  and  drove  a  trade  for  God  in  bestirring 
himself  to  insinuate  into  any  lad  that  was  ingenious,  and  was 
very  successful  therein,  to  the  astonishment  and  confusion  of  his 
opposers.  Many  had  great  cause  to  bless  God  for  him,  and  their 
first  acquaintance  with  him,  for  his  bringing  them  to  Dr  Preston's 
and  Dr  Sibbes,  his  Lectures  in  those  times.'  More  specially.  Cot- 
ton Mather,  the  Thomas  Fuller  of  New  England,  tells  us  of  one 
memorable  conversion  through  his  instrumentality — John  Cotton, 
who  was  in  turn  the  '  leader  to  Christ '  of  a  greater  than  himself, 
Dr  Preston,  and  whom  Oliver  Cromwell  himself  addressed  as  '  my 
esteemed  friend.' J 

It  were  hke  to  rubbing  off  with  coarse  fingers  the  powder  from  a 
moth's  wing,  in  any  wise  to  change  the  loving  and  grave  narrative 
It  is  as  follows  : — '  Hitherto  we  have  seen  the  life  of  Mr  Cotton 
while  he  was  not  yet  ahve  !  Though  the  restraining  and  prevent- 
ing grace  of  God  had  kept  him  from  such  outbreakings  of  sin  as 
defile  the  lives  of  most  in  the  world,  yet  like  the  old  man  who  for 
such  a  cause  ordered  this  epitaph  to  be  written  on  his  grave,  "Here 
lies  an  old  man  who  hved  but  seven  years,"  he  reckoned  himself  to 
have  been  but  a  dead  man  as  being  "  alienated  from  the  Ufe  of  God," 
until  he  had  experienced  that  regeneration  in  his  own  soul,  which  was 
thus  accompHshed.  The  Holy  Spirit  of  God  had  been  at  work  upon 
his  young  heart,  by  the  ministering  of  that  reverend  and  renowned 
preacher  of  righteousness,  Mr  Perkins ;  but  he  resisted  and  smothered 
those  convictions  through  a  vain  persuasion,  that  if  he  became  a 
godly  man  'twould  spoil  him  for  being  a  learned  one.  Yea,  such 
was  the  secret  enmity  and  prejudice  of  an  unregenerate  soul  against 
real  holiness,  and  such  the  torment  which  our  Lord's  witnesses  give 

*  Clarke,  Lives  of  Thirty-two  English  Divines,  3d  edition,  1677,  folio,  p.  143. 

t  '  Cawton,'  p.  11. 

X  Cotton  and  Cromwell.  The  letter  of  the  great  Protector,  alluded  to,  a  very 
striking  one,  will  be  found  in  Brook's  Lives  of  the  Puritans,  iii.  158-9.  It  is  also 
given  with  characteristic  annotation  in  Carlyle's  '  Cromwell,'  iii.  221-225  (3d  ed. 
1850).  When,  may  I  ask  in  a  foot-note,  will  America  give  us  worthy  editions  of 
the  still  inedited  and  uncollected  '  Works'  of  John  Cotton,  Thomas  Hooker,  Daven- 
port, and  others  of  their  kindred?  Surely  this  were  better  than  much  that  has  been 
reprinted  over  the  Atlantic. 


XXXVIU  MEMOIR  OF  KICHAED  SIBBES,  D.D. 

to  the  consciences  of  tlie  earthly-minded,  that  when  he  heard  the 
bell  toll  for  the  funeral  of  Mr  Perkins,  his  mind  secretly  rejoiced 
in  his  deliverance  from  that  powerful  ministry  by  which  his  conscience 
had  been  so  oft  beleaguered ;  the  remembrance  of  which  things  after- 
wards did  break  his  heart  exceedingly !  But  he  was  at  length  more 
effectually  awakened  by  a  sermon  of  JDr  Sibs,  wherein  was  dis- 
coursed the  misery  of  those  who  had  only  a  negative  righteousness, 
or  a  civil,  sober,  honest  blamelessness  before  men.  Mr  Cotton  became 
now  very  sensible  of  his  own  miserable  condition  before  God  ;  and 
the  errors  of  those  convictions  did  stick  so  fast  upon  him,  that  after 
no  less  than  three  years  disconsolate  apprehensions  under  them, 
the  grace  of  God  made  him  a  thoroughly  renewed  Christian,  and 
filled  him  with  a  sacred  joy  which  accompanied  him  into  the  ful- 
ness of  joy  for  ever.  For  this  cause,  as  persons  truly  converted 
unto  God  have  a  mighty  and  lasting  affection  for  the  instruments 
of  their  conversion,  thus  Mr  Cotton's  veneration  for  Dr  Sibs  was 
after  this  very  particular  and  perpetual,  and  it  caused  him  to  have 
the  picture  of  that  great  man  in  that  part  of  his  house  where  he 
might  oftenest  look  upon  it.'* 

Various  similar  raemorabilia  might  be  here  adduced  from  the 
Puritan  'Biographies'  and 'Histories.'  One  additional  'word  in 
season,'  spoken  to  Dr  Thomas  Goodwin,  may  sufiice.  In  his  earlier 
days  this  celebrated  divine  leant  to  Arminianism  rather  than  to 
Calvinism,  and  it  was  through  Sibbes  that  his  views  were  cleared, 
to  his  life-long  satisfaction,  on  the  point  of  Jesus  Christ  being  the 
Head  and  Representative  of  his  people.  It  is  also  recorded  that,  in 
familiar  discourse  with  Goodwin,  Sibbes  said,  'Young  man,  if  you  ever 
would  do  good,  you  must  preach  the  gospel,  and  the  free  grace  of 
God  in  Christ  Jesus.'f  The  counsel  was  as  a  '  nail  in  a  sure  place,' 
and  no  reader  of  Goodwin  needs  to  be  told  how  fully  and  magnifi- 
cently he  sets  forth  the  '  grace'  of  God  in  Christ. 

Well  was  it  that  such  men  as  Paul  Bayne  and  Richard  Sibbes 
were  preachers  in  such  a  place  and  at  such  a  time.  From  contem- 
porary accounts  it  is  apparent,  that  notwithstanding  the  profound 
impression  'on  the  town'  by  Perkins,  and  notwithstanding  that 
there  were  a  few  who,  Mary-like,  '  kept  all  the  things'  they  had 
heard  from  him,  '  and  pondered  them  in  their  hearts,'  Cambridge 
was  sunken  dowm,  as  a  whole,  to  all  its  former  indifferentism  and  for- 
mality.    The  preaching  that  was  fashionable  among  the  '  wits '  of 

*  Cotton.  Magnalia  Cliristi  Americana :  or  the  Ecclesiastical  History  of  New 
England,  book  iii.,  c.  i.,  §  5,  p,  15.     Folio,  1702. 

t  Robert  Trail,  A.M.,  Justification  by  Faith,  "Works,  vol.  i.  p.  261  (edition  4  vols. 
8vo,  1810). 


MEMOIR  OF  KICHAED  SIBBES,  D.D.  XXXIX 

the  university  was  a  very  different  thing  from  the  stem  reproofs, 
bold  invectives,  burning  remonstrances,  prophet-like  appeals  of 
William  Perkins.  What  was  now  cultivated  and  extolled  was  a 
frivolous,  florid  eloquence,  that  boasted  itself  on  its  deftly-turned 
tropes,  its  high-flown  paraphrases  of  the  classics,  especially  Seneca 
and  Cicero,  and  the  Fathers,  the  multiplied  quotations  of  the  '  ser- 
mons' published  shewing  like  purple  patches  on  a  thread-bare  robe. 
There  was  trick  of  manner,  melHfluous  cadence,  simpering  refine- 
ment, nothing  more.  The  Senhouses  et  hoc  genus  omne  sprinkled 
eau-de-cologne  over  their  hearers  (if  they  durst  it  had  been  '  holy 
water'),  while  parched  lips  were  athirst  for  the  '  living  water' — 
tickled  the  ear  when  the  heavily-laden  soul  sought  pardon,  the 
weary  rest,  the  bruised  balm.  The  cross  lifted  up  on  Calvary  be- 
neath the  pallid  heavens — the  cross  as  proclaimed  by  Paul — was 
*  vulgar,'  and  to  be  kept  out  of  sight.  The  awful  blood  must  first 
be  wiped  off — the  coarse  nails  withdrawn.  Whoso  gainsays,  let 
him  turn  to  their  extant  '  Sermons.'  But  amid  the  faithless  some 
faithful  were  found.  There  were  some  not  ashamed  of  the  gospel,' 
some  who  could  stand  and  withstand  'the  loud  laugh.'  The  'towns- 
people' would  have  that  which  the  '  collegians'  (so  they  called  them) 
rejected.  In  such  circumstances  we  may  conceive  that  the  ministry 
of  Sibbes  could  scarcely  fail  to  be  a  ministry  of  power.  *  The  Day' 
alone  will  fuUy  reveal  its  fruits. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

'  preacher'  at  gray's  inn,  LONDON. 

'DepriTed'  of  Lectureship  and  'Outed'  from  Fellowsnip — Sir  Henry  Telverton — 
'  Preacher'  at  Gray's  Inn — Correction  of  date — The  '  Chapel' — The  '  Inn' — Segar 
MS.— The  Auditory— Lord  Bacon. 

From  1610  to  1615,  Sibbes  held  his  lectureship  and  other 
honours  without  molestation.  But  in  the  latter  year  he  was  de- 
prived ('  outed,'  says  Clarke)  both  of  his  fellowship  and  lecture. 
Even  thus  early  Laud  was  at  work  against  all  Puritanism  and 
'preaching  ;'  and  this  was  the  manner  of  his  working.  However, 
as  in  many  other  instances,  while  there  was  unquestionable  hard- 
ship and  hurt  done  by  the  double  deprivation,  it  '  feU  out  for  the 
furtherance  of  the  gospel.'  Sir  Henry  Yelverton,  that  '  constant 
patron  to  godly  ministers,' stepped  in  and  secured  the  'preacher- 
ship  '  of  '  Gray's  Inn/  London,  for  him.     All  preceding  authorities 


xl  MKMOIR  OF  EICHAED  SIBBES,  D.D. 

give  1618 — ^the  'Synod  of  Dort'  year — or  'about  1618/  as  the  date 
of  this  well-timed  appointment.  This  is  incorrect,  I  found  the  fol- 
lowing entry  in  the  '  Order-Books  : '  * 

'  Quinto  die,  Feb,  a,d,  1616. 

*  At  this  penton  [pension]  Mr  Richd,  Sibbs  is  chosen  preacher  of  Graies 
Inne ;  and  it  is  ordered  that  he  shal  be  contiauaUy  resident,  and  shall  not 
take  any  other  benefice  or  hvinge,'  f 

This  appointment  introduced  him  at  a  bound  to  the  first  society 
of  the  metropolis. 

Among  the  treasures  of  the  British  Museum  is  a  noble  folio, 
drawn  up  from  the  books  of  'Gray's  Inn,'  by  Segar,  one  of  the 
society's  former  '  butlers.'  J  In  it,  with  superb  blazonry  of  shield 
and  scutcheon,  and  all  the  'pomp  of  heraldry,'  are  registered 
the  names  of  those  who  were  resident  'readers,  benchers,  an- 
cients, barristers,  students,'  from  the  earliest  date.  If  one  had 
the  Greek  of  Homer,  or  the  'large  utterance'  of  Milton,  or  even 
the  rhetoric  of  Macaulay,  it  were  possible  to  revivify  the  auditory 
of  the  'chapel.'  A  more  illustrious  can  scarcely  be  imagined. 
The  flower  of  the  old  nobility,  the  greatest  names  of  the  state  and 
of  history,  men  who  mark  epochs,  were  embraced  in  it.  I  have 
looked  through  the  roll  from  1616  to  1635 — the  period  of  Sibbes's 
office — and  almost  at  random  I  note  Abbots  and  Ashleys,  Audleys 
and  Amhersts,  Bacons  and  Barnardistons,  Boyles  and  Brookes, 
Bradshaws  and  Barrows,  Cromwells  and  Cholmleys,  CornwalKses 

*  'Order  Books.'  These  are  deposited  at  'Gray's  Inn,'  where  I  had  the  privilege 
of  an  unrestricted  examination  of  them.  The  volume  from  which  I  make  all  my 
excerpts,  is  a  huge  folio,  marked  '  Gray's  Inn.  Book  of  Orders.  II.  of  Eliz.  to 
XVIII.  of  Chs,  II.' 

t  '  Chapel '  of  '  Gray's  Inn.'  I  cull  from  the  above  authority  a  record  of  the 
foundation  of  the  '  preachership '  to  which  Sibbes  was  elected : — 

Chapell. 

'  It  appeareth  as  well  by  a  deed  of  the  Cort  of  Augmentacons,  bearinge  date  the 
10th  of  November,  in  ye  33th  (sic)  yeare  of  ye  reigne  of  King  Henry  8.  As  also 
by  an  Exempliiicacon  thereof,  made  ye  12th  November  in  ye  said  yeare.  As  also 
by  another  Exempliiicacon  thereof,  granted  by  ye  late  Queen  Elizab.,  dated  at 
Westminster  the  12th  of  ffebruary,  in  the  fourth  yeare  of  her  reigne.  That  ye 
treasurer  of  ye  Cort  of  Augmentacons,  of  ye  said  revenue  of  ye  crowne,  for  the  time 
beinge,  should  yearely  pay  out  of  ye  said  treasurres  to  ye  treasurer  of  ye  house  of 
Graye's  Inn,  Nigh  Holborne,  in  ye  county  of  Midd.  for  ye  time  being,  ye  sume  of 
vl  xiij  iiij**  (£6,  18s.  4d.),  in  recompense  of  a  yearly  stipend  of  vij  xiij  iiij  (£7, 
13s.  4d.),  wch.  was  duely  proved  before  ye  said  Cort  of  Augmentacons  to  be  issuinge 
out  of  ye  possessions  of  ye  late  monasterie  of  St  Bartholomew  in  Smithfield,  besides 
London  ;  and  of  right  payable,  time  out  of  mind,  by  ye  prior  and  convent  of  the  said 
monastrie  and  their  p'decessors,  for  ye  findinge  of  a  chaplaine  to  celebrate  divine 
service  in  ye  chapell  of  Graye's  Inn  aforesaid,  for  ye  students,  gent.,  and  fellowea 
of  ye  said  house,'  &c.  &c.  &c. 

t  '  Segar.'    Harleian  MSS  ,  1912.    94,  c,  25.     Plut.  xlvii.     E  folio. 


MEMOIR  OF  EICHAKD  SIBBES,  D.D.  xli 

and  Chetwinds,  Drakes  and  Egertons,  Fairfaxes  and  Fitzgeralds, 
Nevills  and  Pelhams,  Riches  and  Sidneys,  Staffords  and  Stanleys, 
Standishes  and  Talbots,  Wallers,  and  Vaughans,  and  Veres.* 
Truly  the  wheel-wright's  son  has  a  worthy  audience  ;  ay,  and  what 
is  better,  he  is  worthy  of  the  audience. 

At  the  date  of  Sibbes's  appointment,  the  greatest  of  all  the  names 
enumerated,  Francis  Bacon,  had  '  chambers '  in  Gray's  Inn ;  and, 
after  his  fall,  was  a  permanent  resident.'!'  When  it  was  dark  with 
him,  he  had  Sibbes  for  his  'preacher.'  Am  I  wrong  in  thinking 
that  the  touching  appeal  of  the  stricken  Lord  Chancellor  to  his 
peers,  recorded  by  every  biographer,  '  I  am  a  bruised  reed,'  may 
have  been  a  reminiscence  of  the  golden-syllabled  words  which  he 
had  heard  from  the  'preacher'  at  Gray's  Inn  ? 

I  know  not  that  the  author  of  the  Bruised  Reed  is  once  named 

*  '  Gray's  Inn.'  I  may  give  in  a  foot-note,  from  Segar's  folio,  tlie  earlier  history 
of  the  Society  with  which  the  name  of  Sibbes  is  so  indissolubly  associated.  Having 
recited  certain  ancient  mediaeval-Latin  records,  which  are  also  supplemented  by 
prior  relations  to  the  Dean  and  Chapter  of  St  Paul's,  the  chronicler  proceeds : — 

'  By  all  w"*"  severall  offices,  it  appeares  that  the  said  manor  of  Portepole,  now 
Gray's  Inne,  or  within  ye  which  apart  of  Graye's  Inne  is  now  situate,  was  anciently 
the  Inheritance  of  the  Grayes.  But  I  do  not  find  in  any  of  ye  said  former,  &c. 
.  .  .  that  any  Gray,  lord  or  owner  of  ye  said  manor  or  messuage,  did  at  any  time 
reside  there.  Reginald  de  Gray,  in  ye  44th  year  of  ye  reign  of  Kinge  Edw.  3,  for 
ye  yearly  rent  of  Q  (?),  as  is  mentioned  in  ye  office,  then  found  after  his  decease. 
And  in  ye  w"*"  office  (the  same  beinge  in  form'  inquisitions  named  mesuagium), 
is  thereby  found  to  be  hospitium  and  in  lease  whereby  it's  manifested  yt.  ye  house 
then  and  yet  knowne  by  the  name  of  Gray's  Inn,  was  demised  to  some  p'sons  of 
speciall  regard  and  rank,  and  not  to  meane  ones,  or  p'sons  of  meane  or  privat  behav' , 
but  to  such  as  were  united  into  a  Society  p'fessinge  ye  lawes,  that  in  those  dayes 
begunn  to  congregat  and  setle  themselves  within  ye  Court  (?)  as  an  associated 
company  entertayning  hospitalitie  together.  And  then  this  house  grew  to  be  oif  an 
higher  title  in  denominacon  and  became  to  be  totally  termed  by  ye  Intitulacon  of 
Hospitium  in  Portopole.  And  it  also  appeareth  that  ye  said  Reginald  de  Gray 
devised  ye  said  messuage  as  aforesaid  in  ye  reigne  of  King  Edw.  3,  in  his  life- 
time, and  at  his  death  was  held  for  hospitium  and  by  the  jury  before  whom  ye  said 
inquisition  was  taken  in  ye  said  44th  yeare  of  Edw.  3d  (a°  1370),  was  found  to  bea 
hospitium,  and  not  mesuaginm.  Imediatly  whereupon  ye  said  hospitium  is  called 
Grey's  Inne,  or  Hospitium  Graiorum,  for  that  that  estate  had  been  soe  long  and  by 
soe  many  severall  descents  in  yt  name,'  &c.  &c.  &c. 

This  quaint  and  curious  narrative,  which  I  believe  is  now  for  the  first  time  pub- 
lished, explains  the  origin  of  the  name  '  Gray's  Inn.'  Those  interested  wiU  find 
much  additional  information  in  Segar, — all  the  more  valuable  that  many  of  the 
originals  were  destroyed  by  a  fire  at  Gray's  Inn.  These  missing  portions  have  been 
transcribed,  but  not  very  accurately,  for  the  Hon.  Society. 

t  '  Bacon  and  Gray's  Inn.'  See  an  interesting  chapter  of  an  unusually  interest- 
ing, but  not  very  accurate,  book,  Meteyard's  '  Hallowed  Spots  of  Ancient  London ' 
(4to,  1862),  entitled  '  York  House,  Strand,  and  Gray's  Inn,'  pp.  80-99.  An  engrav- 
ing of  '  Gray's  Inn  '  is  given  on  page  90.  I  need  hardly  say  that  all  the  old  build- 
ings, and  the  'faire  gardenne,'  with  its  Bacon-planted  elms,  have  long  disappeared. 


Xlii  MEMOIR  OF  EICHAED  SIBBES,  D.D. 

in  all  Bacon's  writings,  but  then  neither  is  Shakespeare.  StiU,  I 
cannot  help  rejoicing  that,  in  his  closing  years  of  humiliation  and 
penitence,  while  he  was  building  up  the  Cyclopean  masonry  of  his 
*  Novum  Organum,'  he  had  Richard  Sibbes  to  lift  his  thoughts 
higher.  I  delight  to  picture  to  myself  the  mighty  thinker  and 
the  heavenly  preacher  walking  in  the  'faire  gardenne'  of  the 
Inn,  holding  high  and  sanctified  discourse.*  I  fancy  I  can  trace 
the  influence  of  Sibbes  on  Bacon,  and  of  Bacon  on  Sibbes.  There 
are  in  Sibbes  many  aphoristic  sayings,  pregnant  seeds  of  thought, 
felicitous  '  similies '  (so  marked  on  the  early  margins),  that  bear  the 
very  mintage  of  the  '  Essays  ;'  and  again  there  is  in  them  an  insight 
into  Scripture,  a  working  in  of  its  cloth-of-gold  with  his  own  medi- 
tations, an  apposite  quotation  of  its  facts  and  words,  that  surely 
came  of  the  sermons  and  private  talk  under  the  elms  with  Sibbes. 
It  is  something  to  know  that  two  such  men  knew  each  other. 

The  '  Bruised  Reed '  and  '  Soul's  Conflict,'  and  indeed  nearly  all 
his  works,  present  specimens  of  the  kind  of  preaching  to  which  the 
auditory  of  'Gray's  Inn'  listened  from  Sunday  to  Sunday.  One  is 
gladdened  to  think  that  such  men  heard  such  preaching,  so  wise, 
so  grave,  so  fervid,  so  Christful.  There  grew  out  of  it  life-long 
friendships. 


CHAPTER  V. 

PROVOSTSHIP  OF  TRINITY  COLLEGE,  DUBLIN. 

Archbishop  TJssher — Dr  John  Preston — Letter  of  Sibbes — Sir  William  Temple — 
Letters  of  Ussher  to  Archbishop  Abbot  and  the  Hon.  Society  of  Gray's  Inn— 
Sibbes  to  Ussher — Archbishop  Abbot'to  Ussher — Declines  the  Provostship. 

"nstalled  as  'preacher'  at  Gray's  Inn,  Sibbes  seems  to  have 
acted  up  to  the  letter  of  his  appointment ;  which,  it  will  be  re- 
membered, required  that  he  was  '  to  be  continually  resident,'  and 
'  to  take  no  other  benefice  or  living.'  This  he  continued  appa- 
rently to  do,  with  the  exception  of  occasional  '  sermons '  in  the 
'city 'or  in  Cambridge,  until  1626.  In  that  year  new  honours 
came  to  him.  Archbishop  Ussher  sought  to  have  him  made  pro- 
vost of  Trinity  College,  Dublin ;  and  he  was  elected,  on  the  death 
of  Dr  John  Hills, '  Master'  of  St  Katherine  Hall  (now  College),  Cam- 
bridge.    A  very  interesting  correspondence  remains  in  relation  to 

*  One  asks  wistfully  if  they  took  any  note  of  one  William  Shakespeare,  who, 
within  three  months  of  the  appointment  to  the  '  preachership'  at  '  Gray's  Inn,'  waa 
laid  beside  his  little  Hamnet  by  the  Avon !     (Died,  23d  April  1616.) 


MEMOIR  OF  RICHAED  SIBBES,  D.D.  xHii 

the  former,  which  I  would  now  introduce.  He  had  long  been  in 
intimate  friendship  with  the  illustrious  primate  of  Ireland,  who,  on 
his  visits  to  London,  was  wont  to  invite  himself  to  his  '  study.'  * 
One  early  notice  of  their  mutual  regard  is  contained  in  a  por- 
tion of  a  letter  from  Dr  John  Preston  to  Ussher.  It  is  as  fol- 
lows:  'March  16.  1619. — Your  papers  you  shall  surely  have  with 
yoa ;  and  if  there  be  no  remedy  that  I  cannot  see  you  myself,  I 
shall  entreat  you  to  make  'plain  to  Mr  Sibbes  (or  whom  else  you  will) 
the  last  point  especially,  when  the  LXX  weeks  began,  though  I 
should  speak  to  you  about  many  other  things."  f  The  following 
brief  letter  of  Sibbes  himself  a  few  years  onward,  1622,  gives  us  a 
further  ghmpse  of  their  relations,  as  well  as  of  various  memorable 
names  and  occurrences.  Ussher  was  then  Bishop  of  Meath. 
Mr  E.  Sibbs  to  the  Bishop  of  Meath. I 

I  could  not,  Eight  Reverend  Sir,  omit  so  fit  an  opportunity  of  writing 
unto  you  as  the  coming  of  two  of  my  worthy  friends,  Sir  Nathaniel  Rich 
and  Mr  Crew ;  though  it  were  but  to  signify  unto  you  that  I  retain  a 
thankful  and  respectfd  remembrance  of  your  lordship's  former  love  and 
kindness.  Mr  Crew  is  akeady  known  unto  you  ;  Sir  Nathaniel,  I  think,  a 
stranger  yet  unto  you ;  you  shall  find  him  for  sincerity,  wisdom,  and  right 
judgment  worthy  your  inward  acquaintance.  How  matters  stand  here  you 
shall  have  better  information  from  those  worthy  gentlemen  than  from  me. 
For  Cambridge  matters,  I  suppose  your  lordship  hath  aheady  heard  that 
Dr  Ward  is  chosen  professor  in  Dr  Davenant's  place ;  there  is  hope  of  Mr 
Preston's  coming  to  be  lecturer  at  Lincoln's  Inn,  which  place  is  now  void. 
Mrs  More,  Mr  Drake  and  his  wife,  Mr  Dod,  with  others  that  love  you 
heartily  in  the  Lord,  are  in  good  health,  the  Lord  be  praised.  Sir  Henry 
Savil  hath  ended  his  days,  secretary  Murray  succeeding  him  in  Eton,  but 
report  will  prevent  my  letter  in  this  and  other  matters.  Sir,  I  long  to  see 
your  begun  historical  discourse  of  the  perpetual  continuity  of  a  visible 
church,  lengthened  and  brought  to  these  latter  times.  No  one  point  will 
stop  the  clamour  of  our  adversaries  more,  nor  furnish  the  weaker  with  a 
better  plea.  Others  not  very  well  affiected  to  the  Waldenses,  &c.,  for  some 
tenets  .  .  .  have  gone  about  to  prove  what  you  do  some  other  ways.  But 
perhaps  the  present  exigence  of  your  Church  is  such  as  taketh  up  your 
daily  endeavours  and  thoughts.  And  I  know  the  zeal  of  your  heart  for  the 
public  good  will  put  you  forward  for  whatsoever  is  for  the  best  advantage 
of  the  common  cause.     I  fear  lest  the  encountering  with  that  daring  chal- 

*  'Ussher  and  Sibbes.'  Brook's  'Lives  of  the  Puritans,'  vol.  ii.  p.  416.  From 
Brook's  own  copy,  interleaved  and  containing  additional  MS.  notes.  In  the  library 
of  Joshua  Wilson,  Esq.,  Tunbridge  Wells. 

t  '  Preston  and  Ussher.'  This  and  the  succeeding  correspondence  I  take  from 
'The  whole  Works  of  the  Most  Kev.  James  Ussher,  D.D.,  Lord  Archbishop  of 
Armagh  and  Primate  of  all  Ireland.  With  a  Life  of  the  Author,  and  an  Account 
of  his  Writings.  By  Charles  Richard  Elriugton,  D.D.,  Regius  Professor  of  Divinity 
in  the  University  of  Dubhn.  Dublin :  Hodges  &  Smith.  16  vols.  8vo,  1847,  seq.' 
See  vol.  xvi.  p.  873.  Elrington  supersedes  Parr  (who  also  gives  the  most  of  the 
letters),  and  I  therefore  take  the  whole  from  him. 

X  '  Sibbes  to  Usher.'     Letter  ccclxiii.     Vol.  xvi.  p.  395,  396. 


xliv  MEMOIE  OF  RIOHAED  SIBBES,  D.D. 

lenger  breed  you  a  succession  of  troubles.  How  far  you  have  proceeded 
in  this  matter  we  know  not.  The  Lord  lead  you  through  all  conflicts  and 
businesses,  with  comfortable  evidence  of  his  wisdom  in  guiding  you,  and 
goodness  in  a  blessed  issue. 

Your  Lordship's  in  all  Christian  affection  and  service, 

B.  SiBBS. 

Gray's  Inn,  March  21.  1622. 

Advancing  to  1626-27,  Ussher  was  now  archbishop  and  primate, 
and  involved  in  an  imbroglio  of  political  and  ecclesiastical  difficul- 
ties. His  was  only  a  splendid  exile.  He  writes,  half-mournfully 
half  in  dread,  under  date  '  Feby.  9th,  1626  :' — '  As  for  the  general 
state  of  things  here,  they  are  so  desperate  that  I  am  afraid  to  write 
anything  thereof.'*  He  was  specially  '  troubled '  in  the  matter  of 
'  Trinity  College,'  of  which  he  was  the  patron.  Sir  William  Temple  • 
was  provost,  and  from  his  great  age,  utterly  inefficient,  and  even  in 
dotage.  There  were  perpetual  disputes  between  him  and  the 
'  fellows,'  so  much  so  that  the  removal  of  the  provost,  in  some 
quiet  manner,  was  felt  to  be  the  only  method  of  preserving  the 
discipline  and  good  order  of  the  college.  To  this  Ussher  addressed 
himself,  and  ultimately  persuaded  the  old  man — a  not  unhistoric 
name — to  resign,  on  condition  that  Sibbes  took  his  place.  This  we 
learn  from  a  letter  of  the  primate  to  Archbishop  Abbot,  to 
whom,  on  10th  January  1626-27,  he  writes  : — 'The  time  is  now 
come  wherein  we  have  at  last  wrought  upon  Sir  William  Temple 
to  give  up  his  place,  if  the  other  may  he  drawn  over'  That 
'  other '  was  Sibbes.  But  all  difficulty  about  the  resignation,  with 
or  without  conditions,  was  unexpectedly  removed  by  the  death  of 
Sir  William,  who  expired  on  the  15th  of  January  1626-27,  five 
days  only  after  the  date  of  Ussher's  letter, — upon  which  he  again 
wrote  Abbot  in  favour  of  Sibbes.  The  whole  correspondence  is  of 
the  last  interest,  and  is  self-explanatory.  It  may  now  be  given  in 
order,  the  more  so,  that,  excepting  one  of  the  letters,  it  has  been 
overlooked  or  left  unused  : — 

The  Archbishop  of  Armagh  to  the  most  Reverend  George  Abbot, 
Archbishop  of  Canterbury.^ 

My  most  Gracious  Lord, — When  I  took  my  last  leave  of  you  at  Lam- 
beth, I  made  bold  to  move  your  grace  for  the  settlement  of  the  provostship 
of  our  college  here  upon  some  worthy  man,  whensoever  the  place  shotdd  be- 
come void.  I  then  recommended  unto  you  Mr  Sibbes,  the  preacher  of 
Gray's  Inn,  with  whose  learning,  soundness  of  judgment,  and  uprightness 
of  life  I  was  very  well  acquainted  ;  and  it  pleased  your  grace  to  Hsten  unto 
my  motion,  and  give  way  to  the  coming  over  of  the  person  named,  when 
time  required.  The  time,  my  lord,  is  now  come,  wherein  we  have  at  last 
wrought  Sir  William  Temple  to  give  up  his  place,  if  the  other  may  be 

*  Usshier,  xv.  365-6.  f  Ussher,  letter  exxi.  xv.  361-2. 


MEMOIE  OF  RICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D.  xlv 

drawn  over.  And  therefore  I  most  humbly  entreat  your  gi'ace  to  give  unto 
Mr  Sibbes  that  encouragement  he  deserveth ;  in  whose  behalf  I  dare  under- 
take that  he  shall  be  as  observant  of  you,  and  as  careful  to  put  in  execution 
all  your  directions,  as  any  man  whosoever.  The  matter  is  of  so  great  im- 
portance for  the  good  of  this  poor  church,  and  your  fatherly  care,  as  well  of 
the  church  ia  general,  as  our  college  in  particular,  so  well  known,  that  I 
shall  not  need  to  press  you  herein  with  many  words.  And  therefore,  leav- 
ing it  whoUy  to  your  grace's  grave  consideration,  and  beseeching  Almighty 
God  to  bless  you  in  the  managing  of  your  weighty  employments,  I  humbly 
take  my  leave,  and  rest, 

Your  grace's  ia  all  duty,  ready  to  be  commanded, 

J.  A. 
Drogheda,  January  10.  1626. 

At  the  same  time,  the  primate  addressed  a  similar  letter  to  the 
'  Honourable  Society  of  Gray's  Inn,'  to  deprecate  their  putting  any 
obstacles  in  the  way  of  Sibbes's  acceptance.  By  a  slip  of  the  pen,  he 
inserts — '  Lincoln's'  instead  of  '  Gray's '  Inn.  As  himself  formerly 
*  preacher '  in  '  Lincoln's,'  the  mistake  was  natural : — 

The  Archbishop  of  Armagh  to  the  Honourable  Society  of  Gray^s-Inn.^^ 

My  most  worthy  Friends, — I  cannot  sufficiently  express  my  thankful- 
ness unto  you  for  the  honour  which  you  have  done  unto  me,  in  vouchsafing 
to  admit  me  into  your  society,  and  to  make  me  a  member  of  your  own 
body.  Yet  so  is  it  fallen  out  for  the  present,  that  I  am  enforced  to  dis- 
charge one  piece  of  debt  with  entering  into  another.  For  thus  doth  the 
case  stand  with  us.  Sir  William  Temple,  who  hath  governed  our  college 
at  Dublin  these  seventeen  years,  finding  age  and  weakness  now  to  increase 
upon  him,  hath  resolved  to  ease  himself  of  that  burthen,  and  resign  the 
same  to  some  other.  Now  of  all  others  whom  we  could  think  of,  your 
worthy  preacher  Mr  Sibbes  is  the  man  upon  whom  all  our  voices  have  here 
settled,  as  one  that  hath  been  well  acquainted  with  an  academical  life,  and 
singularly  well  qualified  for  the  undertaking  of  such  a  place  of  government. 
I  am  not  ignorant  what  damage  you  are  to  sustain  by  the  loss  of  such  an 
able  man,  with  whose  ministry  you  have  been  so  long  acquainted  ;  but  I 
consider  withal,  that  you  are  at  the  well-head,  where  the  defect  may  quickly 
be  supplied  ;  and  that  it  somewhat  also  tendeth  to  the  honour  of  your 
Society,  that  out  of  all  the  king's  dominions  youi'  house  should  be  singled 
out  for  the  place  unto  which  the  seminary  of  the  whole  Church  in  this  king- 
dom should  have  recourse  for  help  and  succour  in  this  case.  And  therefore 
my  most  earnest  suit  unto  you  is,  that  you  would  give  leave  unto  Mr  Sibbes 
to  repair  hither,  at  leastwise  for  a  time,  that  he  may  see  how  the  place  will 
like  him.  For  which  great  favour  our  whole  Church  shall  be  obUged  unto 
you :  and  I,  for  my  part,  shall  evermore  profess  myself  to  rest 

Your  own  in  all  Christian  service,  Ready  to  be  commanded, 

J.  A. 

Drogheda,  January  10.  1626. 

Further : — 

The  Archbishop  of  Armagh  to  the  most  Reverend  George  Abbot, 
Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  f 
My  very  good  Lord, — I  wrote  unto  your  grace  heretofore  concerning 
*  Ussher,  letter  cxx.,  xv.  363-4.  t  Ussher,  letter  cxxi.,  xv.  366. 


Xlvi  MEMOIR  OF  RICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D. 

the  substitution  of  Mr  Sibbes  into  tbe  place  of  Sir  William  Temple.  But 
having  since  considered  with  myself  how  some  occasions  may  fall  out  that 
may  hinder  him  from  coming  hither,  and  how  many  most  unfit  persons  are 
now  putting  in  for  that  place,  I  have  further  emboldened  myself  to  signify 
thus  much  more  of  my  mind  unto  you,  that  in  case  Mr  Sibbes  do  not  come 
unto  us,  I  cannot  think  of  a  more  worthy  man,  and  more  fitted  for  the 
government  of  that  college,  than  Mi*  Bedel,  who  hath  heretofore  remained 
with  Sir  Henry  Wotton  at  Venice,  and  is  now  beneficed  about  Berry.  If 
either  he,  or  Dr  Featly,  or  any  other  worthy  man  whom  you  shall  think 
fit,  can  be  induced  to  accept  of  the  place ;  and  your  grace  will  be  pleased  to 
advise  the  fellows  of  the  coUege  to  elect  him  thereunto  ;  that  poor  house 
shall  ever  have  cause  to  bless  your  memory  for  the  settlement  of  it  at  such 
a  time  as  this,  where  so  many  labour  to  make  a  prey  of  it. 

Of  the  '  occurrences '  that  might  '  fall  out '  to  hinder  Sibbes  from 
coming,  the  primate  had  been  informed  in  our  next  letter  : — 
Me  R.  Sibbs  to  the  Archbishop  of  Armagh* 

Right  Rev.  and  my  very  good  Lord, — I  answered  your  letters  presently 
upon  the  receipt  of  them,  but  out  of  a  mind  diversely  affected  as  divers 
things  presented  themselves  to  me ;  it  much  moved  me  when  I  perceived 
your  great  care  of  the  place,  the  cost,  the  trouble,  the  more  than  ordinary 
inchnation  towards  me,  far  beyond  any  deserts  of  mine.  Yet  as  I  signi- 
fied to  your  grace,  when  I  consider  God's  providence  in  raising  me  so  little 
before,  to  another  place,  and  that  compatible  with  my  present  employment 
here  in  London,  it  moveth  me  to  think  it  were  rash  to  adventure  upon 
another  place.  And  I  have  entered  into  a  coui'se  of  procuring  some  good 
to  the  college,  which  is  like  to  be  frustrate,  if  I  now  leave  them,  and  they 
exposed  to  some  who  intend  to  serve  their  own  turn  of  them.  The  scandal 
whereof  would  lie  upon  me.  The  judgment  of  my  friends  here  is  for  my 
stay,  considering  I  am  fixed  already,  and  there  must  be  a  call  for  a  place  ; 
as  to  a  place,  they  allege  the  good  which  may  be  done,  and  doubtfulness  of 
good  succession  here  ;  and  that  it  were  better  that  some  other  man  had 
that  place  that  were  not  so  fixed  here.  These  and  such  like  considerations 
move  them  to  think,  that  when  your  lordship  shaU  know  how  it  is  with  me 
at  this  time,  that  you  will  think  of  some  other  successor.  Nothing  of  a 
great  time  so  much  troubled  me.  I  humbly  desire  you,  my  lord,  to  take  in 
good  paii  this  my  not  accepting,  considering  now  there  be  other  difiiculties 
than  were  when  you  were  in  England  with  us.  It  is  not  yet  openly  known 
that  I  refuse  it,  that  so  you  may  have  time  of  pitching  upon  another,  I 
write  now  this  second  time,  fearing  lest  my  former  letter  might  miscarry. 
I  could  set  the  comfort  by  you  against  many  objections,  were  not  that  late 
chief  in  Cambridge,  I  count  it  one  part  of  my  happiness  in  especial  man- 
ner, that  ever  I  knew  your  lordship  ;  the  remembrance  of  you  will  be  fresh 
m  my  heart  whilst  I  live,  which  will  move  me  to  desire  the  multiplying  of 
aU  happiness  upon  you  and  yours, 

I  have  not  dehvered  the  letter  to  my  lord  of  Canterbury,  because  it  hath 
reference  to  the  business  as  it  concemeth  me.  The  Lord  continue  to 
honour  you  in  his  service  for  the  good  of  many,  and  to  keep  you  in  these 
dangerous  times, — Your  Grace's  to  command  in  the  Lord, 

E.  SiBBS. 

Gray's  Inn,  Feb.  7.  A.D.  1626. 

I  humbly  desire  you  to  remember  my  service  and  respects  to  Mrs  Ussher, 

*  Ussher,  letter  ccclxxxvi.,  s  \i.!l40-l. 


MEMOIR  OF  KICHAKD  SIBBES,  D.D.  xlvil 

Upon  receipt  of  this  the  primate  wrote  :* — '  But  now  very  lately, 
even  by  the  last  packet,  I  have  received  a  letter  from  Mr  Sibbs, 
signifying  his  doubtfulness  of  accepting  the  place  of  provost  here 
(he  having  beine  at  the  same  tirine  chosen  head  of  another  college 
in  Cambridge),  which  hath  much  altered  our  intentions.'  A  few 
days  later,  Ussher  was  informed  more  definitely  by  Dr  Samuel 
Ward  of  Sibbes's  election  to  the  Mastership  of  '  Catherine  Hall.' 
I  give  an  extract,  with  context,  as  it  introduces  to  us  an  eminent 
ornament  of  Sibbes's  circle  : — 

Br  Samuel  Ward  to  Ussher — London,  '  Feb.  13.  1626.'f 

The  25tli  of  January  deceased  your  good  friend  and  mine,  Mr  Henry 
Alvey,  at  Cambridge.  I  was  with  him  twice  when  he  was  sick  :  the  first 
time  I  found  him  sick,  but  very  patient  and  comfortable.  He  earnestly 
prayed  that  God  would  give  him  patience  and  perseverance.  The  later 
time  I  came  he  was  in  a  slumber,  and  did  speak  nothing :  I  prayed  for 
him,  and  then  departed.  Shortly  after  he  departed  this  life.  He  desired 
to  be  buried  privately,  and  in  the  churchyard,  and  in  a  sheet  only,  without 
a  coffin,  for  so,  said  he,  was  our  Saviour.  But  it  was  thought  fitting  he 
should  be  put  in  a  coffin,  and  so  he  was  :  I  was  at  his  interring  the  next 
day  at  night.  Thus  Grod  is  daily  collecting  his  saints  to  himself.  The 
Lord  prepare  us  aU  for  the  dies  ascensionis,  as  St  Cyprian  styleth  it. 
Since  the  death  of  Dr  Walsall,  Dr  Goslin,  our  vice-chancellor,  and  Dr  Hill, 
master  of  St  Katherine  HaU,  are  both  dead.  In  their  places  succeed,  in 
Bennet  College,  Dr  Butts ;  in  Caius  CoUege,  IVIr  Bachcroft,  one  of  the  fel- 
lows ;  in  Katherine  Hall,  Mr  Sibbes  of  Gray's  Inn. 

Notwithstanding  Sibbes's  intimation,  that  he  had  not  delivered 
the  primate's  letter  to  Abbot,  he  must  have  subsequently  changed 
his  mind,  and  done  so.  To  Ussher's  recommendation.  Archbishop 
Abbot  lent  a  cordially  willing  ear.  This  appears  by  his  letter  in  reply, 
which  would  also  seem  to  indicate  that  Sibbes  had  been  persuaded 
to  go  over  to  Ireland,  probably  to  consult  personally  with  his  friend : — 

The  most  Reverend  George  Abbot,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  to 
the  Archbishop  of  Armagh.X 

My  very  good  Lord, — ^I  send  unto  you  Mr  Sibbes,  who  can  best  report 
what  I  have  said  unto  him.  I  hope  that  coUege  sbaU  in  him  have  a  very 
good  master,  which  hitherto  it  hath  not  had.  You  shall  make  my  excuse 
to  the  fellows  that  I  write  not  unto  them.  You  shall  do  well  to  pray  to 
God  that  he  wiU  bless  his  church ;  but  be  not  too  soUcitous  in  that  matter, 
which  will  fall  of  itself,  God  Almighty  being  able  and  ready  to  support  his 
own  cause.  But  of  aU  things  take  heed  that  you  project  no  new  ways;  for 
if  they  fail  you  shall  bear  a  grievous  burden ;  if  they  prosper,  there  shall  be 
no  thanks  to  you.  Be  patient,  and  tarry  the  Lord's  leisure.  And  so  com- 
mending me  unto  you,  and  to  the  rest  of  your  brethren,  I  leave  you  to  the 
Almighty,  and  remain. 

Your  lordship's  loving  brother,  G.  Cant. 

Lambeth,  March  19.  1626. 

Sibbes  no  doubt  found,  on  his  arrival  in  Dublin,  that  the  '  place 
*  Ussher,  let'er  cccxci.,  xvi.  453.        f  Ussher,  xv.  369.        1  Ueshen  xv.  376 


Xlviii  MEMOIK  OF  EICHAED  SIBBES,  D.D. 

was  likely  to  prove  harassing,  and  to  lead  him  into  controversy. 
A  sentence  from  a  letter  of  Joseph  Mede,  in  like  circumstances, 
explains  his  declinature  : — '  I  would  not,'  he  writes  to  Ussher,  '  be 
willing  to  adventure  into  a  strange  country  upon  a  litigious  title, 
having  seen  the  bad  experience  at  home  of  perpetual  jars  and  dis- 
contents from  such  beginnings.'  *  Similar  reasons,  combined  with 
the  attractions  of  Gray's  Inn  and  Cambridge,  led  Sibbes  to  return, 
leaving  the  provostship  of  Trinity  College,  Dublin,  to  be  filled  by 
the  afterwards  revered  Bishop  Bedell. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

MASTER  OF  CATHARINE  HALL,  CAMBRIDGE. 

Accepts  Mastership — Relaxation  of  '  order'  at  Gray's  Inn — Founder  of  Catharine 
Hall  and  its  celebrities — Its  condition — '  Troublous  times' — Dr  John  Preston — 
Trinity  Lectureship — Bishopric  declined — Friendship  between  Sibbes  and 
Preston — Fellow-labourers — Conversion  of  Preston — The  effect  of  the  preach- 
ing of  the  two  Puritan  Masters — Auditory  of  St  Mary's — Memorials  of  Trinity 
Lecture — ^Success  of  Sibbes  as  Master — Clarke  and  Fuller — Fellows. 

Having  dechned  the  Provostship  of  Trinity  College,  Dublin, 
Sibbes  at  once  accepted  the  Mastership  of  Catharine  Hall,  Cam- 
bridge, to  which,  as  has  been  narrated,  he  was  almost  simultane- 
ously elected.  No  record  remains  of  the  influence  used  to  secure 
this  coveted  and  often  contested  honour  for  the  '  outed'  Fellow  and 
'  deprived'  Lecturer.  It  is  not  improbable  that  it  was  to  Dr  John 
Preston,  the  Puritan  Master  of  the  'nest  of  Puritans'  (so  his  enemies 
designated  it),  Emmanuel,  that  he  was  indebted.  Preston  was  then 
in  the  height  of  his  favour  with  the  Duke  of  Buckingham, — the 
acceptance  of  whose  patronage  is  one  of  the  stains  upon  the  memory 
of  the  Puritans.  He  had  long  been  in  close  friendship  with  the 
preacher  of  Gray's  Inn. 

There  must  have  been  some  relaxation  of  the  '  order '  under 
which  Sibbes  accepted  the  appointment  of  preacher  to  Gray's 
Inn, — to  admit  of  his  accepting  the  mastership  of  Catharine  Hall, 
without  resignation  of  the  other.  The  statute  is  very  explicit,  as 
will  be  seen : — '  15  Nov.  40  Eliz.  (1598-9). — The  divinity-reader 
to  be  chosen  shall  be  nominated,  having  no  ecclesiastical  prefer- 
vnent  other  than  a  prebend  without  cure  of  souls,  nor  readership  in 
any  other  place  ;  and  shall  keep  the  same  place  as  long  as  he  con- 
tinues thus  qualified,  and  no  longer ;  and  to  be  charged  with 
reading  but  twice  a  week,  except  when  there  is  a  communion.'! 

*  Ussher,  as  ante,  p.  455-56,  vol.  xvi. 

t  This  '  order '  was  made  in  the  term  previous  to  the  election  of  the  successor  of 


MEMOIE  OP  EIOHAKD  SIBBES,  D.D.  xKx 

There  were  then,  as  now,  the  two  distinct  offices  of  reader,  some- 
times called  chaplain,  and  of  preacher,  sometimes  called  lecturer,  and 
as  in  above  order, '  divinity-reader.'  *  So  that  it  was  the  more  easy 
to  arrange  for  Sibbes's  absence  during  the  week.  From  an  entry, 
under  date  19th  Jan.  1612,  we  learn  that  '  The  preacher,  ye  chap- 
lain, ye  steward were  to  be  allowed  such  commons  as 

gentlemen.']  Not  as  '  gentleman '  merely,  but  as  associate  and 
friend,  was  Sibbes  regarded.  The  anxiety  of  the  *  ancients,  barris- 
ters, students,'  to  retain  his  services,  would  also  smoothe  the  way  to 
place  in  practical  desuetude  the  '  order '  as  to  '  no  other  ecclesiastical 
preferment'  Be  all  this  as  it  may,  Sibbes  entered  on  the  master- 
ship of  Catharine  Hall  forthwith.  J 

Catharine  or  Katharine  Hall,  on  whose  Mastership  Sibbes  thus 
entered,  was  then,  as  it  continues,  one  of  the  minor  Colleges  of  the 
University.  Yet  is  it  not  without  its  own  celebrities,  even  the 
foremost  names  of  Enghsh  theology.  Church  and  Puritan,  before 
and  since.  It  proudly  tells  of  John  Bradford  the  martyr,  John 
Maplet,  John  Overall,  William  Strong,  Ralph  Robinson,  Ralph 
Brownrig,  John  Arrowsmith,  WiUiam  Spurstowe,  James  Shirley 
(the  dramatist),  John  Lightfoot,  Thomas  Goodwin,  John  Ray,  Wil- 
liam Wotton,  John  Strjrpe,  Thomas  Sherlock,  Joseph  Milner,  and 
has  recently  lost  Charles  Hardwick.  It  was  founded  by  a  Robert 
Woodlark,  D.D.,  §  (whose  name  has  passed  away  Uke  his  namesake's 
song  of  a  previous  summer),  in  1475  ;  and  took  its  name  in  honour 
of  the  '  virgin  and  martyr  St  Katherine.'  Its  original  endowment, 
beyond  '  the  tenements  and  garden,'  was  small  for  even  those  days. 

a  certain  Dr  Crooke,  who  was  preacher  from  1583  to  1599.  His  successor  was  a  Mr 
Fenton,  elected  7th  Feb.,  41st  Eliz.,  1598-99.  In  respect  to  the  preacher  being 
unmarried,  the  '  order '  was  rigid,  and  probably  explains  why  Sibbes  remained  so 
to  the  end.  I  cull  a  couple  of  entries  that  don't  say  very  much  for  the  chivalry  of 
the  Gray's  Inn  authorities  : — 1612.  'A  ffine  paid  upon  change  of  life.'  1630 
'Noe  women  to  come  into  any  pt.  of  ye  Chapell.'  1647,  '  No  familie  to  bee  in  the 
house.' — Segar  MS. 

*  '  Chaplain.' — I  note  certain  little  memoranda  in  relation  to  the  '  Chaplain,'  aa 
distingushed  from  the  '  preacher :'  the  later  from  Segar,  being  one  of  the  items 
included  in  the  destroyed  originals — the  warrrant  itself  having  perished ;  and  the 
earlier  from  the  'order-book'  at  Gray's  Inn: — 1625,  "Warrant  (granted)  to  pay  to 
the  treasurer  of  Gray's  Inn  £6:13:4,  June  25.  yearly,  during  pleasure,  for  a  chap- 
lain to  read  service  daily  in  the  chapel  there.  An  earlier  entry  runs  thus  : — '  5th 
Feb.  1620.     Mr  Finch  allowed  4/  a  week  for  reading  in  the  Chappell.' 

t  '  Order-Book'  Gray's  Inn,  p.  16,  Segar  MS. 

X  In  Carter's  History  of  the  University  of  Cambridge  (pp.  202-6),  and  Graduati 
Cantabrigienses,  Dr  Brownrig  is  erroneously  stated  to  have  been  elected  Master 
of  Catharine  Hall  in  1631.  Even  so  accurate  a  writer  as  Mr  Eussell  ('  Memorial* 
of  Fuller',  p.  114)  repeats  the  blunder. 

§  '  Dr  Woodelark.'  The  Cambridge  Antiquarian  Society  have  published  a  Cata- 
logue  of  Books  presented  by  the  founder  to  '  Catharine  HaU.' 


1  MEMOIR  OF  EICHAED  SIBBES,  D.D. 

It  had  some  subsequent  '  benefactors,'  among  wbom  appear,  earlier 
and  later,  Barnardistons  and  Claypoles.  At  the  period  of  Sibbes's 
election,  the  buildings  were  dilapidated,  the  revenues  limited,  the 
students  few  in  number.  But  he  threw  his  whole  soul  into  his 
office,  and  speedily  not  only  attracted  a  fair  share  of  young  men, 
but  also  persuaded  his  many  noble  and  wealthy  friends  to  become 
'benefactors.  So  early  as  1630,  there  were  no  fewer  than  twenty- 
eight  new  entries  of  students  ;  and,  by  that  time,  the  hall  was  reno- 
vated and  adorned. 

Sibbes  entered  on  his  mastership  in  '  troublous  times.'  When 
deprived  of  his  'lectureship'  at  Trinity — which  in  all  probability, 
as  we  said,  originated  with  the  memorial  addressed  to  him  by  the 
parishioners — he  was  succeeded  by  a  John  Jeffrey,  of  Pembroke 
Hall,  who  resigned  in  1624.  Upon  his  resignation  a  remarkable 
contest  for  the  situation  ensued.  The  '  townsmen' — who  were  now 
leavened  with  Puritanism  through  his  preaching,  and  that  of  his 
associates — were  desirous  of  electing  Dr  Preston  ;  and  to  make  it 
better  worth  his  acceptance,  raised  the  stipend  from  i?4-0  or  £50, 
to  dC'SO  a  year.  He  was  opposed  by  Paul  Micklethwaite,  felk  w  of 
Sidney  College,  who  was  supported  by  the  Bishop  of  Ely,  Francis 
White,  a  creature  of  Laud's,  and  the  heads  of  colleges.  It  is  diffi- 
cult to  understand  on  what  plea  there  was  interference  with  the 
'  townsmen.'  They  had  themselves  originated  the  lectureship , 
had  themselves  appointed  Sibbes,  had  themselves  supported  it. 
But  the  matter  came  before  the  king  at  Royston,  and  so  intense 
was  the  royal  wish  to  root  out  Puritanism,  his  primate  inciting 
him  to  the  dastardly  work,  that  Dr  Preston  was  actually  offered  a 
bishopric,  the  see  of  Gloucester  being  then  void.  He  refused  to 
withdraw.  He  accepted  and  entered  upon  the  lectureship.  All 
honour  to  the  man  who  spurned  a  mitre,  its  honours  and  revenues 
alike,  when  offered  at  the  price  of  proving  false  to  the  earnest 
desires  of  'the  people'  to  have  the  gospel,  the  very  gospel, 
preached  to  them, — wherein,  in  the  high  but  truthful  enco- 
mium of  Goodwin,  he  did  '  bow  his  more  sublime  and  raised  parts 
to  lowest  apprehension.'  *  When  Sibbes  returned  to  Cambridge 
therefore,  he  found  in  Preston  one  like-minded,  while  equally  did 
Preston  find  in  him  one  worthy  to  stand  by  his  side,  and  '  display  a 
banner  because  of  the  truth.' 

Preston  and  Sibbes,  from  the  date  of  the  mastership  of  the  latter, 
were  the  two  great  centres  of  influence  in  Cambridge,  in  so  far  as 
the  preaching  of  the  gospel  was  concerned.  They  loved  one  an- 
other with  a  love  that  was  something  wonderful.  They  were  as 
*  To  the  Reader.  .  .  .  Sermons  before  His  Majesty,  1630.    4to. 


I 


MEMOIB  OF  RICHAED  SIBBES,  D.D.  U 

David  and  Jonathan  in  earlier,  and  as  Luther  and  Melanchthon  in 
later,  days.  They  were  never  found  apart  when  anything  was  to 
be  done  for  theie  Master.  To  the  last  it  was  so  ;  and  when  the 
prematurely  old  Master  of  '  Emmanuel'  died,  he  left  all  his 
papers  to  his  beloved  friend  the  Master  of  Catharine  Hall,  along 
with  John  Davenport,  sending  words  of  kindly  greeting  by  Lord 
Say  and  Seale  to  Gray's  Inn.  As  Sibbes's  return  to  Cambridge, 
and  association  with  Preston,  formed  a  marked  era  in  his  life  and 
life-work,  it  is  needful  to  dwell  for  a  little  on  the  history  of  his  friend. 

Dr  Preston  was  a  man  of  extraordinary  force  of  character 
and  splendour  of  eloquence,  and  burned  with  the  zeal  of  a 
seraph.  Very  remarkable  were  his  antecedents.  For  years, 
like  John  Cotton,  he  had  been  the  glory  of  the  'wits'  for 
his  learning  and  faculty  of  utterance.  But  by  John  Cotton's 
first  sermon  after  his  'change,'  he  had  been  smitten  as  between 
joints  and  marrow,  soul  and  spirit,  and  thenceforward  had  known 
nothing  but  Christ  Jesus  crucified.  Cotton  Mather  tells  the  story 
of  his  conversion  finely,  and  we  may  pause  over  it  for  a  moment. 
'  Some  time  after  this  change  upon  the  soul  of  Mr  Cotton,'  he 
says,  '  it  came  to  his  turn  again  to  preach  at  St  Mary's ;  and 
because  he  was  to  preach,  an  high  expectation  was  raised  through 
the  whole  university  that  they  should  hear  a  se.mon  flourishing 
indeed  with  all  the  learning  of  the  whole  university.  Many  diffi- 
culties had  Mr  Cotton  in  his  own  mind,  and  what  course  to  steer.' 
And  then  he  proceeds  to  tell  how  he  decided  '  to  preach  a 
plain  sermon,  even  such  a  sermon  as  in  his  own  conscience  he 
thought  would  be  most  pleasing  unto  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ ;  and 
he  discoursed  practically  and  powerfully,  but  very  solidly,  upon 
the  plain  doctrine  of  repentance.'  What  then  ?  '  The  vain  wits 
of  the  university,  disappointed  thus  with  a  more  excellent  sermon, 
that  shot  some  troublesome  admonitions  into  their  consciences, 
discovered  their  vexation  at  this  disappointment  by  their  not 
humming,  as  according  to  their  sinful  and  absurd  custom  they  had 
formerly  done ;  and  the  vice-chancellor,  for  the  very  same  reason 
also,  graced  him  not  as  he  did  others  that  pleased  him.  Never- 
theless,' adds  Mather,  'the  satisfaction  which  he  enjoyed  in  his 
own  faithful  soul  abundantly  compensated  unto  him  the  loss  of 
any  human  favour  or  honour ;  nor  did  he  go  without  many  en- 
couragements from  some  doctors,  then  having  a  better  sense  of 
rehgion  upon  them,  who  prayed  him  to  persevere  in  the  good  way 
of  preaching  which  he  had  now  taken.'  And  then  he  continues, 
with  exultation,  '  But  perhaps  the  greatest  consolation  of  all,  was  a 
notable  effect  of   the  sermon   then   preached.      The  famous  Dr 

VOL.  I.  d 


lii  MEMOIE  OP  EICHAKD  SIBBES,  D.D. 

Preston,  then  a  fellow  of  Queen's  College  in  Cambridge,  and  of 
great  note  in  the  university,  came  to  hear  Mr  Cotton,  with  the 
same  "  itching  ears "  as  others  were  then  led  withal.  For  some 
good  while  after  the  beginning  of  the  sermon,  his  frustrated  ex- 
pectation caused  him  to  manifest  his  uneasiness  all  the  ways  that 
were  then  possible  ;  but  before  the  sermon  was  ended,  Hke  one  of 
Peter's  hearers,  he  found  himself  "pierced  at  the  heart."  His 
heart  within  him  was  now  struck  with  such  resentment  of  his  own 
interior  state  before  the  God  of  heaven,  that  he  could  have  no 
peace  in  his  soul,  till,  with  a  "  wounded  soul,"  he  had  repaired 
unto  Mr  Cotton,  from  whom  he  received  those  further  assistances 
wherein  he  became  a  "  spiritual  father  "  unto  one  of  the  greatest 
men  in  his  age.'* 

These  were  men  who  believed  in  a  '  living,'  presiding  God,  and 
who  were  not  ashamed  to  recognise,  nor  afraid  to  avouch,  '  the 
finger  of  God,'  the  very  interference  of  God,  as  real  as  when 
the  Lord  met  Saul  of  Tarsus,  in  the  turning  of  a  human  soul 
to  Himself  They  saw  in  Sibbes  reaching  the  conscience  of  John 
Cotton,  and  in  John  Cotton  touching  the  heart  of  Dr  Preston, 
so  many  links  of  the  mighty  chain  of  predestination,  whose  last 
link  is  fast  to  the  throne  of  the  Eternal.  They  are  weaker  and 
not  wiser  men  who  scorn  such  faith.  It  is  not  to  be  wondered 
at,  then,  that  in  the  correspondence  of  the  Puritans  in  Cambridge 
of  this  period,  it  was  felt  to  be  '  of  God,'  that  quick  as  one  preacher 
of  the  word,  in  its  blessed  height  and  depth,  breadth  and  length, 
was  removed  thence,  another  succeeded.  William  Perkins  was  taken 
away,  but  Paul  Bayne  was  '  sent'  in  his  room.  Paul  Bayne  was 
removed,  and  Sibbes  was  sent ;  Sibbes  was  '  outed,'  and  John  Preston 
took  his  place  ;  and  now  while  the  Master  of  Emmanuel  was  longing 
for  one  who  might  be  a  fellow-helper  with  him,  again  came  Richard 
Sibbes.  The  hearts  of  the  praying  few  were  cheered,  and  under 
the  awakening,  rich,  full,  grand,  proclamations  of  the  '  grace  of  God 
that  bringeth  salvation,'  all  Cambridge  was  moved.  Preston  was 
from  day  to  day  at  Emmanuel  and  Trinity,  and  Sibbes  from  day 
to  day  at  Catharine  Hall,  preaching  as  '  dying  men  to  dying  men  ;' 
knowing  nothing  among  them  save  Jesus  Christ  and  him  crucified, 
yea,  regarding  the  demand  of  the  '  wits'  for  '  polite'  preaching  as  but 
an  awful  echo  of  the  olden  cry,  '  Let  him  come  down  from  the 
cross  and  we  will  believe  him.' 

From  trlie  title-pages  of  the  early  editions  of  their  Sermons,  we 
find  that  they  were,  again  and  again,  appointed  to  preach  at  St 
Mary's,  the  church  of  the  whole  University.  On  these  occasions 
*  Magnalia,  as  ante  page  16. 


MEMOIR  OF  RIOHABD  SIBBES,  D.D.  liu 

there  was  such  a  galaxy  of  men  assembled  as  could  not  have  been  seen 
elsewhere  in  all  the  world.  The  effect  was  electric,  among  gentle 
as  among  simple.  It  rejoices  one  to  scan  the  roll  of  the  names  of 
those  who  were  then  Masters,  Fellows,  and  Students,  and  all 
of  whom  were  found  in  attendance  on  the  preaching  of  Sibbes 
and  Preston.  With  relation  to  Sibbes,  we  read  '  The  Saint's  Safety' 
and  •  Christ  is  Best,'  'Christ's  Sufferings  for  Man's  Sin'  and  '  The 
Church's  Visitation,'  and  '  The  Saints'  Hiding-place,'  with  deepened 
interest,  as,  turning  to  the  original  title-pages,  we  find  they  were 
addressed  to  auditories  that  included  the  foremost  names  of  the 
asre.  The  dates  inform  us  that  these  sermons,  which  are  almost 
unrivalled  for  largeness,  I  might  even  say  grandeur,  of  thought,  rich- 
ness of  gospel  statement,  impressiveness  and  pungency  of  application, 
and  music  of  diction,  were  delivered  when  the  several  colleges  sent  to 
St  Mary's  names  such  as  these.  Foremost  stands  John  Milton,  then  at 
Christ's,  and  himself  writing  sonnets  on  the  very  themes  of  Sibbes's 
discourses.  Next  comes  Jeremy  Taylor,  just  entered  'pauper  scho- 
laris,'  as  Sibbes  assumed  the  Mastership.  Behind  him,  already 
renowned  as  a  '  public  orator,'  mark  George  Herbert.  Side  by  side 
with  him  rises  the  girlish  face,  with  its  strange  shadow  of  sorrow,  of 
Matthew  Wren,  destined  to  belie  God's  handwriting  in  that  face,  by 
becoming  a  '  persecutor.'  Very  different  is  the  next  that  meets  our 
eye,  William  Gouge,  of  King's.  And  beside  him  is  one  who  will 
be  the  preacher's  successor  at  Catharine  Hall,  Ralph  Brownrig, 
looking  wistfully  upward  with  his  large,  beaming  eyes.  Snug  in 
some  sequestered  pew,  taking  keen  note  of  all  in  that  marvellous 
memory  of  his,  see  Thomas  Fuller.  Worn  and  weary,  yet  moved 
to  listen,  picture  Edmund  Castell  and  Abraham  Whelock.  Sitting 
at  the  foot  of  the  pulpit  stairs  are  Charles  Chauncy  and  Richard 
Holdsworth,  and  dreamy  Peter  Sterry  from  Emmanuel.  Taking 
notes,  and  wishing  the  hour-glass  were  turned  again,  is  Joseph 
Mede.  Fronting  the  preacher,  and  intent  as  any,  lo  !  the  young 
Lord  Wriothesly,  son  of  Shakespeare's  Earl  of  Southampton,  and 
young  Sir  Dudley  North,  son  of  Lord  North  of  Kirkling,  both  of 
Sibbes's  own  college,  St  John's.  Linking  himself  arm-in-arm  with 
the  preacher  as  he  descends,  mark  stormy  John  Williams,  after- 
wards Bishop  and  '  Lord  Keeper.'  And  thus  might  be  recounted, 
almost  by  the  hundred,  names  that  still  shine  like  a  winter's  night  of 
stars.  St  Mary's  pews  and  lobbies,  crowded,  above  and  below,  with 
such  hearers,  to  such  preachers,  is  a  noticeable  mark  of  progress,* 
Perhaps  I  cannot  better  illustrate  the  advance  of  Puritanism 

•  I  have  gathered  these  names,  after  Masson  (Life  of  Milton,  1.  92-99),  from 
numerous  sources,but  mainly  from  Cooper's  'Annals  of  Cambridge,'  "Wood's  'Athense' 


liV  MEMOIE  OF  EICHAED  SIBBES,  D.D. 

in  Cambridge  tlian  by  here  submitting  a  hitherto  unpublished 
document  of  this  period,  1626-27,  recovered  from  the  'Church- 
wardens' books  of  the  parish.*     It  very  strikingly  reveals  the  in- 
terest pervading  the  community  in  the  Trinity  lectureship. 
The  document  explains  itself.     I  adhere  to  its  orthography — 

*  Whereas,  such  p'sons  as  are  interessed  in  the  seates  of  the  gallerie  of 
this  church  ("  Trinity")  to  sit  there  dureinge  the  time  of  the  lecture,  have- 
inge  paid  for  the  same  to  the  p'ish,  and  yet,  notwithstanding,  are  displaced 
by  others  haveinge  not  interest  there,  to  their  greivance  and  wronge ;  and, 
unles  redresse  herein  be  speedely  had,  such  p'sons  soe  greived  will  with- 
draw their  cotribucons  from  the  said  lecture.  For  remedie  whereof,  it  is 
ordered  and  agreed  unto,  by  a  joynt  consent  of  all  the  p'shioners,  that  from 
henceforth  noe  p'son  nor  p'sons  of  what  condyc'on  soever,  except  such 
who  have  interest  in  the  seats,  shal  be  permytted  to  goe  up  into  the  gal- 
leries untyl  the  bell  have  done  tolhnge ;  and  then,  yf  any  place  be  voyd, 
or  may  be  spared  to  p'mjrtt,  in  the  fii-st  place,  grave  divines,  and  after 
them  such  others  as  shall  be  lyked  of  by  such  as  shall  keep  the  dore  ; 
and  yf  any  who  have  interest  in  the  seates  shall  bringe  any  stranger  to  be 
placed  there,  and  will  have  him  to  have  his  place  in  the  gallerie,  then  such 
j)'son  bringing  such  stranger,  to  keepe  belowe,  and  take  his  place  els  where 
for  such  tyme ;  and  yf  any  person  interessed  in  the  seats  doe  not  repair  to 
the  church  before  the  bell  have  done  tolhnge,  then  he  to  lose  his  place  for 
that  tyme. 

'  It  is  likewise  ordered,  by  ye  like  consent,  that  such  p'sons  as  have  inte- 
rest in  any  of  ye  seates  in  ye  church,  shall  not  have  it  particularly  to  them- 
selves to  place  and  displace  whom  they  will,  but  only  to  have  ye  use  of  the 
seats,  duringe  the  tyme  of  the  lecture,  for  theire  owne  p'sons,  and  to  receave 
into  them  such  other  of  the  parish,  yf  any  such  come,  as  shall  belonge  to 
such  seate,  and  such  others  likewise  as  are  people  of  qualitye  who  doe  con- 
tribute to  ye  lecture  ;  and  not  to  receave  any  children  into  their  seats. 

'  It  is  further  ordered  that  noe  seats  eyther  in  ye  galleries  or  in  ye  church 
shall  hereafter  be  disposed  of  to  any  w*^out  the  consent  of  the  parishiners 
at  a  pubUq  meetinge  in  the  church. f 

Thus  moving  the  '  whole  city,'  Sibbes  and  Preston  went  hand-in- 
hand  ;  and  long  after  they  were  gone,  when  a  very  different  spirit 

(by  Bliss),  Fuller's  '  Worthies'  (by  Nichols),  and  the  '  Lives  of  Nicholas  Ferrar,  and 
of  Matthew  Robinson,'  two  of,  I  trust,  a  series  of  like  '  Biographies,'  under  the  scho- 
larly editorial  care  of  Mr  Mayor  of  St  John's.  Consult  also  the  '  Memoirs'  of  each 
name  given.  All,  however,  wishing  to  get  real  insight  into  Cambridge-life  of 
the  period,  I  must  again  and  again  refer  to  Mr  Masson's  'Milton.'  Sibbes's 
popularity  and  success  is  testified  by  all  who  write  about  him,  and  I  can  trace  none 
who  was  so  frequently  called  to  preach  in  St  Mary's. 

*  From  '  Between  the  Churchwarden's  Accounts  for  1626  and  1627,  Trinity  Parish, 
Cambridge.'  Kindly  pointed  out  to  me  by  Mr  Wallis,  and  obligingly  transcribed, 
with  his  usual  exactness,  by  Mr  Cooper. 

t  It  may  be  as  well  to  round  off,  in  a  foot-note,  such  additional  memoranda  as  are 
in  my  possession  about  the  lectureship.  On  11th  May  1630,  there  was  again  in- 
terference and  controversy,  Dr  Thomas  Goodwin  being  the  lecturer,  A  letter 
respecting  it  was  addressed  to  the  vice-chancellor  by  Dudley  Carleton,  Viscount  Dor- 
Chester,  one  of  the  principal  secretaries  of  state.   This  '  letter'  may  be  here  given  from 


MEMOIR  OF  RIOHAED  SIBBES,  D.D.  Iv 

re^ed  in  Cambridge,  born  of  the  wild  licence  of  the  Restoration, 
white-headed  men  would  recall  their  honoured  names  with  a  sigh. 

But,  while  thus  faithful  as  a  '  servant  of  Jesus  Christ'  in  preach- 
ing, Richard  Sibbes  had  the  faculty  of  government.  Catharine 
Hall  soon  found  itself  on  an  equality  with  its  sister  colleges.  He 
returned  from  Sunday  to  Sunday,  while  the  'Courts'  sat,  to  Gray's 
Inn,  and  was  ever  forward  to  plead  the  claims  of  his  '  little  house/ 
with  his  noble  friends  there. 

We  have  many  testimonies  to  his  influence  and  usefulness  in 
both.  Of  the  former,  Samuel  Clarke  observes :  '  About  the  year 
1618  (1616),  he  was  chosen  Preacher  to  Gray's  Inn,  one  of  the 
learnedest  societies  in  England,  where  his  ministry  found  such 
general  approbation  and  acceptance  that,  besides  the  learned 
lawyers  of  the  house,  many  noble  personages,  and  many  of  the 
gentry  and  citizens,  resorted  to  hear  him,  and  many,  till  this  day 

the  Baker  MSS.  (xxvii.  137),  as  inserted  in  Cooper's  Annals  of  Cambridge  (iii.  229- 
30). 

To  my  Reverend  Friend  Mr  Dr  BuTS,  Vice-chan,  ^c. 

Sir, — By  reason  of  his  Majesties  late  directions  concerning  lecturers,  that  they 
should  read  divine  service  according  to  the  Liturgy,  before  their  lectures,  and  the 
afternoone  sermons  to  be  turned  into  catechising,  some  doubt  hath  beene  made  of  the 
continuance  of  the  lecture  at  Trinity  Church,  in  Cambr.  which  for  many  yeares  past 
hath  beene  held  at  one  of  the  cloche  in  the  afternoone,  without  divine  service  read 
before  yt,  and  cannot  be  continued  at  that  hower,  if  the  whole  service  should  be  reade 
before  the  sermon  begin.  Whereupon  his  Majestie  hath  been  informed  that  the  same  is 
a  publick  lecture,  serving  for  all  the  parishes  in  that  town  (being  fourteen  in  number), 
and  that  the  university  sermon  is  held  at  the  same  tyme,  which  would  be  troubled 
with  a  greater  resort  than  can  be  well  permitted,  yf  the  towne  sermon  should  be 
discontinued  :  and  that  the  same  being  held  at  the  accustomed  hower,  there  will  be 
tyme  enough  left  after  that  sermon  ended,  and  the  auditory  departed  thence  to  their 
own  parish  churches,  as  well  for  divine  service  as  for  catechising  in  that  and  all 
other  churches  in  the  towne,  which  could  not  well  be,  yf  divine  service  should  be 
read  in  that  church  before  the  lecture  ;  besides  the  catechising  in  that  church,  would 
hereby  be  lost.  Upon  these  motives  his  Majesty,  being  graciously  pleased  that  the 
said  lecture  may  be  continued  at  the  accustomed  hower,  and  in  manner  as  yt  hath 
been  heretofore  used,  hath  given  me  in  charge  to  make  knowne  to  you  his  royall; 
pleasure  accordingly,  but  under  this  caution,  that  not  only  divine  service,  but  cate- 
chising be  duely  read  and  used  after  that  sermon  ended,  both  in  that  and  the  rest 
of  the  churches  of  the  towne  ;  and  that  the  sermon  doe  end  in  convenient  tyme  for 
that  purpose,  soe  as  no  pretext  be  made,  either  for  the  present  or  in  future  tyme,  by 
color  of  the  foresaid  sermon,  to  hinder  either  divine  service  or  catechising,  which 
his  Majestie  is  resolved  to  have  maintained.  And  so  I  bidd  you  heartily  farewell, 
and  rest,  Yours  to  doe  you  service,  Dokchestee. 

From  Whitehall,  the  11th  of  May  1630. 

Mr  Cooper  annotates :  '  Kandolj^h  in  a  poem  "  On  Importunate  Dunnes,"  after 
curious  malediction  on  the  Cambridge  tradesmen,  adds — 

"  And  if  this  vex  'um  not,  I'le  grive  the  town, 
With  this  curse,  State,  put  Trinity  -Lecture  down."  ' 

Eandulph's  Poems,  ed.  1G43,  p.  119. 


Ivi  MEMOIR  OF  EICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D. 

(1674-77),  bless  God  for  the  benefit  which  they  received  of  him.'* 
Besides  this,  various  regulations  and  '  orders'  as  to  seats  and  right 
of  entrance  in  the  order-books,  inform  us  of  over-crowded  attendance. 
Thus,  under  1623,  'All  strangers  to  be  kept  out  of  the  Chapell  at 
Sermon,  but  such  as  are  brought  in  by  some  of  y®  society.'  Per- 
haps even  more  significant  of  a  crowd  is  what  follows  :  '  And  all  y® 
gentlemen  to  goe  out  of  y®  Chappell  bare-headed  in  decent  manner.' 
Of  the  latter,  again,  Clarke  says,  '  About  the  year  1625,  or  '26,  he 
was  chosen  Master  of  Katharine  Hall  in  Cambridge,  the  government 
whereof  he  continued  till  his  dying  day  ;  and,  indeed,  like  a  faithful 
governor,  he  was  always  very  solicitous  and  careful  to  procure  and 
advance  the  good  of  that  little  house.  For  he  procured  good  means 
and  maintenance,  by  his  interest  in  many  worthy  persons,  for  the 
enlargement  of  the  College,  and  was  a  means  and  instrument  to 
establish  learned  and  religious  Fellows  there ;  inasmuch  as,  in  his 
time,  it  proved  a  very  famous  society  for  piety  and  learning,  both  in 
Fellows  and  Scholars.'-|-  To  the  same  effect,  though  with  character- 
istic quaintness,  Fuller  testifies,  '  He  found  the  House  in  a  mean 
condition,  the  wheel  of  St.  Katharine  having  stood  still  (not  to  say 
gone  backwards)  for  some  years  together  ;  he  left  it  replenished  with 
scholars,  beautified  with  buildings,  better  endowed  with  revenues.'^ 
Somewhat  boastfully,  perhaps,  Daniel  Milles,  in  his  list  of  Masters, 
thus  describes  Sibbes  : — 

*  Ricardus  Sibbs,  Sacras  Theologiae  Professor,§  omnium  quos  prassena 
setas  viderit  vir  pientissimus,  concionator  mellitissimus,  qui  baud  pauconim 
corda  suavitate  dicendi  emoUiit,  et  vivendi  sanctitate  ad  bonam  frugem 
plane  rapuit.  Hie  erat  qui  collegium  istud  partim  temporum  injuria, 
partim  Prsefectorum  socordia  et  avaritia  bonis  suis  spoliatum,  et  omni 
honore  exutum,  ad  pristinam  famam  et  dignitatem  restituit,  quiaque  erat 
apud  omnes  pics  autoritate  maxima,  largam  benefactorum  messem,  in  hoc 
vacuum  gymnasium  feliciter  diduxit.  Adeo  ut  non  nudo  Praefecti  nomine 
dignus  videatur,  sed  alter  fiindator  censeri  debeat.' 

Other  testimonies,  as  of  Eachard,  ||  might  be  given,  were  it  needful ; 
and,  indeed,  the  tribute  of  Sir  Philip  Sidney  to  Hubert  Languet 
must  have  been  his,  from  many, 

" hating  what  is  naught, 

For  faithful  heart,  clean  hands,  and  mouth  as  true. 
With  his  sweet  skill  my  skill-less  youth  he  drew 
To  have  a  feeling  taste  of  Him  that  sits 
Beyond  the  heaven,  far  more  beyond  our  wits.'' 

[Arcadia,  Book  iii.  pp.  397-8,  ed.  1755.) 

Of  the  Fellows,  during  Sibbes's  Mastership,  may  be  named  Anthony 

*  *  Clarke,'  as  ante,  p.  144.  f  '  Clarke,'  as  ante,  p.  144. 

X  Fuller,  '  "Worthies,'  edited  by  Nichols.    2  vols.  4to.     1811,     Vol.  ii.  p.  343. 
§  ».«.,  D.D.  I  '  Eachard,'  History  of  England,  p.  451. 


MEMOIR  OF  RICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D.  Ivii 

Pym  (1628),  probably  a  relative  of  the  John  Pym,  who  was  a  per- 
sonal friend,  and  mentioned  in  his  will ;  William  Spurstowe  (1630)  ;* 
John  Sibbes  (1631),  his  nephew ;  Charles  Pym  (1631),  brother  of 
Anthony;  Koger  Fleetwood  (1632) ;  Joseph  Spurstowe  (1634). 

CHAPTER  VII. 

SIBBES  AND  LAUD — '  THE  PALATINATE.* 

The  Puritans  watclied — The  Elector  Palatine — Disasters — Shame  of  England- 
Battle  of  Prague — Frederick  and  Elizabeth  fugitives — Persecution — Circular 
Letter  by  Sibbes,  Gouge,  Taylor,  and  Davenport — Citation  before  the  Star- 
Chamber — Pronounced  '  Notorious  Delinquents.' 

All  the  emotion  and  interest  to  hear  such  preaching  as  was  that 
of  Sibbes  and  Preston,  while  it  gives  a  measure  of  the  progress  of 
Puritanism  (using  the  word  in  its  recognised  historic  and  lustrous 
sense),  is  also  to  the  student  of  the  period  a  measure  of  the  hate  with 
which  the  king  (in  so  far  as  he  had  stamina  enough  to  hate)  and 
Bishop  Laud,  now  rising  into  notice,  regarded  it.  So  early  as  1611, 
the  latter  was  a  ' whisperer'  a  '  busy-body,'  ever  going  about  with 
sly,  stealthy-paced,  panther-like  foot-fall,  and  keen,  cold  eye,  if  by 
any  means,  he  might  possess  himself  of  secrets.  Between  Gray's  Inn, 
and  Catharine  Hall,  and  St  Mary's,  with  not  unfrequent  '  sermons' 
elsewhere,  Sibbes  had  noble  vantage-ground  for  noble  service,  and 
he  was  occupying  it  to  the  full;  and  Laud  was  ready  to  pounce  upon 
him,  I  have  now  to  narrate  the  occasion.  Sibbes  was  not  a  man 
to  narrow  his  activities  to  his  own  immediate  sphere,  or  to  his  own 
country.  He  watched  with  profoundest  interest  the  progress  of  the 
great  Protestant  sister-countries,  rejoicing  in  their  joy  and  mourning 
with  their  mourning.  In  1620,  he  had  spoken  burning  words  'of 
the  Palatinate ;'  words  that  reveal  the  common  shame  of  England 
for  her  king's  pusillanimous  desertion  of  the  Elector  Frederick,  a  man 
true  and  good  in  himself,  and  knit  by  the  tenderest  ties  to  the  king  of 
England.  From  shore  to  shore  the  nation  had  rung  with  acclaim  over 
revolting  Bohemia — the  land  of  John  Huss  and  many  martyr-names. 
They  had  said  '  Amen'  to  the  rejection  of  Ferdinand  II.,  and  their 
hearts  beat  high  for  the  Elector  Palatine  chosen  in  his  stead,  when 
he  fearlessly  said  '  Yes'  to  the  call.     History  tells  the  tragic  sequel. 

*  Spurstowe.  The  date,  1630,  of  Spurstowe's  '  fellowship '  (he  was  afterwards 
Master),  shews  that  Mr  Masson  has  made  a  slip  in  enumerating  his  name  among  the 
distinguished  '  fellows  '  under  Dr  Hill's  Mastership.  Life  of  Milton,  i.  97.  I  cannot 
make  even  this  small  reference  to  Mr  Masson  without,  in  common  with  every  literary 
man  since  the  issue  of  his  book,  acknowledging  my  indebtedness  to  his  industry, 
and  almost  prodigal  elucidation  and  illustration  of  contemporary  events  and  names. 


hrm.  MEMOIB  OF  eichakd  sibbes,  d.d. 

Then  opened  what  proved  the  '  Thirty  Years'  War,'  in  which  the 
emperor,  and  pope,  and  the  king  of  Spain  were  leagued  against 
Frederick,  and  against  the  Protestant  Union  in  him.  All  Europe 
looked  on.  Our  own  England  was  humiliated,  all  but  treasonous, 
as  James  talked  his  foolish  talk  and  lived  his  unclean  life,  and  for- 
got daughter,  son-in-law.  Protestantism — all.  Driven  to  do  some- 
thing, he  did  his  little  when  too  late.  In  November  1620, 
the  Protestants  were  smitten  in  one  decisive  battle — Prague  ;  and 
Frederick  and  his  queen,  losing  Bohemia,  losing  the  Palatinate, 
losing  all,  fled  as  refugees  to  Holland.  What  followed,  only  the 
great  sealed  'book'  above  will  declare.  The  triumphant  enemy 
*  played  havoc  ;'  and,  through  many  dark  and  terrible  years,  the 
sufferings  of  the  Protestants  of  Bohemia  and  the  '  palatinate,'  were 
something  unimaginable.  The  cry  reached  England,  and  public 
help  was  sought  and  denied.  But  it  went  not  everywhere  unheard, 
unheeded.  The  Puritans,  Sibbes  among  the  first,  recognised  their 
brotherhood,  and  out  of  their  own  private  resources  sought  to  do  a 
little,  if  it  were  only  to  shew  their  sympathy.  I  have  been  for- 
tunate enough  to  recover  a  touching  memorial  of  their  efforts. 
Preserved  among  very  different  papers  in  Her  Majesty's  Record 
Office  is  a  '  circular'  letter,  which,  in  the  pathos  of  its  simple  words, 
goes  right  to  the  heart.     Here  it  is : — 

Whereas,  a  late  information  is  given  to  his  Ma"*  of  the  lamentable  dis- 
tresses of  two  hundred  and  forty  godly  preachers,  with  their  wifes  and 
families,  and  sundiie  thousands  of  godly  private  persons  with  them,  cast 
out  of  their  house  and  homes,  out  of  their  callings  and  countreys,  by 
the  furie  of  the  mercilesse  papists  in  the  Upper  Palatinate,  whose  heavie 
condicion  is  such  as  they  are  forced  to  steale  their  servises  of  religion  in 
woods  and  solitarie  places,  not  without  continual  feare  and  damage  of  their 
lives  ;  and  whose  present  want  is  such  as  they  would  be  very  thankfull  for 
coarse  bread  (and)  drinks  if  they  could  gett  it.  As  tenderinge  the  miserie 
and  want  of  deare  brethren  and  sisters,  desire  aU  godly  persons  to  whom 
these  presents  may  come,  as  fellowe  feelinge  members  of  the  same  body  of 
Jesus  Christ,  to  comiserate  their  present  want  and  enlarge  their  hearts  and 
hands  for  some  present  and  private  supply  for  them  till  some  publique 
means  (which  hereafter  may  be  hoped)  may  be  raised  for  their  reliefe,  as- 
suring themselves  that  whatsoever  is  cast  into  heaven,  and  falleth  into  the 
lappe  of  Christ  in  his  members,  shall  return  with  abundant  increase  in  the 
harvest ;  neither  lett  any  be  discouraged  least  their  bounty  should  miscarrie, 
for  we  knowe  a  sure  and  safe  way  whereby  whatsoever  is  given  shall  un- 
doubtedly come  to  their  hands  to  (whom)  it  is  intended. 

2  Martii  1627.  (Signed)  Tho.  Taylor. 

RiCHAED  SiBBS. 

John  Davenport. 
William  Gouge.* 

•  '  Circular.'  Described  in  '  Calendar  of  State  Papers,  Domestic  Series  of  the 
Reign  of  Charles  I.,  1627-28.'     By  John  Bruce,  1858  (Longman). 


MEMOIR  OP  RICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D.  Hx 

One  of  two  copies  of  this  affecting  '  circular '  is  endorsed  by- 
Land,  and  the  names  noted  so  carefully,  that  the  Sibbs  within  is 
corrected  to  Sibbes  without.  One  marvels  what  ground  even  a 
Laud  could  find  for  opposition,  much  less  persecution,  in  so  piteous 
an  appeal.  But  when  there  is  a  will  to  hurt  or  hinder,  an  occasion 
is  not  ill  to  devise.  Perchance  the  vehement  words,  *  Tnerciless 
papists,'  stung.  At  any  rate,  the  four  honoured  men,  Richard 
Sibbes,  William  Gouge,  Thomas  Taylor,  John  Davenport,  were 
summoned  before  the  Star  Chamber,  and  reprimanded.  It  is  not  at 
all  wonderful  that  William  PrjTine,  in  his  '  Canterburie's  Doom,' 
should  ask,  '  By  what  lavj  of  the  land' — a  question,  by  the  way, 
that  rings  all  through  the  charges  of  this  extraordinary  book,  like 
a  Gerizzim  curse — '  did  they  convert  Doctor  Gouge,  Doctor  Sibbes, 
Doctor  Taylor,  and  Master  Davenport,  as  notorious  delinquents, 
only  for  setting  their  hands  to  a  certificate  upon  entreaty,  testifying 
the  distressed  condition  of  some  poor  ministers  of  the  Palatinate, 
and  furthering  a  private  contribution  among  charitable  Christians 
for  their  relief,  when  public  collections  failed  V 

It  does  not  appear  what  further  steps,  if  any,  were  taken  ;  but  one 
thing  is  certain,  the  miserable  persecution  did  not  'silence'  Sibbes. 
For  he  not  only  preached,  but  published  passionately  rebuking 
words  against  the  national  lukewarmness.  *  What,'  asks  he,  '  shall 
the  members  of  Christ  suffer  in  other  countries,  and  we  profess 
ourselves  to  be  living  members,  and  yet  not  sympathize  with  theTn  ? 
We  must  be  conformable  to  our  Head,  before  we  can  come  to 
heaven.'  *  What  a  pass  things  had  reached,  when  those  in  autho- 
rity would  have  shut  even  the  hand  of  private  charity  against  such 
sufferers  !  It  is  impossible  to  restrain  indignation  when  reading 
of  James's  more  than  poltroonly,  more  than  mean,  desertion  of 
his  own  '  flesh  and  blood,'  not  to  speak  of  Protestantism  ;  but 
doubly  base  was  Laud's  interference  to  stamp  out  as  a  pestilent 
thing,  this  little  effort  to  relieve  '  godly  preachers  and  private 
persons.'  It  only  added  to  that  thunder-cloud,  which  in  a  few 
years  was  to  launch  its  lightnings  on  his  own  head,  and  whose 
preluding  shadows  were  even  now  darkening  the  sky :  such  retribu- 
tion as  comes 

*  "When  the  quick  darting  lightning's  flash 
Is  the  clear  glitter  of  His  golden  spear.' f 


•  •  SoTil's  Conflict.'  I  Cecil  and  Mary,  by  Jackson,  p.  19  (1858.) 


a  MKMOIB  OF  BICHABD  SIBBES,  D.D. 

CHAPTER  VIIL 

SIBBES  AND  LAUD  AGAIN — '  THE  IMPROPRIATION  FEOFEES.* 

The  Preacher  of  Gray's  Inn  under  surveillance — Controversy  not  sought  by  Sibbes 
— Loyal  to  Church  and  State — The  Puritans  no '  Schismatics  ' — Witness-bearing 
— Wonder  and  yet  no  Wonder — Laud's  '  Beauty  of  Holiness  ' — '  Solemnity  ' — 
Persecution—'  Silencing' — William  Prynne — Puritan  Literature — Laudian- 
Bishop's  Literature — Sibbes  against  Popery — Lord  Keeper  Finch— The  '  Im- 
propriation '  Scheme — Sibbes  a  '  Feoffee  ' — Checks  upon  Laud — '  Overthrow  ' 
of  '  Feoffees  ' — Confiscation — Banishment — Verdict  upon  Laud. 

The  Star  Chamber  citation,  because  of  The  Palatinate,  with  its 
result — a  severe  reprimand,  and  treatment  as  of  '  notorious  delin- 
quents,'— was  only  a  slighter  issue  of  that  unsleeping  and  venge- 
ful resolution  to  suppress  all  Puritanism,  which  through  upwards 
of  a  quarter  of  a  century.  Laud  had  planned.  Accordingly,  though 
defeated  in  the  matter  of  the  Palatinate,  in  so  far  as  'silencing' 
Sibbes  and  his  compeers  was  concerned,  they,  in  common  with  all 
the  *  good  men  and  true '  of  the  period — for  really  it  appears  that 
every  man  of  note  in  his  day,  who  was  not  his  creature,  was 
the  object  of  his  annoyance — were  watched*  Nor  is  it  at  all  diffi- 
cult to  understand,  that  such  preaching  as  was  being  heard  from 
Sunday  to  Sunday  at  '  Gray's  Inn,'  and  down  in  Cambridge,  and 
by  crowds  in  St  Mary's,  when  reported  to  him,  as  everything  was 
reported — must  have  been  superlatively  offensive.  We  do  not  find 
Sibbes  mixed  up  with  the  controversies  of  the  day.  There  is  in  his 
works  a  noteworthy  absence  of  those  fires  of  intolerant  passion  that 
burn  so  fiercely  in  many  of  the  writings  and  actings  of  his  contempo- 
raries. Never  once  do  we  meet  with  him  in  the  ante-chamber  of 
*  the  Court,'  or  mingling  with  the  venal  crowcs  that  in  unholy  rivalry 
bade  high  and  higher,  or  more  properly  low  and  lower,  for  place, 
seeking  to  cover  their '  multitude  of  sins,'  not  with  charity,  but  lawn 
sleeves.  He  lived  serenely  apart  from  the  miserable  squabbling 
and  personal  resentments,  and  exacerbations  of  the  semi-political, 
semi-theological  polemics  that  agitated  state  and  church.  He  was 
loyal,  even  tenderly  charitable  to  those  in  authority  ;  and  true  to 
the  church,  if  only  the  church  would  be  true  to  him,  by  being 
true  to  its  Head.  Let  us  hear  what  he  was  saying  about  both  in 
those  days.  Of  the  State  he  thus  speaks  : — '  Sometimes  it  faUeth 
out  that  those  that  are  under  the  government  of  others  are  most 

*  '  Watched.'  Scattered  up  and  down  Sibbes's  writings  are  various  indications  of 
his  knowledge  of  this  espionage,  e.  g.,  '  So  in  coming  to  hear  the  word  of  God, 
some  come  to  observe  the  elegancy  of  words  and  phrases,  some  to  catch  advantage, 
perhaps,  against  the  speaker,  men  of  a  devilish  temper.' — ('  Bowels  Opened,'  pp.  130-31.) 


MEMOIB  OF  BICHABD  SIBBES,  D.D.  M 

injurious,  by  wajrwardness  and  harsh  censures,  herein  disparaging 
and  discouraging  the  endeavours  of  superiors  for  public  good.  In 
so  great  weakness  of  man's  nature,  and  especially  in  this  crazy  age 
of  the  world,  we  ought  to  take  in  good  part  any  moderate  hap- 
piness we  enjoy  by  government ;  and  not  be  altogether  as  a  nail 
in  the  wound,  exasperating  things  by  misconstruction.  Here  love 
should  have  a  m,antle  to  cast  upon  the  lesser  errors  of  those  above 
us.  Oftentimes  the  poor  man  is  the  oppressor  by  unjust  clamours. 
We  should  labour  to  give  the  best  interpretation  to  the  actions  of 
governors  that  the  nature  of  the  actions  will  possibly  bear.'  *  Simi- 
lar sentiments  abound.  Of  the  Church  we  have  many  wise  and 
considerate  words.  He  had  no  wish  for  separation  :  none  of  the 
Puritans  had,  until  they  were  driven  to  it.  So  far  from  seeking 
to  divide  'the  church'  and  injure  it — the  refrain  of  many  an 
accusation — Sibbes  has  sarcasms  that  perhaps  might  have  been 
spared,  against  those  who  even  then  felt  they  could  not  remain 
within  her  pale.  '  Fractions,'  he  says,  with  an  approach  to  un- 
kindness  very  unusual  with  him,  'always  breed  factions.'  He 
could  not  mean  it ;  but  this  was  capable  of  being  turned  by 
Laud  to  his  own  account.  He  was  quick  as  a  sleuth-hound  to 
discern  taint  of  treason.  But  we  have  more  full  and  explicit  state- 
ments. Thus  with  more  than  ordinary  vehemence  he  expostulates, 
accuses  : — '  What  a  joyful  spectacle  is  this  to  Satan  and  his  faction, 
to  see  those  that  are  separated  from  the  world  fall  m  pieces  among 
themselves  !  Our  discord  is  our  enemy's  melody.  The  more  to 
blame  those  that  for  private  aims  affect  differences  from  others, 
and  will  not  suffer  the  wounds  of  the  church  to  close  and  meet 
together.'^ 

Was  this  man,  so  truly  a  man  of  peace,  one  to  track  and  keep 
under  surveillance,  as  though  he  had  been  at  once  traitor  and 
fanatic  ?  Whence  came  it  ?  The  answer  is  too  easy.  Though  *  slow 
to  speak,'  and  sweet-natured  to  a  fault,  he  was  fearless  when  the 
occasion  demanded  it.  J     Even  immediately  on  saying  the  above, 

*  Bruised  Reed,  c.  xvii.  t  Bruised  Keed,  c.  xvii. 

X  '  Sweet-natured  to  a  fault.'  Brook  ('  Lives  of  the  Puritans,'  ii.  419)  remarks : 
•  This  reverend  divine  was  eminently  distinguished  for  a  meek  and  quiet  spirit, 
being  always  unwilling  to  offend  those  in  power.'  This  is  too  general,  for  however 
gentle,  Sihbes,  when  roused,  spoke  out  with  no  thought  of  who  might  be,  or 
might  not  be,  offended.  For,  says  he,  *  It  argues  a  base  disposition,  either  for 
frown  or  favour,  to  desert  a  good  cause  in  evil  times '  ('  Bowels  Opened,'  1st  edition, 
1639,  4to,  p.  45).  Brook  continues,  from  Calamy  (Calamy's  Account,  vol.  ii.  pp. 
605,  606) :  '  This  trait  in  his  character  will  appear  from  the  following  anecdote : 
— A  fellowship  being  vacant  in  Magdalen  College,  for  which  Archbishop  Laud 
recommended  his  bell-ringer  at  Lambeth,  with  an  ardent  design  of  quarrelling  with 


Irii  MEMOIR  OF  RICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D. 

he  takes  care  to  guard  himself  from  misconstruction,  by  adding  : — 
'  Which  must  not  be  understood,  as  if  men  should  dissemble  their 
judgment  in  any  truth  where  there  is  just  cause  of  expressing  them- 
selves ;  for  the  least  truth  is  Christ's,  and  not  ours  :  and  therefore 
we  are  not  to  take  liberty  to  affirm  or  deny  at  our  pleasure.  There 
is  a  due  in  a  penny,  as  well  as  in  a  pound  ;  therefore  we  must  he 
faithful  in  the  least  truth,  when  season  calleth  for  it'  But 
again,  so  gentle  and  unpolemic  was  he,  he  continues  finely  : — '  But 
in  some  cases  peace,  by  keeping  our  faith  to  ourselves,  Rom.  xiv. 
22,  is  of  more  consequence  than  the  open  discovery  of  some  things 
we  take  to  be  true  :  considering  the  weakness  of  man's  nature  is 
such,  that  there  can  hardly  be  a  discovery  of  any  difference  in 
opinion,  without  some  estrangement  of  affection.  So  far  as  men 
are  not  of  one  mind,  they  will  hardly  be  of  one  heart,  except  where 
grace  and  the  peace  of  God,  Col.  iii.  15,  bear  great  rule  in  the  heart. 
Therefore,  open  show  of  difference  is  never  good  but  when  it  is 
necessary  ;  however  some,  from  a  desire  to  be  somebody,  turn  into 
by-ways,  and  yield  to  a  spirit  of  contradiction  in  themselves.'* 
And  then,  Leighton-hke,  he  turns  away  from  the  distractions 
around  him,  and  thinks  of  the  '  rest  that  remains.'  '  Our  blessed 
Saviour,  when  he  was  to  leave  the  world,  what  doth  he  press  upon 
his  disciples  more  than  peace  and  love  ?  And  in  his  last  prayer, 
with  what  earnestness  did  he  beg  of  his  Father  that  they  might  be 
one,  as  he  and  the  Father  were  one  !  John  xvii.  21.  But  what  he 
prayed  for  on  earth,  we  shall  only  enjoy  perfectly  in  heaven.  Let 
this  m^ake  the  meditation  of  that  time  the  more  sweet  to  us.'f 

Even  so — 

'  Search  well  another  world ;  who  studies  this, 
Travels  in  clouds  ;  seeks  manna  where  none  is.'  X 

One  wonders,  and  yet  does  not  wonder,  how  such  a  peaceable 
and  loveable  man  came  to  be  thus  harassed.  But  what  has  the 
dove  done  to  make  the  serpent  strike  its  fang  into  it  ?     Simply 

them  if  they  refused,  or  of  putting  a  spy  upon  them  if  they  accepted,  Dr  Sihbes,  who 
was  ever  unwilling  to  provoke  his  superiors,  told  the  fellows  that  Lambeth-house 
would  be  obeyed ;  and  that  the  person  was  young,  and  might  in  time  prove  hopeful. 
The  fellows  therefore  consented,  and  the  man  was  admitted.'  This  '  anecdote ' 
carries  improbability  in  the  face  of  it,  and  neither  Calamy  nor  Brook  adduce  any 
authority.  Sibbes  could  have  no  voice  in  '  Magdalen,'  in  the  election  or  rejection  of 
a  '  fellow.'  Nor  is  there  the  slightest  memorial  of  such  an  appointment  as  is  stated. 
Surely  if  it  had  been  made,  name  and  date  would  have  been  notorious.  Amid  the 
many  charges  against  Laud,  this  has  no  place  either  in  Prynne  or  elsewhere. 
Calamy  is  not  guilty,  ordinarily,  of  introducing  mere  idle  gossip,  but  it  would  seem 
that  in  the  present  instance  he  has. 

*  and  t  Bruised  Keed,  c.  xvii. 

X  Henry  Vaughan,  Silex  Scintillans.    Edition  by  Lyte,  1847,  page  17.  ' 


MEMOIK  OF  EICHAED  SIBBES,  D.D.  IxJiJ 

crossed  its  path.  What  the  lamb,  to  cause  the  wolf  to  take  it  by 
the  throat  ?  Again,  simply  crossed  its  path.  Sibbes  had  donr- 
that  with  Laud.  While  the  king,  under  his  mitred  councillor'u 
tuition,  was  straining  every  nerve  to  un-Sabbath  Sunday,  Sibbeii 
and  his  co-Puritans  held  fast  its  inviolable  authority.  While 
proclamations,  unsanctioned  by  Parliament,  were  issued  to  sub- 
stitute the  May-pole  for  the  Cross,  the  Book  of  Sports  for  the  Book 
of  God,  and  the  village  green  for  the  sanctuary,  Sibbes  held  up  the 
cross  and  summoned  the  people  to  the  sanctuary.  While  all  doc- 
trinal preaching,  all  declarations  of  the  grace  of  God  in  Jesus  Christ, 
was  sought  to  be  put  down  (precursor  of  the  infamous  'Directions'), 
Sibbes  avouched  his  Calvinism,  and  spoke  with  no  bated  breath  of 
Arminianism.  While  churchmen  of  the  school  of  Laud  would 
have  men  regard  transubstantiation  as  a  '  school  nicety,'  bowing 
to  the  table  of  the  Lord,  as  'becoming  reverence^  images  in  churches 
worthy  '  commemoration,'  sacerdotal  absolution  and  confession  to  a 
priest  as  'proper  things'  the  Lord's  Supper  not  as  a  sacrament,  but  ae> 
a  sacrifice, — Sibbes  protested,  and  gave  them  their  proper  designa 
tion,  with  no  periphrasis  or  courtly  phrase,  of  papistical  innovation 
and  delusions  of  the  devil.  I  am  not  sure  that  I  would  make  aU 
his  and  the  Puritans'  side-thrusts  against  '  the  papist'  my  own.  I 
fear  I  cannot  acquit  either  them  or  him  of  '  upbraiding,'  and 
even  blameable  uncharity  for  the  men,  in  the  honesty  of  his 
indignation  against  their  doctrines  and  measures.  But  we  must 
not  forget  the  circumstances  of  '  the  time.'  He  was  old  enough 
to  remember  the  Armada,  sent  to  his  own  Suffolk  shore  under 
a  pope's  blessing,  and  a  '  bull '  being  nailed  to  the  palace-door 
with  a  pope's  ban.  He  was  cognizant  of  innumerable  plots,  not 
merely  against  our  religious,  but  also  our  civil,  liberties.  He 
heard  claims  asserted,  not  for  equality,  but  supremacy.  And 
then  there  were  those  high  in  authority,  coquetting  with  that 
popery  that  had  incarnadined  England  with  her  best  blood, 
and  had  been  got  rid  of  at  a  cost  inestimable.  He  could  not 
but  speak,  and,  speaking  as  a  patriot  and  Protestant,  it  was  not 
easy  to  'prophesy  smooth  things.'  Perhaps  Laud  would  have 
endured  Sibbes's  bold  and  passionate  rebuke  of  the  prevailing 
sins  of  the  age,  and  even,  however  galled,  have  "v\anked  at  his  full 
and  fervid  assertions  of  the  principles  of  the  reformation  from 
popery,  and  clear  and  articulate  condemnation  of  Arminianism, 
had  he  gone  no  further.  But  words  were  not  only  to  be  answered 
with  words,  be  it  granted  unadvised  words,  with  occasional  kindredly 
unadvised  words.  Action  was  to  be  met  with  action,  if  '  the 
church  '  were  not  to  be  only  a  masked  re-establishment  of  popery, 


LriV  MEMOIR  OF  RICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D. 

and  if  the  Calvinism  of  its  fathers  were  not  to  degenerate  into 
uZ^ra-Arminianism  ;  and  it  was  done,  as  we  shall  see.  Peter  Heylin 
was  now  at  the  ear  of  Laud  ;  and  Hacket  observes,  that  *  they 
that  watched  the  increase  of  Arminianism,  said,  confidently,  that 
it  was  from  the  year  1628  that  the  tide  of  it  began  to  come  in  , 
and  this  because  it  was  from  that  year  that  '  all  the  preferments 
were  cast  on  one  side.'  *  Similar  is  the  testimony  concerning  the 
favour  shewn  to  popery.  Thus  opposing  Laud  in  his  two  darling 
objects,  it  is  easy  to  foresee  that  one  like  Sibbes,  resident  in 
London,'  could  not  fail  to  come  into  conflict  with  the  vigilant 
and  suspicious  head  of  the  church.  Nor  are  we  to  suppose 
that,  if  he  was  watched  by  Lambeth's  police,  Lambeth  went 
unwatched.  How  far  the  primate  was  going  in  his  'papisti- 
cal tendencies,'  may  be  gathered  from  one  notorious  exhibition. 
Besides  its  bearing  on  the  persecution  springing  out  of  the  im- 
propriation scheme,  it  gives  point  to  a  suggestive  hit  by  Sibbes, 
which  was  probably  the  thing  that  stung  Laud  to  further  action 
against  him  and  his  coadjutors  in  another  blessed  work.  I  there- 
fore give  the  record  of  it  from  the  admittedly  authoritative 
pages  of  Eushworth  and  Wharton,  in  extenso : — On  Sunday  the 
16th  of  January  1630-1,  a  new  church — St  Catherine  Creed — in 
Leadenhall  Street,  was  consecrated.  It  had  been  re-built,  and  had 
been  suspended  by  the  primate  from  all  divine  service,  sermons  or 
sacraments,  until  it  should  be  re-consecrated.  Laud  and  a  number 
of  his  clergy  came  in  the  morning  to  perform  the  ceremony.  Then 
as  strange  and  sad  a  '  performance '  as  ever  men  beheld  was  en- 
acted, regard  being  had  to  the  fact  that  the  performer  was  the 
Protestant  Primate  of  England  :— 

'  At  the  bishop's  approach  to  the  west  door,'  says  Eushworth,  *  some 
that  were  prepared  for  it  cried,  with  a  loud  voice,  "  Open,  open,  ye  ever- 
lasting doors,  that  the  king  of  glory  may  enter  in  ! "  and  presently  the 
doors  were  opened,  and  the  bishop,  with  some  doctors,  and  many  other 
principal  men,  went  in,  and  immediately,  falling  down  upon  his  knees, 
with  his  eyes  lifted  up,  and  his  arms  spread  abroad,  uttered  these  words  : 
"  This  place  is  holy  ;  the  ground  is  holy:  in  the  name  of  the  Father,  Son, 
and  Holy  Ghost,  I  pronounce  it  holy."  Then  he  took  up  some  of  the  dust, 
and  threw  it  up  into  the  air,  several  times,  in  his  going  up  towards  the 
chancel,  f  When  they  approached  near  to  the  rail  and  communion-table, 
the  bishop  bowed  towards  it  several  times  ;  and,  returning,  they  went 
round  the  church  in  procession,  saying  the  100th  Psalm,  and  after  that 
the  19th  Psalm,  and  then  said  a  form  of  prayer,  commenciog,  "Lord  Jesus 

*  Hacket  .  .  .  Life  of  Williams,  Lord  Keeper.    Pt.  ii.  p.  42  and  p.  82. 
t  Masson,  '  Life  of  Milton,'  i.  850,  adds  here  this  foot-note  : — This  was  sworn  to 
on  Laud's  trial  by  two  witnesses  ;  but  Laud  denies  it,  and  moreover,  says  that,  if  it 
had  been  true,  it  would  not  have  been  a  popish  ceremony,  as  the  Romish  pontifictd 
prescribes,  not  '  dust,'  but  '  ashes '  to  be  thrown  up  on  such  occasions. 


MEMOIB  OF  KICHAKD  SIBBES,  D.D.  IxY 

Christ,"  &c.,  and  concluding,  "  We  consecrate  this  church,  and  separate  it 
unto  thee,  as  holy  ground,  not  to  be  profaned  any  more  to  common  use." 
After  this,  the  bishop  being  near  the  communion-table,  and  taking  a  written 
book  in  his  hand  (a  copy,  as  was  afterwards  alleged,  of  a  form  in  the 
Eomish  pontifical,  but  according  to  Laud,  furnished  him  by  the  deceased 
Bishop  Andrewes),  pronounced  curses  upon  those  that  should  afterwards 
profane  that  holy  place  by  musters  of  soldiers,  or  keeping  profane  law- 
courts,  or  carrying  burdens  through  it ;  and  at  the  end  of  every  curse, 
bowed  towards  the  east,  and  said,  "Let  all  the  people  say.  Amen."  When 
the  curses  were  ended,  he  pronounced  a  number  of  blessings  upon  all  those 
that  had  any  hand  in  framing  and  building  of  that  sacred  and  beautiful 
church,  and  those  that  had  given,  or  should  hereafter  give,  any  chahces, 
plate,  ornaments,  or  utensils  ;  and  at  the  end  of  every  blessing,  he  bowed 
towards  the  east,  and  said,  "  Let  all  the  people  say,  Amen."  After  this 
followed  the  sermon,  which  being  ended,  the  bishop  consecrated  and  ad- 
ministered the  sacrament  in  manner  following : — As  he  approached  the 
communion-table,  he  made  several  lowly  bowings  ;  and  coming  up  to  the 
side  of  the  table,  where  the  bread  and  wine  were  covered,  he  bowed  seven 
times  ;  and  then,  after  the  reading  of  many  prayers,  he  came  near  the 
bread,  and  gently  hfted  up  a  comer  of  the  napkin  wherein  the  bread  was 
laid ;  and  when  he  beheld  the  bread,  he  laid  it  down  again,  flew  back  a 
step  or  two,  bowed  three  several  times  towards  it,  then  he  drew  near  again, 
and  opened  the  napkin,  and  bowed  as  before.  Then  he  laid  his  hand  on 
the  cup,  which  was  full  of  wine,  with  a  cover  upon  it,  which  he  let  go 
again,  went  back,  and  bowed  thrice  towards  it ;  then  he  came  near  again, 
and  lifting  up  the  cover  of  the  cup,  looked  into  it,  and  seeing  the  wine,  let 
fall  the  cover  again,  retired  back,  and  bowed  as  before.  Then  he  received 
the  sacrament,  and  gave  it  to  some  principal  men  ;  after  which,  many 
prayers  being  said,  the  solemnity  of  the  consecration  ended.' 

That  was  the  sort  of  thing  that  the  primate  and  his  like-minded 
bishops,  sought  to  impose  on  men  as  'solemnity  !'  That  'mounte- 
bank holiness'  (it  is  Sir  Philip  Sidney's  word  of  scorn)  was  to  be 
its  translation  of  the  grand  old  '  Beauty  of  Holiness,'  (1  Chron. 
xvi.  29 ;  Ps.  xxix.  2,  and  xcvi.  9).*     It  is  no  light  occasion  that 

*  '  Beauty  of  holiness.'  The  vehement  words  of  John  Milton,  stern  as  Jeremiah. 
a  few  year  later,  are  memorable,  and  may  not  be  passed  by  : — '  Now  for  their  de- 
meanour within  the  church,  how  have  they  disfigur'd  and  defac't  that  more  than 
angelick  brightnes,  the  unclouded  serenity  of  Christian  religion,  with  the  dark  over- 
casting of  superstitious  coaps  and  flaminical  vestures.  .  .  .  Tell  me.  ye  priests,  where- 
fore this  gold,  wherefore  these  roabs  and  surplices,  over  the  gospel  ?  Is  our  religion 
guilty  of  the  first  trespasse,  and  hath  need  of  cloathing  to  cover  her  nakednesse  ? 
What  does  this  else  but  cast  an  ignominey  upon  the  perfection  of  Christ's  ministery 
by  seeking  to  adorn  it  with  that  which  was  the  poor  remedy  of  our  shame  ?  Believe 
it,  wondrous  doctors,  all  corporeal  resemblances  of  inward  holinesse  and  beauty  are  now 
past:  (The  Reason  of  Church  Government,  B.  II.  ch.  ii.  p.  154.  Mitford's  Milton. 
Prose  "Works,  vol.  i.  Pickering.)  Elsewhere,  denouncing  the  '  chaff  of  over-dated 
ceremonies,'  he  thus  describes  the  Laudian  'prelaty :' — 'They  began  to  draw  down 
all  the  divine  intercourse  betwixt  God  and  the  soul,  yea,  the  very  shape  of  God 
himself,  into  an  exterior  and  bodily  form,  urgently  pretending  a  necessity  and 
obligement  of  joining  the  body  in  a  formal  reverence  and  worship  circumscribed : 
they  hallowed  it,  they  fumed  it,  they  sprinkled  it,  they  bedecked  it,  not  in  robes  of 


kvi  MEMOIR  OF  RICHABD  SIBBES,  D.D. 

calls  for  one's  judgment  of  another  in  so  awful  and  sacred  a 
thing  as  his  religion,  however  it  may  be  darkened  by  super- 
stition, or  lightened  by  the  fires  of  the  wildest  fanaticism.  De- 
plorable, therefore,  as  this  mummery  may  be  to  us,  we  may  not 
pronounce  that  it  was  an  unreal,  much  less  that  it  was  a 
farcical  thing  to  its  chief  actor.  Such  a  soul  as  his,  so  small, 
80  narrow,  may  have  found  channel  deep  enough  for  its  reve- 
rence in  such  return  upon  an  effete  ritualism.  We  may 
agree  with  Macaulay's  epithet  of  '  imbecile,'  but  not  with  the 
Puritan's  angry  charge  of  'hypocrite.'  But  when  one  realises 
that  prison,  fine,  the  knife,  the  shears,  persecution  to  the  death, 
were  the  award  of  every  honest  soul  that  refused  to  regard  as 
the  'Beauty  of  Holiness'  such  exaggerations  of  even  popery,  it  is 
hard  to  withhold  an  anathema,  ringing  as  Paul's,  on  the  memory 
of  him  who  devised,  and  of  the  craven  bishops  who  cravenly 
enforced  them.  There  the  spider-soul  sat,  in  its  craft,  spreading 
out  its  net-work  over  broad  England,  and  by  its  Harsnets  and 
Curies,  Mountagus  and  Buckridges,  Bancrofts  and  Wrens,  and  Main- 
warings,  united  in  a  brotherhood  of  evil,  sought  to  entrap  all  who 
held  to  the  divine  simplicity  of  the  New  Testament.  The  secret 
threads,  revealed  by  the  tears  of  the  persecuted,  as  by  the  morning 
dew  is  revealed  the  drop-spangled  and  else  concealed  web  of  the 
open-air  spider,  thrilled  news  up  to  the  hand  that  grasped  all,  and 
forth  the  fiat  went.  '  Within  a  single  year,  at  this  period,'  says 
Neal,  '  many  lecturers  were  put  down,  and  such  as  preached  against 
Arminianism  or  the  new  ceremonies  were  suspended  and  silenced, 
among  whom  were  the  Rev.  Mr  John  Rogers  of  Dedham,  Mr  Daniel 
Rogers  of  Wethersfield,  Mr  Hooker  of  Chelmsford,  Mr  White  of 
Knightsbridge,  Mr  Archer,  Mr  William  Martin,  Mr  Edwards,  Mr 
Jones,  Mr  Dod,  Mr  Hildersam,  Mr  Ward,  Mr  Saunders,  Mr  James 
Gardiner,  Mr  Foxley,  and  many  others.'  * 

We  have  the  burning  words  of  Prynne,  that  at  a  '  later  day,'  in 
the  day  of  his  humiliation,  the  primate  had  to  meet.  Thus  forcibly 
is  the  charge  put — nor  was  it  ever  touched : — 

'  As  he  thus  preferred  Popish  and  Armiriian  clergymen  to  the  chief  eccle- 

pure  innocency,  but  of  pure  linen,  with  other  deformed  and  fantastic  dresses,  in 
palls  and  mitres,  gold  and  gewgaws,  fetched  from  Aaron's  old  wardrobe  or  the 
flamen's  vestry ;  then  was  the  priest  sent  to  con  his  motions  and  his  postures,  his 
liturgies  and  lurries,  till  the  soul,  by  this  means  of  overbodying  herself,  given  up  to 
fleshly  delights,  bated  her  wing  apace  downwards.'  In  our  own  day,  one  has  cha- 
racterised the  same  phenomenon,  as  presented  by  Tractarianism,  which,  indeed,  was 
the  harvest  of  the  baleful  seed  sown  by  Laud,  as  '  a  thing  of  flexions  and  genuflexions, 
postures  and  impostures,  with  a  dash  of  man  millinery.' 

*  Hist,  of  Puritans,  Vol.  i.  p.  589,  &c.  (ed.,  3  vols.  8vo,  1837.) 


MEMOIR  OF  RICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D.  Ixvii 

slastical  preferments  in  our  churcla,  so,  on  the  contrary,  (following  the 
counsel  of  Cautzen,  the  Mogonutive  Jesuit,  in  his  politics,  see  '  Look  about 
you'),  he  discountenanced,  suspended,  silenced,  suppressed,  censured, 
imprisoned,  persecuted  most  of  the  prime,  orthodox,  dihgent  preaching 
ministers  of  the  realm,  and  forced  many  of  them  to  fly  into  America,  Hol- 
land, and  other  foi'eign  places,  to  avoid  his  fury,  only  for  opposing  his 
popish  innovations,  and  expressing  their  fears  of  the  change  of  our  religion. 
Not  to  trouble  you  with  any  forementioned  instances  of  Mr  Peter  Smart, 
Mr  Henry  Burton,  Mr  Snelling,  and  others,  we  shall  instance  in  some 

fresh  examples '     Mr  Samuel  Ward's  case,  and  Mr  Chauncy's  case, 

are  then  narrated.  'To  these  we  could  add,'  he  proceeds,  'Mr  Cotton, 
Mr  Hooker,  ]Mr  Davenport,  Mr  Wells,  Mr  Peters,  Mr  Glover,  and  sundry 
other  ministers,  driven  into  New  England  and  other  plantations.'  And 
then  '  Dr  Stoughton,  Dr  Sibbes,  Dr  Taylor,  Dr  Gouge,  Mr  White  of  Dor- 
chester, Mr  Kogers  of  Dedham,  with  sundry  more  of  our  most  eminent 
preaching,  orthodox  divines,  were  brought  into  the  High  Commission,  and 
troubled  or  silenced  for  a  time  by  his  procurement  upon  frivolous  pre- 
tences, but  in  truth  because  they  were  principal  props  of  our  Protestant 
religion  against  his  Popish  and  Arminian  innovations.'* 

Now,  we  have  the  actual  books  containing  the  actual  preach- 
ing of  these  men,  and  the  numerous  others  who  shared  their  per- 
secution. They  are  in  our  Kbraries ;  and  he  must  be  either  a  bold 
or  a  very  foolish  man,  not  only  rash,  but  reckless,  who  gainsays 
that,  re'move  these  books  from  the  Christian  literature  of  the  period 
and  you  remove  the  very  life-blood  of  that  literature. 

The  most  recent,  truthful,  and  catholic  of  '  the  church'  histo- 
rians, Mr  Perry,t  admits  that  all  the  practical  writers  of  the  age  were 
of  the  puritans  and  sufferers  for  nonconformity ;  and  he  names  a 
few,  Willet  and  Dyke,  Preston  and  By  field,  Bolton  and  Hildersam, 
and  Sibbes.  '  This  fact,'  he  candidly  observes,  '  must  needs  have 
told  with  extreme  force  against  the  interests  of  the  church.  It  was 
doubtless  alleged  that  the  church  divines  could  only  speak  when 
their  position  or  their  order  was  menaced,  but  in  the  face  of  the  great 
and  crying  sins  and  scandals  of  the  age  they  were  dumb  and  tongue- 
tied  ;'  and  he  might  have  added,  in  view  also  of  the  gross  ignorance 
and  darkness  in  which  whole  districts  of  the  country  were  shrouded. 

I  should  make  larger  reservation  or  exceptions  in  favour  of  'church' 
writers  than  Mr  Perry  does  ;  for  I  find  in  Thomas  Adams  and 
Anthony  Farindon,  and  others,  whom  I  love  equally  with  the  fore- 
most of  the  puritans,  the  same  preaching  with  theirs.  Still  it  re- 
mains that  the  men  whom  Laud  delighted  to  honour  were  the  men 
who  were  vehement  enough  to  bring  men  to  '  the  church,'  but  not 
at  all  concerned  about  bringing  them  to  Christ ;  ready  to  dispense 

*  '  Canterburie's  Doom,'  pp.  362,  seq.     1646,  folio. 

t  The  History  of  the  Church  of  England  from  the  death  of  Elizabeth  to  the  pre- 
sent time.  By  the  Rev.  G.  G.  Perry,  M  A ..  Rector  of  Waddington.  Vol.  I.  1861. 
^Saunders.  Otley,  &  Co.)     See  C.  ix.  p.  326. 

vox,.  I.  e 


Ixviii  MEMOIR  OF  EICHAKD  SIBBES,  D.D. 

the  sacraments,  but  oblivious  of  their  antitype ;  swift  to  jangle  in 
hot  controversies  on  '  super-elementation,'  but  cold  about  the  one 
transcendent  change  ;  reverers  of  the  altar,  but  despisers  of  the 
cross.  We  have  defences  of  the  church,  its  tithes  and  dignities, 
its  upholstery  and  repairs,  ad  nauseayyi.  We  have  the  primate 
himself  fervid  about  his  genu-flexions  and  reverence  to  the 
Thame  of  Christ,  and  the  name  only ;  and  a  Mountagu,  ribald  as 
Billingsgate  against  holy  Samuel  Ward.  They  were,  as  was 
jested  of  a  modern  Lord  Chancellor,  buttresses  rather  than  pillars 
of  '  the  church.'  We  look  in  vain  all  through  the  extant  writings 
of  the  bishops  named,  from  Laud  downward,  for  anything  ap- 
proaching one  earnest,  heartfelt  utterance  as  from  a  servant  of 
Jesus  Christ  to  perishing  sinners,  one  living  word  to  men  as  '  under 
wrath,'  nay,  for  one  flash  of  genius,  one  gush  of  human  feeling.  They 
had  no  answer  for  the  'Anxious  Inquirer'  as  he  cried — 
'  I  am  a  sinner,  full  of  doubts  and  fears. 
Make  me  a  humble  thing  of  love  and  tears.'  * 

There  exists  not  a  more  meagre,  inane,  contemptible  literature, 
taken  as  a  whole,  than  that  composed  of  the  Laudian  books  pro- 
per;  for  it  were  a  historic  blunder,  as  well  as  a  slander,  to  include 
Hall  or  Ussher  or  Bedell  or  Davenant  among  them,  from  the  mere 
accident  of  their  first  appointment,  more  or  less,  coming  from  Laud. 
Yet  we  must  believe  that  what  they  printed  and  gave  to  the  world 
was  their  best,  and  at  least  was  the  preaching  their  auditories  heard. 
On  the  other  hand,  it  equally  remains  unchallengeable  that  the 
men  whom  Laud  delighted  to  persecute  were  the  only  men  then 
in  England  who  were  really  discharging,  in  the  fear  of  God,  their 
office  of  preachers  of  the  gospel,  men,  at  the  same  time,  of  gener- 
ous loyalty,  and  lovers,  with  the  deepest  affection,  of  that  reformed 
church  from  which  they  were  driven  in  1662. 

Such  having  been  the  state  of  things,  it  is  only  what  we  should 
expect,  to  find  even  the  unpolemic  and  gentle  Sibbes  speaking 
out  against  the  doings  and  tendencies  of  the  men  in  authority. 
There  is  a  time  to  be  silent,  and  a  time  to  speak.  Fealty  to 
truth  demanded  plain  words,  and  translating  of  words  into  acts. 
Nor  was  either  awanting.  For  words  take  these,  over  which  we 
can  conceive  even  the  rheumy  eyes  of  the  primate  flashing  fire. 
They  are  taken  from  sermons  preached  during  this  period,  and 
afterwards  fearlessly  published.  I  venture  to  italicise  some  few 
lines : — 

*  What  shall  we  think  them  to  be  of  that  take  advantages  of  the  bruised- 
ness  and  infirmities  of  men's  spirits  to  relieve  them  with  false  peace  for 

•  Hartley  Coleridge.     Poems,  ii.  p.  887  (edition  1851). 


MEMOIK  OF  RICHABD  SIBBES,  D.D.  Ixix 

their  own  worldly  ends  ?  A  woimded  spirit  will  part  with  anything.  Most 
of  the  gainful  points  of  popery,  as  confession,  satisfaction,  merit,  purga- 
tory, &c.,  spriug  from  hence,  but  they  are  physicians  of  no  value,  or  rather 
tormentors  than  physicians  at  all.  It  is  a  greater  blessing  to  he  delivered 
from  "  the  sting  of  these  scorpions"  than  we  are  thankful  for.  Spiritual 
tyranny  is  the  greatest  tyranny,  and  then  especially  when  it  is  where  most 
mercy  should  be  shewed ;  yet  even  there  some,  like  cruel  surgeons,  delight 
in  making  long  cures,  to  serve  themselves  upon  the  misery  of  others.  It 
bringeth  men  under  a  terrible  cm'se,  "  when  they  wiU  not  remember  to 
shew  mercy,  but  persecute  the  poor  and  needy  man,  that  they  might  even 
slay  the  broken  in  heart,"  Ps.  cix.  16. 

'  Likewise,  to  such  as  raise  temporal  advantage  to  themselves  out  of  the 
spiritual  misery  of  others,  join  such  as  raise  estates  by  betraying  the  chui'ch, 
atid  are  unfaithful  in  the  trust  committed  unto  them,  when  the   childeen 

SHALL  CRY  FOR   THE    BREAD    OF    LIFE,  AND    THERE    IS    NONE    TO    GIVE    THEM, 

bringing  thus  upon  the  people  of  God  that  heavy  judgment  of  a  spiritual  famine, 
starving  Christ  in  his  members.  Shall  we  so  requite  so  good  a  Sa'vaour, 
who  counteth  the  love  and  mercy  shewed  in  "  feeding  bis  lambs,"  John 
xxi.  15,  as  shewed  to  himself? 

'  Last  of  aU,  they  carry  themselves  very  unkindly  towards  Christ,  who 
stumble  at  this  his  low  stooping  unto  us  in  his  government  and  ordinances, 
that  are  ashamed  of  the  simplicity  of  the  gospel,  that  count  preaehiog  foolishness. 

'  They,  out  of  the  pride  of  their  heart,  think  they  may  do  weU  enough 
without  the  help  of  the  word  and  sacraments,  and  think  Christ  took  not 

STATE    ENOUGH    UPON    HIM,  AND    THEREFORE   THEY  WILL    MEND    THE    MATTER 

WITH  THEIR  OWN  DEVICES,  whcreby  they  may  give  the  better  content  to 
flesh  and  blood,  as  in  popery,'  * 

Elsewhere,  in  his  most  eloquent  sermon  entitled  '  The  Saint's 
Safety  in  Evil  Times,'  he  thus  fearlessly  speaks  : — 

*  I  beseech  you  consider,  what  hurt  have  we  ever  had  by  the  **  Eeforma- 
tion  "  of  rehgion  ?  Hath  it  come  naked  unto  us  ?  Hath  it  not  been 
attended  with  peace  and  prosperity?  Hath  God  been  "  a  barren  wilder- 
ness to  us?"  Jer.  ii.  31.  Hath  not  God  been  a  wall  of  fire  about  us? 
which  if  he  had  not  been,  it  is  not  the  water  that  compasseth  our  island 
could  have  kept  us.f 

Once  more,  in  the  '  Ungodly 's  Misery,'  also  '  preached  '  at  this 
period,  we  have  these  plain-spoken  words : — 

*  "What  is  the  gospel  but  salvation  and  redemption  by  Christ  alone  ? 
Therefore,  Rome's  church  is  an  apostate  church,  and  may  weU  be  styled 
an  adulteress  and  a  whore,  because  she  is  fallen  from  her  husband  Christ 
Jesus.  And  what  may  we  think  of  those  that  would  bring  light  and  dark- 
ness, Christ  and  Antichrist,  the  ark  and  Dagon,  together,  that  would  re- 
concile us,  as  if  it  were  no  great  matter  ?'  | 

Still  again,  in  his  exceeding  precious  sermons  on  Canticles, 
he  strikes  high,  even  right  at  the  prelates,  on  their  neglect  of 
abounding  error : — 

*  Thus,'  says  he,  '  popery  grew  up  by  degrees,  till  it  overspread  tb** 

*  '  Bruised  Reed,'  page  78.  J  '  Ungodly's  Misery,'  p.  388. 

t  '  Saint's  Safety,'  page  312. 


Ixxii  MEMOIR  OF  RICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D. 

Huntingdon  (then  in  his  thirtieth  year),  stood  up  and  made  his  first 
speech,  a  fragment  of  which  has  found  its  way  into  history,  and  is 
now  known  to  all  mankind.  He  said  :  "  He  had  heard  by  relation 
from  one  Dr  Beard  (his  old  schoolmaster  at  Huntingdon)  that  Dr 
Alabaster  (prebendary  of  St  Paul's  and  rector  of  a  parish  in  Herts , 
had  preached  flat  popery  at  Paul's  Cross ;  and  that  the  Bishop 
of  Winchester  (Dr  Neile)  had  commanded  him,  as  his  diocesan,  he 
should  preach  nothing  to  the  contrary.  Main  waring,  so  justly  cen- 
sured in  this  House  for  his  sermons,  was,  by  the  same  bishop's 
means,  preferred  to  a  rich  living.  If  these  are  the  steps  to  church- 
preferment,  what  are  we  to  expect  ? "  '  *  We  shall  probably  not 
greatly  err  if  we  conclude  that  even  the  '  red  face'  of  Laud  blanched 
under  that  question  of  '  Mr  Cromwell,'  knowing  as  he  well  did  that 
the  facts  named  were  only  two  out  of  many,  and  knowing  also  the 

*  stuff '  of  which  the  men  were  made  who  were  upon  the  inquisition. 
Then  came  '  remonstrances  '  and  '  declarations  '  stronger  still,  and 
they  who  drew  them  up  meant  to  have  what  they  demanded. 
True,  the  chief  speakers  were  '  indicted  '  in  the  Star-Chamber,  and 
ultimately  sent  to  the  Tower,  '  Mr  Cromwell,'  and  '  Mr  Pym,'  and 

*  Mr  Hampden  '  alone  excepted  (marvellous  and  suggestive  excep- 
tions). There  lay  Denzil  Holies  and  Sir  John  Eliot,  John  Selden, 
Benjamin  Valentine,  and  William  Couton,  Sir  Miles  Hobart  and 
William  Longe,  William  Strode  and  Sir  Peter  Hayman.  For  eleven 
years  it  was  decreed  to  be  penal  so  much  as  to  speak  of  assembling 
another  Parliament.  There  were  '  wars  and  rumours  of  wars,'  too. 
Every  one  who  at  all  knows  the  time  can  see  that  a  constraint  which 
could  not  be  disregarded  was  put  upon  Laud  in  the  matter  of  his 
persecuting  for  religion.  He  durst  not  go  in  the  teeth  of  the  unmis- 
takeable  menaces  of  the  last  memorable  ParUament.  He  noted  down 
everything,  and  certainly  would  not  fail  to  note  down  what  Rous 
and  Pym,  Eliot  and  Selden,  had  said.  Let  us  hear  a  little  of  what 
was  said.  Francis  Rous,  trembling  like  an  old  Hebrew  prophet 
with  his  '  burden,'  had  denounced  that  '  error  of  Arminianism  which 
makes  the  grace  of  God  lackey  it  after  the  will  of  man,'  and  called 
on  the  House  to  postpone  questions  of  goods  and  liberties  to  this 
question,  which  concerned  '  eternal  life,  men's  souls,  yea,  God  him- 
self.' Sir  John  Eliot  repudiated  the  claim  that  '  the  bishops  and 
clergy  alone  should  interpret  church  doctrine  ;  and,  professing  his 
respect  for  some  bishops,  declared  that  there  were  others,  and  two 
especially,  from  whom  nothing  orthodox  could  come,  and  to  em- 
power whom  to  interpret  would  he  the  ruin  of  national  religion.* 
John  Selden,  grave  and  calm,  referred  to  individual  cases  in  which 

*  Cromwell's  Letters  and  Speeches,  8d  edition,  i.  29. 


MEMOIB  OF  BICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D.  Ixxiii 

Popish  and  Arminian  books  were  allowed,  while  Calvinistic  books 
were  restrained,  notwithstanding  that  there  was  no  law  in  England 
to  prevent  the  printing  of  any  books,  but  only  a  decree  in  Star- 
Chamber.'  And  then  on  one  occasion  the  whole  House  stood  up 
together,  and  vowed  a  vow  against '  innovations  in  the  faith.'  The 
issue  of  that,  passed  with  closed  doors,  and  with  clenching  of  teeth 
and  gripping  of  sword-hilts,  none  will  soon  forget.  We  have  to 
do  with  only  one  of  the  three  '  Resolutions  : — '  Whoever  shall 
bring  in  innovation  of  religion,  or  by  favour  or  countenance  seem 
to  extend  Popery  or  Aiminianism,  or  other  opinion  disagreeing 
from  the  true  and  orthodox  church,  shall  be  reputed  a  capital 
enemy  to  this  kingdom  and  commonwealth.'  * 

After  these  things  it  is  remarkable  that  the  king,  a  man  without 
mind,  and  Laud,  a  man  without  either  mind  or  heart,  should  at 
all  have  adventured  to  go  against  the  mind  and  heart  of  England. 
But  so  it  was.  There  was  of  necessity  greater  secrecy,  very  much  of 
covert  plotting  against  the  liberties,  civil  and  rehgious,  of  England. 
The  'feoffees'  at  last,  borne  with  involuntarily  from  1626,  were 
summoned  before  the  Star  Chamber  and  High  Commission  botk 
And  that  was  but  the  execution  of  Laud's  cherished  purpose  from 
the  beginning.  For  in  that  strangest  of  strange  'Diaries,'  the 
oddest  combination,  that  ever  has  been  written,  of  piety  and  gro- 
velUng  superstition,  of  faith  and  the  most  babyish  credulity,  (for 
Pepys'  is  wisdom  itself  in  comparison  f),  we  light  upon  this  entry  : — 

'  Things  which  I  have  projected  to  do,  if  God  bless  me  in  them — 
'  III.  To  overthrow  the  feoffment,  dangerous  both  to  Church  and  State, 
goiag  under  the  specious  pretence  of  buying  in  impropriations.' 

Opposite  these  words,  a  few  out  of  many  equally  deplorable, 
that  a  little  onward  came  to  be  to  their  writer  terrible  as  the 
mystic  '  handwriting '  of  Babylon's  palace-wall,  is  inscribed  '  DONE.' 
And  it  was  done — for  the  moment ;  but  it  was  a  tremendous  success 
to  its  doer.  If  only  Nemesis  had  been  touched  with  ruth  to  blot 
out  the  handwriting  !  But  no  !  There  the  entry  stood,  when  per- 
haps not  altogether  lawfully  or  honourably,  at  least  not  courteously, 
the  diary  was  seized  : — 

*  Consult  for  the  facts  introduced  Masson's  Life  of  Milton,  i.  181,  32Q,  seq. ;  Car- 
lyle's  '  Cromwell ; '  John  Forster's  '  Statesmen  of  the  Commonwealth,'  and  others  of 
his  historical  works  ahout  this  period. 

t  Pepys.  I  do  not  know  if  his  prescient  entry  in  favour  of  the  Puritans  has  heen 
remarked.     Having  witnessed  Ben  Jonson's  '  Bartholomew  Fair,'  he  jots  down, 

•  And  is  an  excellent  play ;  the  more  I  see  it  the  more  I  love  the  wit  of  it ;  only  the 
business  of  abusing  the  Puritans  begins  to  grow  stale,  and  of  no  use,  they  being  the 
people  that  at  last  will  be  found  the  wisest.'     See  Index  of  any  edition  of  '  Diary '  under 

*  Bartholomew  Fair.' 


Ixxiv  MEMOIR  OF  EIOHABD  SIBBES,  D.D. 

^Feb.  13.  1632. 

'  Wednesday. — The  feoffes  that  pretended  to  buy  in  impropriations  were 
dissolved  in  the  Chequer  Chamber.  They  were  the  main  instruments  for  the 
Puritan  faction  to  undo  the  Church.     The  criminal  part  reserved.'* 

Reserved  !     Ay,  and  transferred  ! 

Those  who  had  engaged  in  the  impropriation  scheme,  including 
Sibbes,  having  been  thus  summoned  before  the  Star-Chamber, 
were  dealt  with,  not  as  honourable  and  good  men,  but  as  '  crimi- 
nals and  traitors/  The  verdict  was — CONFISCATION  of  the  funds 
and  BANISHMENT  of  the  men  ! 

Some  fled  to  Holland,  some  to  New  England.f     Had  the  nation's 

*  Laud's  '  Works,'  vol.  iii.  p.  216,  217. 

t  Of  the  '  fugitives'  associated  with  Sibbes  in  the  '  feoffees'  scheme,  the  most 
eminent  was  John  Davenport.  In  Anderson's  Life  of  Lady  Mary  Vere,  in  '  Memor- 
able Women  of  Puritan  Times,'  some  very  touching  letters  of  his  are  given  from  the 
Brit.  Museum  MSS.  (Birch  4275,  No.  69).  Two  extracts  will  shew  the  anxiety  in 
which  these  godly  men  were  kept,  and  at  the  same  time  shew  how  far  they  were  from 
wishing  to  be  '  schismatics,'  or  in  any  way  to  injure  the  church.  First  of  all,  while  he 
and  Sibbes  and  others  were  under  the  ban  of  the  '  High  Commission'  as  mentioned 
above,  he  writes,  '  I  have  had  divers  purposes  of  writing  to  your  honour,  only  I  de- 
layed in  hope  to  write  somewhat  concerning  the  event  and  success  of  our  High  Com- 
mission troubles ;  but  I  have  hoped  in  vain,  for  to  this  day  we  are  in  the  same 
condition  as  before,  delayed  till  the  iinishing  of  the  session  in  Paliament,  which 
now  is  unhappily  concluded  without  any  satisfying  contentment  to  the  king  or 
commonwealth.  Threatening s  were  speedily  revived  against  us  by  the  new  Bishop  of 
London,  Dr  Laud,  even  the  next  day  after  the  conclusion  of  the  session.  We  now  expect 
a  fierce  storm  from  the  enraged  spirits  of  the  two  bishops ;  ours,  as  I  am  informed, 
hath  a  particular  aim  at  me  upon  a  former  quarrel,  so  that  I  expect  ere  long  to  be 
deprived  of  my  pastoral  charge  in  Coleman  Street.  But  I  am  in  God's  hand,  not 
in  theirs,  to  whose  good  pleasure  I  do  contentedly  and  cheerfully  submit  myself.' 

A  more  beautiful  charity,  or  more  modest  assertion  of  conscience,  than  in  our  next 
extract,  can  scarcely  be  imagined. 

'  Be  not  troubled,  much  less  discouraged,  good  madam,  at  any  rumours  you  meet 
with  concerning  my  present  way.     The  persecution  of  the  tongue  is  more  fierce  and 
terrible  than  that  of  the  hand.     At  this  time  I  have  some  of  both.  .....     The 

truth  is,  I  have  not  forsaken  my  ministry,  nor  resigned  up  my  place,  much  less  sepa- 
rated from  the  church,  but  am  only  absent  a  while  to  wait  upon  God,  upon  the  settling 
and  quieting  of  things,  for  light  to  discover  my  way,  being  willing  to  lie  and  die  in 
prison,  if  the  cause  may  be  advantaged  by  it,  but  choosing  rather  to  preserve  the 
liberty  of  my  person  and  ministry  for  the  service  of  the  church  elsewhere,  if  all  doors 

are  shut  against  me  here The  only  cause  of  all  my  present  sufferings  is  the 

alteration  of  my  judgment  in  matters  of  conformity  to  the  ceremonies  established, 
whereby  I  cannot  practise  them  as  formerly  I  have  done  ;  wherein  I  do  not  censura 
those  that  do  conform  {nay,  I  account  many  of  them  faithful  and  worthy  instruments  of 
God's  glory  ;  and  I  know  that  I  did  conform  with  as  much  inward  peace  as  now  I 
do  forbear  ;  in  both  my  uprightness  was  the  same,  but  my  light  different).     In  this 

action  I  walk  by  that  light  which  shineth  into  me With  much  advice  of 

many  ministers  of  eminent  note  and  worth,  I  have  done  all  that  I  have  done  hither- 
to, and  with  desire  of  pitching  upon  that  way  wherein  God  might  be  most  glorified. 
In  his  due  time  he  will  manifest  it.' 


MEMOIR  OF  RICHABD  SIBBES,  D.D.  IxXV 

tongue  not  been  cut  out — no  Parliament  sat  for  years  ! — there  had 
been  stormy  debates  on  that ! 

So  far  as  Sibbes  was  concerned,  it  does  not  appear  that  any 
part  of  the  sentence  was  ever  put  into  execution.  He  continued 
preacher  at  Gray's  Inn,  and  Master  of  Catharine  Hall.  This  assures 
us  that  powerful  friends,  the  Brooks  and  Veres,  Manchesters  and 
Warwicks,  must  have  stood  by  him.  But  there  was  no  compromise 
on  his  part.  I  find  that  almost  like  a  menace,  and  most  surely  a 
defiance,  Sibbes  introduced  into  a  sermon,  preached  immediately 
after  the  decision,  an  explicit  eulogy  of  Sherland,  the  recorder  of 
Northampton,  for  what  he  had  done  toward  the  impropriation 
scheme  ;  and  published  the  sermon.* 

Still  it  was  crushed,  the  '  monies '  confiscated,'  the  '  purchases ' 
reversed,  the  whole  holy  enterprise  branded,  and  its  agents  dis- 
graced. One  thing  is  to  be  recalled.  Among  the  'things  pro- 
jected,' Laud  enumerates,  with  imbecile  forgetfulness,  precisely 
such  a  scheme  of  purchase  of  'impropriations' — by  himself. t 
So  that  it  stands  confessed  that  not  the  thing  itself  was  dan- 
gerous and  illegal,  but  the  doers  of  it.  Let  only  him  and  his 
appoint  to  the  places,  and  all  was  well  and  right.  But  let  men 
such  as  Sibbes,  Gouge,  Taylor,  Davenport  in  the  Church,  and  the 
foremost  men  for  worth  in  the  State,  their  enemies  themselves 
being  witnesses,  be  the  appointors,  and  instantly  it  smells  of 
'treason,  stratagem,  wiles.'  These  or  those  dangerous  to  Church 
and  State  ?  What  is  the  award  of  posterity  ?  And  yet  defenders 
have  been  found  for  the  transparently  mendacious  and  infamous 
act.  Such  jeer  at  the  paltry  minority  of  Puritanism,  oblivious  of 
what  a  living  poet  has  finely  expressed — 

' '   Tou  trust  in  numbers,  I 

Trust  in  One  only.'  J 

Let  us  see  how  Laud  himself  met  it  when  it  came  in  awful  re- 
surrection back  upon  him.  Every  one  is  aware  that  the  suppres- 
sion of  the  'feoffment-impropriation'  scheme  formed  one  of  the 
counts  in  the  great  roll  of  accusation,  whose  issue  was  the  block  on 
Tower  Hill.  A  careful  record  was  kept  of  charges  and  answers, 
and  the  whole  have  been  republished  in  the  Works  of  Laud.  It 
is  but  fitting  that  what  he  had  to  say  should  appear.  Here,  then, 
are  '  charge '  and  '  defence.'  The  whole  case,  so  vital  as  between 
Laud  and  the  Puritan  worthies,  among  whom  Richard  Sibbes  was 
prominent,  can  then  be  judged  of : — 

*  See  '  Christ  is  Best,'  in  the  present  volume,  p.  349. 
t  See  the  whole  list  in  his  works,  as  after-referenced. 
J  Cecil  and  Mary,  as  ante,  p.  10. 


Ixxvi  MEMOIR  OF  RICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D. 

That  whereas  divers  gifts  and  dispositions  of  divers  sums  of  money  were  here- 
tofore made  by  divers  charitable  and  imll-disposed  persons,  for  the  buying  in 
of  divers  impropriations,  for  the  maintenance  of  preaching  the  word  of  God  in 
several  churches;  the  said  archbp).,  about  eight  years  last  past,  wilfully  and 
maliciously  caused  the  said  gifts,  feoffments,  and  conveyances,  made  to  the  uses 
aforesaid,  to  be  overthrown  in  his  majesty's  Court  of  Exchequer,  contrai-y  to 
law,  as  things  dangerous  to  the  Church  and  State,  under  the  specious  pretence  of 
buying  in  appropriations ;  whereby  that  pious  work  was  suppressed  and  trodden 
dotvn,  to  the  great  dishonour  of  God  and  scandal  of  religion. 

This  article  is  only  about  the  feoffments.  That  which  I  did  was  this  : 
I  was  (as  then  advised  upon  such  information  as  was  given  me)  clearly  of 
opinion,  that  this  was  a  cunning  way,  under  a  glorious  pretence,  to  over- 
throw the  church  government,  by  getting  into  their  power  more  dependency 
of  the  clergy  than  the  king,  and  all  the  peers,  and  all  the  bishops  in  all  the 
kingdom  had.  And  I  did  conceive  the  plot  the  more  dangerous  for  the 
fairness  of  the  pretence ;  and  that  to  the  State  as  well  as  the  Church. 
Hereupon,  not  "maliciously"  (as  'tis  charged  in  the  article),  but  con- 
scientiously, I  resolved  to  suppress  it,  if  by  law  it  might  be  done.  Upon 
this,  I  acquainted  his  majesty  with  the  thing,  and  the  danger  which  I  con- 
ceived would  in  few  years  spring  out  of  it.  The  king  referred  me  to  his 
attorney,  and  the  law.  Mr  Attorney  Noye,  after  some  pause  upon  it,  pro- 
ceeded in  the  exchequer,  and  there  it  was,  by  judicial  proceeding  and  sen- 
tence, overthrown.  If  this  sentence  were  according  to  law  and  justice, 
then  there's  no  fault  at  all  committed.  If  it  were  against  law,  the  fault, 
whate'er  it  be,  was  the  judges',  not  mine ;  for  I  soHcited  none  of  them. 
And  here  I  humbly  desired,  that  the  Lords  would  at  their  leisure  read 
over  the  sentence  given  in  the  exchequer,*  which  I  then  deUvered  in ; 
but  by  reason  of  the  length,  it  was  not  then  read.  Whether  after  it  were, 
I  cannot  tell.  I  desired  hkewise  that  my  counsel  might  be  heard  in  this 
and  all  other  points  of  law. 

1.  The  first  witness  was  Mr  Kendall. f  He  says,  that  speaking  with  me 
about  Presteen,  '  I  thanked  God  that  I  had  overthrown  this  foeffment.' 

2.  The  second  witness,  Mr  Miller, |  says  he  heard  me  say,  '  They  would 
have  undone  the  church,  but  I  have  overthrown  their  feoffment.'  These 
two  witnesses  prove  no  more  than  I  confess.  For  in  the  manner  afore- 
said, I  deny  not  but  I  did  my  best  in  a  legal  way  to  overthrow  it.  And  if 
I  did  thank  God  for  it,  it  was  my  duty  to  do  so,  the  thing  being  in  my 
judgment  so  pernicious  as  it  was. 

3.  The  third  witness  was  Mr  White,  one  of  the  feoffees. §  He  says, 
*  that  coming  as  counsel  in  a  cause  before  me,  when  that  business  was 
done,  I  fell  bitterly  on  him  as  an  underminer  of  the  church.'  I  remember 
well  his  coming  to  me  as  counsel  about  a  benefice.  And  'tis  very  likely  I 
spake  my  conscience  to  him,  as  freely  as  he  did  his  to  me  ;  but  the  parti- 
culars I  remember  not ;  nor  do  I  remember  his  coming  afterwards  to  me  to 

*  Sir  Leolin  Jenkins  hath  a  copy  of  it  out  of  the  records  of  the  exchequer. 
W.  S.  A.  0.     (See  Rushworth's  Collections,  vol.  ii.  pp.  151,  152.) 

t  '  William  Kendall.' — Prynne's  Cant.  Doom,  p.  388. 

j   '  Tempest  Miller.' — Ibid. 

§  John  White.  He  was,  in  1640,  M.P.  for  Southwark,  and  chairman  of  the 
Committee  for  Religion.  He  was  commonly  called  '  Century'  White  from  the  title 
of  his  celebrated  tractate,  '  The  First  Century  of  MaUgnant  Priests,'  (Wood.  Ath. 
Ox.  iii.  144,  146). 


MEMOIR  OF  RICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D.  Ixxvii 

Fulham;  nor  his  offer  '  to  change  the  men  or  the  course,  so  the  thing  might 
stand.'  For  to  this  I  should  have  been  as  wilHng  as  he  was;  and  if  I  re- 
member right,  there  was  order  taken  for  this  in  the  decree  of  the  Exchequer. 
And  his  majesty's  pleasure  declared,  that  no  penny  so  given  should  be 
turned  to  other  use.  And  I  have  been,  and  shall  ever  be,  as  ready  to  get 
in  impropriations,  by  any  good  and  legal  way,  as  any  man  (as  may  appear 
by  my  labours  about  the  impropriations  in  Ireland).  But  this  way  did  not 
stand  either  with  my  judgment  or  conscience. 

1.  First,  because  little  or  nothing  was  given  by  them  to  the  present  in- 
cumbent, to  whom  the  tithes  were  due,  if  to  any ;  that  the  parishioners 
which  payed  them,  might  have  the  more  cheerful  instruction,  the  better 
hospitality,  and  more  full  relief  for  their  poor. 

'  2.  Secondly,  because  most  of  the  men  they  put  in,  were  persons  dis- 
affected to  the  discipline,  if  not  the  doctrine,  too,  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land. 

*  3.  Thirdly,  because  no  small  part  was  given  to  schoolmasters,  to 
season  youth  above,  for  their  party ;  and  to  young  students  in  the  univer- 
sities, to  purchase  them  and  their  judgments  to  their  side,  against  their 
coming  abroad  into  the  church. 

'  4.  Fourthly,  because  all  this  power  to  breed  and  maintain  a  faction, 
was  in  the  hands  of  twelve  men,  who  were  they  never  so  honest,  and  free 
from  thoughts  of  abusing  this  power,  to  fill  the  church  with  schism,  yet 
who  should  be  successors,  and  what  use  should  be  made  of  the  power,  was 
out  of  human  reach  to  know.' 

5.  Because  this  power  was  assumed  by,  and  not  to  themselves,  without 
any  legal  authority,  as  Mr  Attorney  assured  me. 

He  further  said,  '  that  the  impropriations  of  Presteen,  in  Radnorshire, 
was  specially  given  to  St  Antolia's,  in  London.*  I  say  the  more  the 
pity,  considering  the  poorness  of  that  country,  and  the  Kttle  preach- 
ing that  was  among  that  poor  people,  and  the  plenty  which  is  in  Lon- 
don. Yet  because  it  was  so  given,  there  was  care  taken  after  the  decree, 
ttiat  they  of  St  Antolin's  had  consideration,  and  I  think  to  the  full.  He 
says,  '  that  indeed  they  did  not  give  anything  to  the  present  incumbents, 
till  good  men  came  to  be  in  their  places.'  Scarce  one  incumbent  was 
bettered  by  them.  And  what  then  ?  In  so  many  places  not  one  '  good 
man'  found?  'Not  one  factious  enough  against  the  church,  for  Mr 
White  to  account  him  good  ? '  Yet  he  thinks  '  I  disposed  these  things 
afterwards  to  unworthy  men.'  *  Truly,  had  they  been  at  my  disposal,  I 
should  not  wittingly  have  given  them  to  Mr  White's  worthies.'  But  his 
majesty  laid  his  command  upon  his  attorney,  and  nothing  was  done  or  to  be 
done  in  these  things,  but  by  his  direction.  For  Dr  Heylin,  if  he  spake 
anything  amiss  concerning  this  feoffment,  in  any  sermon  of  hisf  he  is 
living  to  answer  it ;  me  it  concerns  not.  '  Mr  Brown  in  the  sum  of  the 
charge  omitted  not  this.     And  I  answered  as  before.     And  in  his  reply  he 

*  This  impropriation  was,  after  the  forfeiture,  granted  by  King  Charles  I.  to  the 
rector  of  Presteign  for  ever.  This  grant  was  revoked  during  the  Rebellion,  but  con- 
firmed by  King  Charles  II.  at  the  beginning  of  his  reign. 

t  The  Sermon  to  which  reference  is  here  made,  was  preached  by  Heylin,  at  St 
Mary's,  Oxford,  July  11.  1630,  at  the  Act.  The  passage  relating  to  the  feoffees  will 
be  found  in  Prynne  fCant.  Doom,  p.  386),  who  transcribed  it  from  a  MS.  copy  of  the 
Sermon  in  Abp.  Laud's  study  ;  and  in  Heylin  (Cypr.  Ang.  p.  199,  Lend.  1671). 
who  appears  in  his  turn  to  have  transcribed  it  from  Prynne. 


Ixxviii  MEBIOIR  OF  EICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D. 

turned  again  upon  it,  that  it  must  be  a  crime  in  me,  because  I  projected  to 
overtlirow  it.  But,  under  favour,  this  follows  not.  For  to  project  (though 
the  word  '  projector'  sounds  ill  in  England),  is  no  more  than  to  forecast 
and  forelay  any  business.  Now  as  'tis  lawful  for  me,  by  all  good  and  fit 
means,  to  project  the  settlement  of  anything  that  is  good;  so  is  it  as  lawful, 
by  good  and  legal  means,  to  project  the  overthrow  of  anything  that  is  cun- 
ningly or  apparently  evil.  And  such  did  this  feoffment  appear  to  my  under- 
standing, and  doth  still.'  As  for  reducing  of  impropriations  to  their  proper 
use,  they  may  see  (if  they  please)  in  my  Diary  (whence  they  had  this)  an- 
other project  to  buy  them  into  the  church's  use.  For  given  they  will 
not  be.  But  Mr  Pryn  would  shew  nothing,  nor  Mr  Nicolas  see  anything, 
but  what  they  thought  would  make  against  me. 

Of  this  Defence,  it  must  be  said  in  the  apophthegm  of  Helps, 
*  It  would  often  be  as  well  to  condemn  a  man  unheard,  as  to  con- 
demn him  upon  the  reasons  which  he  openly  avows  for  any  course 
of  action.'*  Still,  in  common  with  the  whole  of  the  'Answers,'  as 
tragically  told  in  the  '  History  of  the  Troubles,'-)-  it  exhibits  no  little 
astuteness  and  dexterity,  and  more  than  all  his  resoluteness  in 
assertion  of  conscience.  There  is  also  characteristic  strategy  shewn 
in  his  retreats  behind  others  who  acted  with  him,  now  Attorney- 
General  Noye,  and  now  the  king  himself,  with  an  almost  humorous 
contrast  in  the  surrender  of  Hey]  in  to  his  fate.  While  then  we 
cannot  altogether  deny  that  an  answer  (not  reply  merely,  but 
answer)  is  returned,  nor  that  his  infamy  was  shared  ;  yet  there 
lies  behind  all  the  indisputable  fact,  that  here  was  an  associa- 
tion of  the  very  salt  of  Church  and  State,  seeking  from  their 
own  resources  to  purchase  in  a  legal  way, — in  the  very  way  their 
accuser  himself  had  done,  and  still  proposed  to  do, — '  impropriations' 
in  the  hands  of  laymen  who  were  not  only  willing,  but  wishful,  to 
part  with  them,  and  to  place  therein,  through  the  recognised  autho- 
rities, men  of  kindred  cliaracter  with  themselves,  in  order  that  the 
gospel  might  be  fully  preached,  and  the  people  cared  for — and 
Laud  prevents.  It  is  not  more  strange  than  sad,  that  in  this  nine- 
teenth century,  men  should  be  found  maintaining  that  Laud  did  right 
— that  in  entering  among'  the  things  to  be  done,'  the  overthrow  of 
the  '  Feoffees,'  or  the  frustration  of  an  earnest  effort  whereby  men 
of  God,  in  the  truest  sense,  would  have  'fed  the  flock  of  God, 
which  he  hath  redeemed  with  his  own  blood,'  he  came  to  a 
resolution,  and  in  the  execution  of  it  performed  a  service,  to  be 
remembered  and  praised,  not  deplored.  But,  indeed,  such  de- 
fences only  mask  a  deeper  hatred.  For  often,  as  Lovell  Beddoes 
puts  it — 

*  Thoughts  in  the  Cloister  and  the  Crowd.     1835,  12mo,  page  9. 
t  The  History  of  the  Troubles  and  Trial  of  Archbishop  Laud.     Works  (edited  by 
Scott  and  Bliss  in  '  Anglo-Cathclic  Library'),  vol.  iv.  pp.  302-306. 


MEMOIR  OF  RICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D.  Ixxix 

'  These  are  the  words  that  grow,  like  grass  and  nettles 
Out  of  dead  men  ;  and  speckled  hatreds  hide, 
Like  toads,  among  them.'* 

There  is  always  a  certain  nimbus  of  glory  around  a  decollated 
tead,  and  I  am  disposed  to  concede  that  a  truer  man,  great  among 
the  small,  fell  on  Tower  Hill  than  he  whose  face  paled  on  the 
awful  block  of  Whitehall  window,  though  it  was  a  king's  and  has 
been  canonized  as  a  martyr's.  There  was  a  stout-heartedness  in  the 
face  of  fearful  odds  in  the  stricken  and  forsaken  primate  through- 
out his  trial  that  commands  a  measure  of  respect ;  and,  perhaps, 
such  is  the  inscrutable  mystery  of  poor  human  nature,  he  deceived 
himself  into  a  conscientious  suppression  of  all  consciences  that  dif- 
fered from  his  own.  Neither  would  I  forget  that  one  or  two,  or 
even  three  or  four — Hall  and  Prideaux,  Ussher,  Davenant,  and 
Wilham  ChilHngworth — may  be  named,  who,  self-contradictorily, 
were  advanced  in  the  church  more  or  less  by  him.t  I  will  not 
conceal  this,  though  historic  candour  compels  me  to  affirm  that, 
in  so  far  as  they  fell  in  with  his  wishes  (taking  Bishop  Hall  as  an 
example),  they  stained  the  white  of  their  souls,  and  that  Ussher  and 
the  apostolic  BedeH  and  ChilHngworth  protested  against  the  ulti- 
mate development  of  his  views  and  actings. 

I  gladly  give  him  all  praise  for  his  honest  and  courageous  word  to 
the  king,  when  his  irreverent  Majesty  camein  too  late  and  interrupted 
'  prayers.'  It  was  a  brave  and  worthy  request  that  he  made  that  the 
king  should  be  present  '  at  prayers  as  well  as  sermon  every  Sunday.'  J 

I  found  no  common  joy  also  in  coming,  in  the  arid  pages  of  the 
'  Diary,'  upon  these  pitying  words  about  a  very  venerable  Puritan, 
gleaming  like  a  drop  of  dew,  or  even  a  human  tear  : — '  In  Leicester 
the  dean  of  the  Arches  suspended  one  Mr  Angel  1,  who  had  con- 
tinued a  lecturer  in  that  great  town  for  these  divers  years,  without 
any  license  at  all  to  preach,  yet  took  liberty  enough.  I  doubt 
his  violence  hath  cracked  his  brain,  and  do  therefore  use  hi  in  more 
tenderly,  because  I  see  the  hand  of  God  hath  overtaken  him!  § 

Brook  ('  Lives  of  the  Puritans '  ||)  testily  criticises  the  entry. 
The  conclusion  was  false,  for  the  '  violence '  of  the  good  Angell 
was  the  '  fine  frenzy  '  of  a  man  in  awful  earnest,  in  a  fashion  which 
Laud  could  not  so  much  as  apprehend.  Still  he  is  entitled  to  the 
full  advantage  of  it,  and  to  have  it  placed  beside  the  kindred  touch- 

*  Poems  :  Posthumous  and  Collected,  vol.  i.  p.  109, 

t  '  Advanced.'  The  most  has  been  made  of  this  in  the  following  acute  and,  in 
certain  respects,  valuable  pamphlet : — '  A  Letter  to  the  Kev.  J.  C.  Ryle,  A.B.,  in  Reply 
to  his  Lecture  on  "  Baxter  and  his  Times."  By  a  Clergyman  of  the  Diocese  of 
Exeter.     Exeter,  1853.     8vo.' 

X  Diary,  Nov.  14.  1626.  2  Ap.  for  1634,  pp,  325-6.  |1  Brook,  iii.  236. 


Jjjj  MEMOIR  OF  EICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D. 

ing notices  of  his  dying  servants, his  love  for  whom  is  remarkable* 
But  with  every  abatement,  unless  we  are  to  blur  the  noblest  names  of 
the  Christianity  of  England  ;  to  write  '  false  '  against  its  truest,  and 
refuse  honour  to  men  who,  rather  than  fail  in  fealty  to  what  they 
believed  was  written  in  the  word  of  God,  hazarded  all  that  was 
dear  to  them  ;  unless  we  are  to  overtop  the  loftiest  intellects  by  one 
of  the  lowest,  and  sanctified  genius  and  learning  by  one  who  was 
no  scholar,  and  even  could  not  write  tolerable  English,,  we  must 
denounce  every  attempt  to  exalt  and  extol  the  morbid  craving  for 
an  impossible  '  uniformity'  of  this  hard,  cruel,  unlovingly  zealous, 
and  unlovable  man,  around  whom  there  hangs  but  a  single  gentle 
memory  of  tenderness  to  frailty  or  mercy  to  penitence  ;  from  whose 
pen  there  never  once  flowed  one  true  word  for  Christ  or  the  salva- 
tion of  souls  ;  from  whom,  in  his  darkened  end,  there  came  not  so 
much  as  that  remorseful  touch  that  wins  our  sympathy  for  a  Stephen 
Gardiner,  '  Erravi  cum  Petro  at  non  fievi  cum  Petro.'f     Claver- 
house,  the  'bloody,'  and  the  first  Charles,  the  'false,'  have  been 
idealised.    We  look  upon  their  pensive  faces,  and  feel  how  traitorous 
they  must  have  been  to  their  better  nature.     But  Laud  it  is  not  pos- 
sible to  idealise.     The  more,  successive  biographers  have  elucidated 
his  history  ;  they  have  only  the  more  made  him  a  definite  object  of 
contempt.     He  was  elevated  above  men  who,  by  head  and  shoulders 
(and  we  know  what  the  head  includes),  were  taller  than  himself: 
The  stilts  fell  from  beneath  him,  and  he  found  his  level,  as  '  im- 
becile' (it  is  Lord  Macaulay's  word),  as  contemptible,  as  worthless 
a  man  as  ever  rose  to  power— a  mitred  Robespierre.     A  certam 
party  are  voluble  in  pronouncing  their  judgments  upon  the  victims 
of  Laud.     It  were  to  play  false^  to  truth  to  let  them  go  unanswered ; 
and  the  present  is  undoubtedly  an  occasion  demanding  such  answer 
and  out-speaking.     But — 

'  I  say  not  that  the  man  I  praise  ^  _, 

By  that  poor  tribute  stands  more  high, 
I  say  not  that  the  man  I  blame 

Be  not  of  purer  worth  than  I  ; 

*  Laud's  servants.  I  give  one  entry  in  Diary  :-'Sept.  23.  I621.-Thy.  Mr 
Adam  Torless,  my  ancient,  loving,  and  faithful  servant,  then  my  steward,  after  he 
had  served  me  full  forty -two  years,  died,  to  my  great  loss  and  grief.' 

t  Gardiner.     Foss's  Judges  of  England,  v.  370. 

%  A  few  wise  words  from  '  Thoughts  in  the  Cloister  and  the  Crowds'  may  enforce  our 
remarks  — '  Perhaps  it  is  the  secret  thought  of  many  that  an  ardent  love  of  power 
and  wealth,  however  culpable  in  itself,  is  nevertheless  a  proof  of  superior  sagacity. 
But  in  answer  to  this  it  has  been  well  remarked,  that  even  a  child  can  clench  its 
little  hand  the  moment  it  is  born  ;  and  if  they  imagine  that  the  successful,  at  any 
rate,  must  be  sagacious,  let  them  remember  the  saying  of  a  philosopher,  that  tue 
meanest  reptiles  are  found  at  the  summit  of  the  loftiest  pillars.'     (Pp.  20-1.) 


MEMOIR  OF  EICHAED  SIBBES,  D.D.  IXXXJ 

But  when  I  move  reluctant  lips 

For  holy  justice,  human  right, 
The  sacred  cause  I  strive  to  plead 

Lends  me  its  favour  and  its  might.'* 


CHAPTER  IX. 

SIBBES'S  '  introductions'  TO  WORKS  OF  CONTEMPORARIES. 

Whitaker — Duke  of  York— Paul  Bayne — Henry  Scudder — Ezekiel  Culverwell— Dr 
John  Preston — John  Smith — John  Ball — Richard  Capel. 

But  I  turn  the  leaf,  and  pass  on  in  our  '  Memoir.'  And  it  is  a 
pleasant  change  to  turn  from  a  Laud,  chaffering  over  the  breadth 
of  a  phylactery  ;  from  a  Mountagu,  overwhelming  holy  men,  such  as 
Samuel  Ward,  with  the  ribaldry  of  a  '  Gagg  for  the  new  gospel ! — 
no,  a  new  gagg  for  an  old  goose!'  from  a  Wren,  tracking  every 
'  two  or  three '  who  sought  to  meet  together  in  the  name  of 
the  Lord,  to  Richard  Sibbes  at  his  post,  discharging  his  duties 
as  a  minister  of  Christ  through  '  good  and  evil  report,'  and  sus- 
taining the  kindliest  relationship  with  all  the  '  good  men  and  true' 
of  his  contemporaries.  There  are  pleasant  memorials  of  the  latter 
in  various  occasional  productions,  such  as  '  prefaces'  and  '  epistles 
dedicatory,'  which  Sibbes  from  time  to  time  prefixed  to  good  books 
of  good  men.  These  I  would  now  bring  together.  They  give  us 
some  very  precious  glimpses  of  his  society,  from  a  pretty  early  date 
to  near  the  close.  They  are,  indeed,  so  many  little  '  essays'  on  reli- 
gious subjects,  written  in  his  very  best  style,  and  breathing  all  the 
sweetness,  and  informed  with  all  the  spirituality,  of  his  larger  writings. 
Where  can  we  turn  to  more  felicitous  words  about  '  faith,'  and 
'  prayer,'  and  '  holiness,'  and  the  '  Christian  life'  ?  while  there  is  a 
modesty  of  praise  of  the  author  introduced,  whether  living  or  dead, 
in  striking  contrast  with  the  adulation  then  prevalent.  First  of  all, 
I  find  among  the  '  Epicedia  in  Obitum  Gul :  Whitakeri,'t  a  copy  of 
Greek  verses  to  the  memory  of  that  truly  great  man,  whose  mother 
was  Elizabeth  Nowell,  sister  of  Dr  Alexander  Nowell,  and  who,  if  he 
had  found  such  a  biographer  as  Nowell  has  in  Archdeacon  Churton, 
would  be  better  known  to  the  present  generation.  As  a  Master 
of  Sibbes's  own  College  of  St  John's,  and  as  having  married  a  sister 
first  of  Samuel  and  Ezekiel  Culverwell,  and  next  the  widow  of 
Dudley  Fenner,  and  in  every-day  association  with  the  Culverwells 

*  '  Passion -Flowers,'  by  Mrs  Howe.     Boston,  1854,  p.  113. 

t  Works,  Geneva,  fol.  1610,  vol.  i.  p.  706 ;  previously  published  in  1596.     4to. 


Ixxxii  MEMOIR  OF  RICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D. 

and  Fenners,  Cartwright,  Fuller,  Chadderton,  and  Dod,  Whitaker 
could  not  but  be  known  and  esteemed  by  him.  He  was  venerated 
by  all  parties.  He  was,  says  even  the  atrabilious  Anthony  Wood, 
'  one  of  the  greatest  men  his  college  ever  produced,  the  desire  and 
love  of  the  present  times  and  the  envy  of  posterity,  that  cannot 
bring  forth  a  parallel.'  *  '  The  learned  Whitaker,'  observes  Leigh, 
'  the  honour  of  our  schools  and  the  angel  of  our  church,  than  whom 
our  age  saw  nothing  more  memorable.' t  'Who,'  exclaims  Bishop 
Hall,  '  ever  saw  him  without  reverence,  or  heard  him  without  won- 
der?'! Whitaker  died  in  1596,  the  second  year  of  Sibbes's  stu- 
dentship. It  is  significant  that  the  verses  of  such  a  mere  youth 
received  a  place  beside  the  tributes  of  the  greatest  men  of  the 
age:— 

Triv  og^j^i-  -Trd^odov  iroWoig,  '^aidrri^a  TlaviaTUV 

lauTov  yvuPi^sig,  Ovkdynri^i^  eo(poig 
"E^o^os  d'Trd.vTMv,  o  d' dvsb^afjbsv  sgvE/'  't'sog, 

Kal  Mouauv  o^Suig  rdg  dviMyi  dv^ag. 
"EvSiTOC  Tsxdidov,  ' ^  'i/jj^^oiv  xal  irXotcc  xvjSi^vuv 

Trjv  Xu/xjjv  xajiriv  Z,uv  ri  davuv  r'iipuys. 
Huv  yi  duiivri(ST(i\  (prifLriv,  xudog  n  u,iyiGTo\i^ 

Ai'TTUV,  TTjyd^ii  Boy/jbara  hG-~i6tcc. 

K[ichard]   S[ibbes].§ 

It  is  hardly  worth  while  turning  these  verses  into  English,  but 
one  remark  is  suggested  by  them.  Spite  of  the  ''paierri^a  Uairigruv' 
(=  hammer  of  the  papists),  won  by  his  controversies  with  Cam- 
pian  and  Bellarmine  and  others,  Bellarmine  thought  so  highly  of 
Whitaker  that  he  sent  for  his  portrait,  and  gave  it  a  prominent 
place  in  his  study  ;  and  when  his  friends  were  introduced  to  him 
he  used  to  point  to  it  and  say, '  he  was  the  most  learned  heretic  he 
ever  read.' II 

Though  it  anticipates  the  order  in  date,  it  may  be  as  well  to  in- 
troduce here  the  only  other  verses  of  Sibbes  that  are  known  (this 
time  Latin) — on  the  birth  of  the  Duke  of  York  : — H 

*  Fasti  Oxon.  (ed.  by  Bliss,  vol.  i.  p.  210,  &c.) 

t  Edward  Leigh's  Treatise  of  Eeligion  and  Learning,  folio,  1656,  p.  363. 

X  Quoted  in  Leigh,  supra,  p.  364.  Hall  wrote  an  English  '  Elegy  '  and  Latin 
verses  on  Whitaker.  The  former  will  be  found  in  Caroli  Horni  Carmen  Funebre 
in  Obitum  Ornatissimi  viri  Gul.,  Whitakeri,  &c.  Lend.  4to,  1596.  The  latter  pre  • 
fixed  to  Whitaker's  Praelectiones,  1599,  4to.  Both,  in  Hall's  Works  by  Peter  Hall, 
xii.  323-25  and  330.  §  Given  verbatim  ei  literatim  from  the  volume  of  Whitaker. 

II  Wood's  Athense,  ante.  For  full  notice  of  Whitaker,  with,  as  usual,  ample 
authorities,  consult  Cooper's  Athense  Cantab.,  vol.  ii.,  p.  196,  seq. 

%  From  '  Ducis  Eboracensis  Fascise  a  Musis  Cantabrigiensibus,'  1633,  p.  6.  For 
pointing  out  both  the  Greek  and  Latin  verses  I  am  indebted  to  Charles  H.  Cooper, 
Esq.,  Cambridge,  not  more  erudite  than  willing  to  place  his  multitudinous  col- 
lections at  the  disposal  of  a  fellow-labourer. 


MEMOIR  OF  EICHAED  SIBBES,  D.D.  lx>Cxiii 

IN  NATALEM  DUCIS  EBOEACENSIS  AUSPICATISSIMUM. 

Anglia  ter  felix,  terna  jam  prole  beata  : 

Pax  regno  namque  est  pignore  firma  novo. 
Major  si  ex  populi  numero  sit  gloria  regis ; 

Natorum  ex  numero  an  non  mage  surgit  honoa  ? 
Candidiora  nitent  tria  Lilia,  tresque  Leonea 

Exultant,  sceptra  ut  nobilitata  vident, 
Fratribus  et  binis  stipatur  utrinque  Maria: 

Delicias  junctas  cum  Patre  Mater  habet. 
Kegia  stirps  crescit ;  crescunt  bine  gaudia  regni : 

Crescat  et  bine  summo  gloria  summa  Deo ! 

At  Tu,  Magne  puer,  Regum  de  stemmate  germen, 

Cura  Dei,  Patriae  spes  nova,  vive,  vige. 
Gloria  Te  niveis  semper  circumvolet  adis, 

Teque  ipso  major  crescito,  parve  puer ! 
Gratia  te  et  virtus  semper  comitentur  euntem ! 
,       In  vultu  et  labris  sessitet  ipsa  Charis  ! 
Angelicusque  chorus  tua  stet  cunabula  circum, 

Sitque  Duci  semper  Dux  Deus  atque  Comes! 
Et  nati  natorum,  et  qui  nascentur  ab  illis 

Perpetuent  seriem,  Carole  magne,  tuam  ! 
Germinet  usque,  ferax  jam  fauste,  regia  vitia 

Germinet,  0  fructus  edat  et  usque  novos  ! 

E[ichaed]  S[ibbes],  Aulce  Sanetce  Catharince  Prcefectus.* 

It  were  a  waste  of  pains  to  translate  these  lines.  Neither  their 
subject  nor  their  merit  claims  this.-j- 

It  is  clear  that  Sibbes  wanted  the  afflatus  of  the  poet,  of  whom 
the  old  axiom,  one  of  the  world's  memorabilia,  must  ever  hold, 
naseitur  non  fit.  And  alas !  for  the  ' gratia'  and  other  prayers  I 
for  this  Duke  of  York  became  the  Second  Charles  of  England. 

Returning  upon  our  chronology,  Paul  Bayne,  whose  '  ministry  * 
along  with  Sibbes  has  been  described  in  an  earlier  part  of  this 
Memoir,  J  having  died  in  1617,  there  was  issued  immediately  a 
quarto  volume  containing  an  Exposition  of  the  1st  chapter  of  the 
Epistle  to  the  Ephesians.§  Its  main  theme  is  'Predestination,' 
one  of  the  '  doctriTiaV  points  forbidden  by  royal  proclamation  to 
be  discussed.  Soberly,  wisely,  suggestively,  and  with  much  beauty 
of  wording  does  Sibbes  introduce  his  '  father  in  the  gospel.' 

'  Notwithstanding  the  world's  complaint  of  the  surfeit  of  books  (hasty 
wits  being  over  forward  to  vent  their  unripe  and  misshapen  conceits),  yet 

*  This  also  is  given  verbatim  from  the  volume. 

t  Perhaps  the  classical  scholar  will  agree  with  me,  that  in  the  couplet, 
Gratia  te  et  virtus  semper  comitentur  euntem, 
In  vultu  et  labris  sessitet  ipsa  Charis ! 
=  '  May  grace  itself  sit  on  thy  countenance  and  lips,'  we  have  a  reminiscence  of  a 
fragment  from  Diodorus  ^£/^w  rtg  i'rrixa&ioiv  s'Tti  roig  ^iiXiffn  =  '  Persuasion  sat 
upon  his  lips.'     Quoted  in  Keightley's  History  of  Greece,  p.  160. 
X  See  pages  xxxvi,  xxxviii. 

§  Commentary  on  1st  Chapter  of  Ephesians,  handling  the  controversy  of  Pre- 
destination, 4to,  1618. 

VOL.  I.  / 


kxxiv  MEMOIR  OF  RICHAED  SIBBES,  D.D. 

in  all  ages  there  liath  been,  and  will  be  necessary  uses  of  boly  treatises, 
.appliable  to  the  variety  of  occasions  of  the  time ;  because  men  of  weaker 
conceits  cannot  so  easily  of  themselves  discern  how  one  truth  is  inferred 
from  another,  and  proved  by  another,  especially  when  truth  is  controverted 
by  men  of  more  subtile  and  stronger  wits.  Whereupon,  as  God's  truth  hath 
in  all  ages  been  opposed  in  some  branches  of  it ;  so  the  divine  providence 
that  watcheth  over  the  church,  raised  up  some  to  fence  the  truth,  and  make 
up  the  breach.  Men  gifted  proportionally  to  the  time,  and  as  well  furnished 
to  fight  God's  battles,  as  Satan's  champions  have  been  to  stand  for  him : 
neither  have  any  points  of  Scripture  been  more  exactly  discussed,  than  those 
that  have  been  most  sharply  oppugned,  opposition  whetting  both  men's  wits 
and  industry,  and  in  several  ages  men  have  been  severally  exercised.  The 
ancientest  of  the  fathers  had  to  deal  with  them  vvathout  (the  Pagans),  and 
especially  with  proud  heretics,  that  made  their  own  conceits  the  measure 
of  holy  truth,  believing  no  more  than  they  could  comprehend  in  the  articles 
of  the  Trinity,  and  natures  of  Christ,  whence  they  bent  their  forces  that  way, 
and  for  their  matter  wrote  more  securely.  Not  long  after,  the  enemies  of 
grace,  and  flatterers  of  nature,  stirred  up  St  Augustine  to  challenge  the 
doctrine  of  God's  predestination  and  grace  out  of  their  hands,  which  he  did 
with  great  success,  as  fitted  with  grace,  learning,  and  wit  for  such  a  con- 
flict, and  no  Scriptures  are  more  faithfully  handled  by  him,  than  those  that 
were  wrested  by  his  opposites,  and  such  as  made  for  the  strengthening  of 
of  his  own  cause.  In  other  writmgs  he  took  more  liberty,  his  scholars  Pros- 
per, Fulgentius  and  others  interest  themselves  in  the  quarrel. 

In  process  of  time,  men  desu-ous  of  quiet,  and  tu'ed  with  controversies, 
began  to  lay  aside  the  study  of  Scriptures,  and  hearken  after  an  easier  way 
of  ending  strife,  by  the  determination  of  one  man  (the  Bishop  of  Rome), 
whom  \drtually  they  made  the  whole  chm'ch ;  so  the  people  were  shut  up 
under  ignorance  and  impUcit  faith,  which  pleased  them  well,  as  easing  them 
of  labour  of  search,  as  upon  the  same  irksomeness  of  trouble  in  the  eastern 
parts,  they  yielded  to  the  confusion  and  abomination  of  Mahometism. 

And  lest  scholars  should  have  nothing  to  do,  they  were  set  to  tie  and 
untie  school  knots,  and  spin  questions  out  of  their  owti  brain,  in  which 
brabbles  they  were  so  taken  up,  that  they  slightly  looked  to  other  matters  ; 
as  for  questions  of  weight  they  were  schooled  to  resolve  all  into  the  decisive 
sentence  of  the  see  apostolic,  the  authority  of  which  they  bent  their  wits  to 
advance  ;  yet  then  wisdom  found  children  to  justify  her  :  for  Scriptures  that 
made  for  authority  of  princes  and  against  usurpation  of  popes,  were  well 
cleared  by  Occam,  Marsilius,  Pata\Tnus,  and  others,  as  those  of  predestina- 
tion and  grace  by  Ai-iminensis,  Bradwardine,  and  their  followers,  against 
Pelagianism,  then  much  prevailing.  At  length  the  apostasy  of  popery  spread 
so  far,  that  God  in  pity  to  his  poor  church,  raised  up  men  of  invincible 
courage,  unwearied  pains,  and  great  skiU  in  tongues  and  arts  to  ft-ee  religion, 
so  deeply  enthralled ;  from  whence  it  is  that  we  have  so  many  judicious 
tractates  and  commentaries  in  this  latter  age.  And  yet  will  there  be  neces- 
sary use  of  farther  search  into  the  Scriptures  as  new  heresies  arise,  or  old 
are  revived,  and  further  strengthened.  The  conviction  of  which,  is  then 
best  when  their  crookedness  is  brought  to  the  straight  rule  of  Scriptures  to 
be  discovered.  Besides,  new  expositions  of  Scriptures  will  be  useful,  in 
respect  of  new  temptations,  corruptions  in  life  and  cases  of  conscience,  in 
which  the  mind  wiU  not  receive  any  satisfying  resolution,  but  from  explica- 
tion and  application  of  Scriptures.  Moreover,  it  is  not  unprofitable  that 
there  should  be  divers  treatises  of  the  same  portion  of  Scriptures,  because 


MEMOIR  OF  RICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D.  IxXXV 

the  same  truth  may  be  better  conveyed  to  the  conceits  of  some  men,  by 
some  men's  handling  than  others',  one  man  relishing  one  man's  gifts  more 
than  another.  And  it  is  not  meet  that  the  glory  of  God's  goodness  and 
wisdom  should  be  obscured,  which  shineth  in  the  variety  of  men's  gifts, 
especially  seeing  the  depth  of  Scripture  is  such,  that  though  men  had  large 
hearts,  as  the  sand  of  the  sea  shore,  yet  could  they  not  empty  out  all  things 
contained  ;  for  though  the  main  principles  be  not  many,  yet  deductions  and 
conclusions  are  infinite,  and  until  Christ's  second  coming  to  judgment,  thefB 
will  never  want  new  occasion  of  further  search  and  wading  into  these  deeps. 

In  all  which  respects  this  exposition  of  this  holy  man,  deserves  acceptance 
of  the  church,  as  fitted  to  the  times  (as  the  wise  reader  will  well  discern). 
Some  few  places  are  not  so  full  as  could  be  wished,  for  clearing  some  few 
obscurities  ;  yet  those  that  took  the  care  of  setting  them  out,  thought  it 
better  to  let  them  pass  as  they  are,  than  be  over-bold  with  another  man's 
work,  in  making  him  speak  what  he  did  not,  and  take  them  as  they  be. 
The  gi'eatest  shall  find  matter  to  exercise  themselves  in  ;  the  meaner,  matter 
of  sweet  comfort  and  holy  instruction,  and  aU  confess,  that  he  hath  brought 
some  hght  to  this  excellent  portion  of  Scripture. 

He  was  a  man  fit  for  this  task,  a  man  of  much  communion  with  God, 
and  acquaintance  with  his  own  heart,  observing  the  daily  passages  of  his 
life,  and  exercised  much  with  spiritual  conflicts.  As  St  Paul  in  this  epistle 
never  seemeth  to  satisfy  himself  in  advancing  the  glory  of  grace,  and  the 
vileness  of  man  in  himself,  so  this  our  Paul  had  large  conceits  of  these 
things,  a  deep  insight  into  the  mystery  of  God's  gi-ace,  and  man's  corruption  : 
he  could  therefore  enter  further  into  Paul's  meaning,  having  received  a  large 
measure  of  Paul's  spuit.  He  was  one  that  sought  no  great  matters  in  the 
world,  being  taken  up  with  comforts  and  griefs,  unto  which  the  world  is  a 
stranger  ;  one  that  had  not  all  his  learning  out  of  books  ;  of  a  sharp  wit, 
and  clear  judgment :  though  his  meditations  were  of  a  higher  strain  than 
ordinary,  yet  he  had  a  good  dexterity,  ftu'thered  by  his  love  to  do  good,  in 
explaining  dark  points  with  lightsome  simihtudes.  His  manner  of  hand- 
ling questions  in  this  epistle  is  press,  and  school-like,  by  arguments  on  both 
sides,  conclusions,  and  answers,  a  com'se  more  suitable  to  this  purpose  than 
loose  discom'ses. 

In  setting  down  the  object  of  God's  predestination,  he  succeeds  him  in 
opinion,  whom  he  succeeded  in  place  ;  *  in  which  point  divines  accord  not 
who  in  all  other  points  do  jointly  agree  against  the  troubles  of  the  church's 
peace,  in  our  neighbour  countries  ;  for  some  would  have  man  lie  before 
God  in  predestinating  him,  as  in  lapsed  and  miserable  estate  ;  others  would 
have  God  in  that  first  decree  to  consider  man  abstracted  from  such  respects, 
and  to  be  considered  of,  as  a  creatm-e  alterable,  and  capable  either  of  hap- 
piness or  misery,  and  fit  to  be  disposed  of  by  God,  who  is  Lord  of  his  own 
to  any  supernatm-al  end  ;  yet  both  agi-ee  in  this  :  Fu'st,  that  there  was  an 
eternal  separation  of  men  in  God's  piu'pose.  Secondly,  that  this  fii'st 
decree  of  severing  man  to  his  ends,  is  an  act  of  sovereignty  over  his 
creature,  and  altogether  independent  of  anything  in  the  creature,  as 
a  cause  of  it,  especially  in  comparative  reprobation,  as  why  he  rejected 
Judas,  and  not  Peter  ;  sin  foreseen  cannot  be  the  cause,  because  that  was 
common  to  both,  and  therefore  could  be  no  cause  of  severing.  Thirdly,  all 
agree  in  this,  that  damnation  is  an  act  of  divine  justice,  which  supposeth 
demerit ;  and  therefore  the  execution  of  God's  decree  is  founded  on  sin, 
either  of  nature,  or  life,  or  both.     My  meaning  is  not  to  make  the  cause 

*  Perkins, 


IxXSVi  MEMOIB  OF  RICHAED  SIBBES,  D.D. 

mine,  by  unnecessary  intermeddling.  The  worthiness  of  the  men  on  both 
side  is  such,  that  it  should  move  men  to  moderation  in  their  censures  either 
way.  Neither  is  this  question  of  like  consequence  with  others  in  this  busi- 
ness, but  there  is  a  wide  difference  between  this  difference  and  other  differ- 
ences. And  one  cause  of  it,  is  the  difficulty  of  imderstanding,  how  God 
conceives  things,  which  differs  in  the  whole  kind  from  ours,  he  conceiving 
of  things  altogether  and  at  once  without  discourse,  we  one  thing  after 
another,  and  by  another.  Our  comfort  is,  that  what  we  cannot  see  in  the 
light  of  nature  and  grace,  we  shall  see  in  the  Hght  of  glory,  in  the  university 
of  heaven  ;  before  which  time,  that  men  should  in  all  matters  have  the  same 
conceit  of  things  of  this  nature,  is  rather  to  be  wished  for,  than  to  be 
hoped.  That  learned  bishop  (now  vnth  God)  that  undertook  the  defence 
of  Mr  Perkins,  hath  left  to  the  church,  together  with  the  benefit  of  his 
labours,  the  sorrow  for  his  death,  the  fame  of  his  worth,  an  example  like- 
wise of  moderation,  who,  though  he  differed  from  Mr  Perkins  in  this  point, 
yet  shewed  that  he  could  both  assent  in  lesser  things,  and  with  due  respect 
maintain  in  greater  matters.*  Kwe  should  discern  of  differences,  the  church 
would  be  troubled  with  fewer  distempers  ;  I  speak  not  as  if  way  were  to  be 
given  to  Vorstian,  lawless,  licentious  liberty  of  prophecy ;  that  every  one, 
so  soon  as  he  is  big  of  some  new  conceit,  should  bring  forth  his  abortive 
monster :  for  thus  the  pillars  of  Christian  faith  would  soon  be  shaken,  and 
the  church  of  God,  which  is  a  house  of  order,  would  become  a  Babel,  a 
house  of  confusion.  The  doleful  issues  of  which  pretended  Hberty,  we  see 
in  Polonia,  Transylvania,  and  in  countries  nearer  hand.  We  are  much  to 
bless  God  for  the  king's  majesty's  firmness  this  way,  unto  whose  open  ap- 
pearing in  these  matters,  and  to  the  vigilancy  of  some  in  place,  we  owe  our 
freedom  from  that  schism,  that  troubleth  our  neighbours. 

But  for  diversity  of  apprehensions  of  matters  far  remote  from  the  founda- 
tion ;  these  may  stand  with  public  and  personal  peace.  I  will  keep  the 
reader  no  longer  from  the  treatise  ;  the  blessing  of  heaven  go  with  it,  that 
through  the  good  done  by  it,  much  thanksgiving  may  be  to  God  in  the 
Church !     Amen.  R.  Sibbs. 

Gray's  Inn. 

Our  next  name  is  Henry  Scudder,  whom  Richard  Baxter  and  John 
Owen  united  to  praise  while  he  was  alive.  In  1620,  he  published 
his  inestimable  little  treatise,  worthy  companion  to  his  '  Christian's 
Daily  Walk  in  Holy  Security  and  Peace,'  entitled  '  Key  of  Heaven, 
the  Lord's  Prayer  Opened.'t     To  it  Sibbes  prefixed  a  'Recom- 

*  The  'learned  bishop  '  is  Robert  Abbot,  Bishop  of  Salisbury,  and  the  reference  la 
to  his  '  Defence  of  the*  Reformed  Catholick  of  W.  Perkins  against  Dr  W.  Bishop.' 
4to,  1611. 

t  A  Key  of  Heaven  :  the  Lord's  Prayer  opened,  and  so  applied,  that  a  Christian 
may  learn  how  to  pray,  and  to  procure  all  things  which  may  make  for  the  glory  of 
God,  and  the  good  of  himself,  and  of  his  neighbour.  Containing  likewise  such 
doctrines  of  faith  and  goodness,  as  may  be  very  useful  to  all  that  desire  to  live  godly 
in  Christ  Jesus.  The  second  edition,  enlarged  by  the  author.  Mat.  vii.  7,  Ask, 
and  it  shall  be  given  you  ;  seek,  and  ye  shall  find ;  knock,  and  it  shall  be  opened 
unto  you.  Oratio  justi  clavis  coeli.  London  :  Printed  by  Thomas  Harper,  for  Ben- 
jamin Fisher,  and  are  to  be  sold  at  the  sign  of  the  Talbot  in  Aldersgate  Street.  1633. 
This  '  Key  '  has  been  erroneously  included  among  Sibbes's  own  writings,  e.  g.,  Brook 
('  Lives  of  Puritans,  ii.  420),  and  even  in  Dr  Bliss's  Sale-Catalogue. 


MEMOIE  OF  RICHAKD  SIBBES,  D.D.  IxXXvil 

mendation,'  which  is  in  itself  an  Essay  on  Prayer,  of  rare  value. 
Scudder  was  a  contemporary  of  Sibbes  in  Cambridge,  of  Christ's 
Church.  Afterwards  he  became  successively  minister  at  Drayton,  in 
Oxfordshire,  and  at  Collingbom-Dukes,  in  Wiltshire.  In  the  year 
1643,  he  was  chosen  one  of  the  'Assembly  of  Divines,'  and  was  exem- 
plary in  his  attendance.  His  books  are  pre-eminently  scriptural 
and  practical,  and  there  are  occasional  similes  and  scraps  of  out- 
of-the-way  incidents  of  a  quaint  beauty  and  appositeness.  It  is 
easy  to  understand  that  such  a  man  would  be  dear  to  Richard 
Sibbes.*     Thus  he  writes  : — 

To  be  mueh  in  persuading  those  that  be  favourites  of  some  great  person, 
to  use  that  interest  for  theii*  best  advantage,  were  an  endeavour  somewhat 
needless,  considering  natural  self-love  inclineth  men  in  such  cases  to  be 
sensible  enough  of  their  own  good.  Yet  so  dull  is  our  apprehension  of 
matters  that  are  of  an  higher  nature,  that  though  we  have  the  ear  of  God 
always  open  unto  us,  and  free  access  to  the  throne  of  grace  through  Christ 
who  appeareth  in  heaven  for  us,  carrying  our  names  in  his  breast,  yet  we 
need  stirring  up  to  improve  this  blessed  Uberty,  though  the  whole  world  be  not 
worth  this  one  prerogative,  that  we  can  boldly  call  God  Father.  This  dis- 
proportion of  our  carriage  ariseth  in  part  from  Satan's  malice,  who  laboureth 
to  keep  us  in  darkness,  that  we  believe  not,  or  mind  not  our  best  privileges, 
which  if  we  did,  how  glorious  would  our  Hves  appear !  how  comfortably 
and  fruitfully  should  we  walk  !  what  honour  should  God  have  by  us !  what 
sweet  sacrifice  from  us  !  how  should  we  overlook  all  opposite  power  !  But 
now  by  reason  we  are  prone  to  believe  Satan,  and  the  hes  of  our  own  heart ; 
and  ready  to  call  truth  itself  into  question,  as  if  these  things  were  too  good 
to  be  true,  no  marvel  if  we  pass  our  days  so  deadly.  For  what  use  of  an 
hidden  and  locked  up  treasure,  if  we  use  not  this  key  of  prayer  to  fetch 
from  thence  for  aU  our  need  ?  What  benefit  of  all  the  precious  promises 
made  in  Christ  unto  us,  unless  we  allege  them  unto  God,  and  with  a  re- 
verend boldness  bind  him  with  his  own  word,  which  he  can  no  more  deny, 
than  cease  to  be  God  ?  If  we  took  these  things  to  heart,  God  should  hear 
oftener  from  us,  we  would  be  more  in  heaven  than  we  are,  seeing  we  should 
bring  as  much  grace  and  comfort  from  God  as  we  could  bring  faith  to  grasp 
and  carry  away. 

Besides  this  fore-mentioned  mindlessness  of  our  privileges,  since  the  fall 
the  soul  naturally  loveth  to  spend  and  scatter  itself  about  these  present 
sensible  things,  and  cannot  without  some  strife  gather  itself  together,  and 
fix  upon  heavenly  things.  Now  this  talking  with  God  requireth  an  actual 
bent  of  the  mind,  and  cameth  up  the  whole  soul  into  heaven,  and  exerciseth, 
as  all  the  parts,  so  all  the  graces  of  the  soul,  faith  especially,  prayer  being 
nothing  else  but  the  flame  of  faith.  And  Satan  knowing  that  when  we  send 
up  our  desires  to  God,  it  is  to  fetch  supply  against  him,  troubleth  the  soul,_ 
weak  of  itself,  with  a  world  of  distractions.  AVhere  he  cannot  corrupt  the 
doctrine  of  prayer  (as  in  popery)  with  heresies  and  superstitious  follies,  there 
he  Taboureth  to  hinder  the  exercise  of  it.  Wherein  we  should  be  so  far 
from  being  discouraged,  that  we  should  reason  rather  that  must  needs  be 
an  excellent  duty  which  is  so  irksome  to  the  flesh,  and  which  the  devil  so 
eagerly  sets  against.  This  should  encourage  us  to  this  exercise,  wherein 
*  Scudder.    Consult  Brook's  '  Lives  of  the  Puritans,'  ii.  504,  seq. 


IxXXviii  MEMOIR  OF  PtlCHAED  SIBBES,  D.D. 

lieth  all  our  strength,  that  if  in  spite  of  Satan's  annoyance  and  our  own  in- 
disposition, we  will  set  upon  this  duty,  we  shall  find  oui'selves  by  little  and 
little  more  raised  up  to  heaven,  and  our  hearts  more  and  more  enlarged, 
God  rewarding  the  use  of  that  little  grace  we  find  at  the  fii'st,  with  increase 
of  strength  and  comfort.  To  him  that  hath  (in  the  exercise  of  that  he  hath) 
shall  be  given  more.  We  should  labour  not  to  be  ignorant  of  Satan's  en- 
terprises, who  besides  his  diverting  our  minds  from  prayer,  and  disturbing 
us  in  it,  laboureth  by  all  means  to  draw  us  to  some  sin,  the  conscience 
whereof  will  stop  our  mouths,  and  stifle  our  prayers,  and  shake  our  confi- 
dence, and  eclipse  our  comfort ;  which  he  oft  aimeth  more  at  than  the 
fiia  itself  unto  which  he  tempteth  us.  We  should  labour  therefore  to  pre- 
serve ourselves  in  such  a  state  of  soul,  wherein  we  might  have  boldness  with 
God,  and  wherein  this  gainful  trading  with  him  might  not  be  hindered. 

To  pass  over  many  other  causes  of  the  neglect  of  this  intercotirse,  and 
dealing  with  God  by  prayer,  we  may  well  judge,  as  one  of  the  chief,  a  self- 
sufl&ciency  whereby  men  dwell  too  much  in  themselves.  He  that  hath  no- 
thing at  home  will  seek  abroad.  The  poor  man  (saith  Solomon)  speaketh 
supplications.  If  we  were  poor  in  spirit,  and  saw  our  own  emptiness,  it 
would  force  us  out  of  ourselves.  Alas !  what  temptation  can  we  resist, 
much  less  overcome,  without  fresh  succour  ?  What  cross  can  we  endure 
without  impatience,  if  we  have  not  new  support  ?  What  success  can  we  look 
for,  yea,  in  common  afi"airs,  without  his  blessing  ?  What  good  can  we  do, 
nay,  think  of,  without  new  strength  ?  When  we  do  any  good  by  his  power, 
do  we  not  need  pardon  for  the  blemishes  of  our  best  perfomiances  ?  What 
good  blessing  can  we  enjoy,  so  as  we  defile  not  om'selves  in  it,  without  a 
further  blessing,  giving  us  with  the  thing  the  holy  use  of  it  ?  Yet  we  see 
most  men  content  to  receive  blessings  as  they  come  from  God's  general 
pro^ddence,  without  regarding  any  sanctified  use  by  prayer,  whereas  holy 
men,  knowing  that  God  will  be  sought  unto  even  for  those  things  of  which 
he  hath  given  a  promise,  Ezek.  xxxvi.  37,  in  obedience  to  this  his  divine 
order,  desire  to  receive  all  from  him  as  a  fruit  of  their  prayers.  And  God's 
manner  is  to  keep  many  blessings  fi'om  his  children  until  they  have  begged 
them,  as  delighting  to  hear  his  children  speak.  The  consideration  whereof 
moveth  those  that  have  nearest  communion  with  God  to  acknowledge  him 
in  all  their  ways,  depending  on  him  for  direction,  strength,  success,  where- 
upon he  dehghteth  in  shewing  himself  more  familiarly  unto  them  in  the 
sweetest  experiences  of  his  love,  guiding  them  by  his  counsel  whilst  they 
abide  here,  and  after,  bringing  them  to  glory,  Ps.  xxxvii.  24.  As  other 
graces  gi-ow  in  those  that  are  in  the  state  of  grace,  so  this  spirit  of  prayer 
receiveth  continual  increase  upon  more  inward  acquaintance  with  God,  and 
their  own  estates.  Whence  they  can  never  be  miserable,  having  God  to 
pour  forth  their  spirits  and  ease  their  hearts  unto,  who  cannot  but  regard 
the  voice  of  his  own  Spirit  in  them.  But  of  ourselves,  such  is  our  case, 
that  God  who  knoweth  us  better  than  we  know  ourselves,  saith,  we  know 
not  what  or  how  to  pray,  Rom.  viii.  26.  This  language  of  Canaan  is 
strange  unto  us.  Which  om*  blessed  Saviour  in  mercy  considering,  stirred 
up  a  desire  in  his  disciples  to  be  taught  of  him  the  Son,  how  to  speak  to 
the  Father.  Where  thereupon  he  teacheth  them  a  form,  which  for  heavenly 
fulness  of  matter,  and  exactness  of  order,  sheweth  that  it  could  come  from 
no  other  Author. 

This  holy  pattern  comprising  so  much  in  so  little,  all  things  to  be  desired 
in  six  short  petitions,  it  is  needful  for  the  guides  of  God's  people  to  lay  open 
the  riches  of  it  to  the  view  of  those  that  are  less  exercised.     An  endeavour 


MEMOIR  OF  RICHAED  SIBBES,  D.D.  Ixxxix 

which  his  excellent  majesty  thought  not  unbeseeming  the  greatness  of  a  king. 
For  the  use  of  a  set  form  of  prayer,  and  this  in  special,  I  will  make  no 
question ;  yet  in  the  use  of  this  prayer,  we  may  dwell  more  in  the  medita- 
tion and  enforcing  such  petitions  as  shall  concern  our  present  occasions. 
For  instance,  if  ever  there  were  time  of  praying,  '  Let  thy  kingdom  come,' 
let  Christ  arise  and  his  enemies  be  scattered,  then  certainly  now  is  the 
time  for  us  to  ascend  up  ijito  heaven  by  our  prayers,  and  awake  Christ, 
that  he  would  rebuke  the  winds  and  waves,  and  cause  a  calm ;  that  he 
would  be  strong  for  his  church,  in  maintaining  his  own  cause.  It  is  God's 
manner,  before  any  great  work  for  his  church,  to  stir  up  the  spirits  of  his 
beloved  ones  to  give  him  no  rest.  How  earnest  was  Daniel  with  the  Lord 
immediately  before  the  delivery  out  of  Babylon,  Dan.  xi.  And  undoubtedly,  if 
we  join  the  forces  of  our  prayers  together,  and  set  upon  God  with  an  holy 
violence,  he  would  set  his  power,  his  wisdom,  his  goodness  on  work  for  the 
exaltmg  of  his  church,  and  ruin  of  the  enemies  of  it.  Now  is  the  time  for 
Moses  his  hands  to  be  upheld,  whilst  Amalek  goeth  down. 

The  prevailing  power  of  prayer  with  God  in  times  of  danger,  appeareth 
not  only  in  the  sacred  history  of  the  Bible,  but  hath  been  recorded  in  all 
ages  of  the  chm-ch.  In  the  primitive  church,  a.d.  175,  the  army  of  Chris- 
tians was  called  the  thundering  legion,  because,  upon  their  prayers,  God 
scattered  their  enemies  with  thunder,  and  refi.-eshed  themselves  with  showers 
in  a  great  drought. 

After,  in  the  good  Emperor  Theodosius  his  time,  a.d.  894,  upon  an 
earnest  prayer  to  Christ,  the  winds  fought  from  heaven  for  him  against  his 
enemies,  as  they  did  for  us  in  1588.  And  continually  since,  God  never 
left  the  force  of  faithful  prayer  without  witness.  If  we  would  observe  how 
God  answereth  prayers,  we  should  see  a  blessed  issue  of  all  the  holy  desires 
he  kindles  in  our  hearts ;  for  he  cannot  but  make  good  that  title  whereby 
he  is  styled,  '  a  God  hearing  prayer,'  Ps.  Ixv.  2,  which  should  move  us  to 
sow  more  prayers  into  his  bosom,  the  fruit  whereof  we  should  reap  in  om- 
greatest  need.  It  would  be  a  strong  evidence  in  these  troublesome  times  of 
the  futm-e  good  success  of  the  church,  if  we  were  earnest  in  soliciting  Christ 
with  these  words  which  himself  hath  taught  us,  '  Let  thy  kingdom  come.' 
For  put  him  to  it,  and  '  he  will  never  fail  those  that  seek  him,'  Ps.  ix.  10. 
He  loveth  importunity. 

But  to  speak  something  of  this  treatise  of  this  godly  and  painful  minister 
of  Christ,  which  is  written  by  him  without  affectation,  as  desirous  to  clothe 
spiritual  things  with  a  spiritual  manner  of  writing,  the  diligent  and  godly 
reader  shall  observe  a  sound,  clear,  substantial  handling  of  the  gi'eatest 
points  that  natm-ally  fall  within  the  discourse,  and  a  more  large  and  useful 
unfolding  of  many  things,  than  in  former  treatises.  It  appeareth  he  sought 
the  good  of  all ;  so  that,  besides  the  labours  of  other  holy  men,  there  will 
be  just  cause  of  blessing  God  for  his  assistance  in  this  work.  To  whose 
blessing  I  commend  both  it  and  the  whole  Israel  of  God. 

Gray's  Inn.  R-  Sibbes. 

Passing  on  to  1623-4,  we  have  a  delightful '  epistle'  prefixed  to 

Ezekiel  Culverwell's  '  Treatise  of  Faith applied  especially 

unto  the  use  of  the  weakest  Christians.'  *     This  little  volume  had 

*  A  Treatise  of  Faith.  Wherein  is  declared  how  a  man  may  live  by  faith,  and 
find  relief  in  all  his  necessities.  Applied  especially  unto  the  use  of  the  weakest 
Christians.     By  Ezekiel  Culverwell.     The  just  shall  live  by  faith.     The  seventh 


XO  MEMOIR  OF  RICHAED  SIBBES,  D.D. 

passed  through  seven  editions  by  1633;  and  it  were  well  if  its 
popularity  could  be  revived  ;  for  it  overflows  with  profound  thought, 
sagacious  counsel,  pungent  appeal,  and  true  eloquence.  But  let 
Dr  Gouge  characterise  it  and  its  author.  '  God,'  he  says,  '  sent 
Ezekiel  Culverwell,  as  of  old  he  sent  Ezekiel  Buzi,  to  set  forth  the 
promises  of  God  more  plentifully  and  pertinently  than  ever  before  ; 
and  that  to  breed  faith  where  it  is  not,  to  strengthen  it  where  it  is 
weak,  to  settle  it  where  it  wavereth,  to  repair  it  where  it  decayeth, 
to  apply  it  aright  to  every  need,  to  extend  it  to  sanctification  as 
well  as  to  justification,  and  to  point  out  the  singular  use  of  it  in 
matters  temporal,  spiritual,  and  eternal.'  And  he  adds — '  What  I 
say  of  him,  I  know  of  him  ;  for  from  mine  infancy  have  I  known 
him,  and  under  his  ministry  was  I  trained  up  in  my  younger  years, 
he  being  at  least  two- and-twenty  years  older  than  myself* 
Let  us  now  read  Sibbes's  '  Epistle  to  the  Christian  Reader  : ' — 

The  leading  of  a  happy  life  (the  attainment  whereof  this  treatise  directeth 
unto)  is  that  which  all  desire,  but  God's  truth  only  discovereth,  and  faith 
only  enjoyeth.  In  the  first  Adam,  our  happiness  was  in  our  own  keeping ; 
but  he,  by  turning  from  God  to  the  creature,  made  proof  what  and  whence 
he  was  ;  a  creature  raised  out  of  nothing,  and  without  the  supporting  power 
of  him  in  whom  all  things  consist,  subject  to  fall  into  a  state  worse  than 
nothing  again.  Hence  God,  out  of  his  infinite  power,  and  depth  of  goodness 
intending  the  glory  of  his  mercy,  in  restoring  man,  would  not  trust  man 
with  his  own  happiness  ;  but  would  have  it  procured  and  established  in  the 
person  of  a  second  Adam,  in  whom  we  recover  a  surer  estate  than  we  lost 
in  the  first.  For  though  Adam's  soul  was  joined  to  God,  yet  that  knitting  was 
within  the  contingent  and  changeable  liberty  of  his  own  will ;  but  now  we 
are  brought  to  God  in  an  everlasting  covenant  of  mercy,  by  faith  in  Christ ; 
who,  by  taking  the  nature  of  man  into  unity  of  his  person,  and  not  the 
person  of  any,  became  a  pubUc  person,  to  be  the  author  of  eternal  salvation 
to  all  that  receive  him ;  and  so  gathering  us  that  were  scattered  from  God, 
into  one  head,  bringeth  us  back  again  to  God,  by  a  contrary  way  to  that  where- 
by we  fell,  that  is,  by  cleaving  to  God  by  faith,  from  whom  we  feU  by  distrust. 
A  fit  grace  for  the  state  of  grace,  giving  the  whole  gloiy  to  God,  and  empty- 
ing the  soul  of  all  self-sufficiency,  and  enlarging  it  to  receive  what  is  freely 
wrought  and  ofiered  by  another.  Thus  we  come  to  have  the  comfort,  and 
God  the  glory  of  mercy  ;  which  sweet  attribute  moved  him  to  set  all  other 
attributes  on  work  to  make  us  happy.  Out  of  the  bowels  of  which  mercy, 
as  he  chose  us  to  eternal  salvation  in  Christ,  so  vouchsafeth  he  all  things 
necessary  to  life  and  godliness.  And  as  the  same  love  in  God  giveth  us 
heaven,  and  fumisheth  us  vsith  all  things  needful  in  the  way,  until  we  come 
thither  ;  so  the  same  faith  which  saveth  us,  layeth  hold  likewise  on  the 
promises  of  necessary  assistance,  comfort,  provision,  and  protection  :  and 

edition,  corrected  and  amended.  Ephes.  vi.  16,  '  Above  all,  taking  the  shield  of  faith.* 
Eora.  XV.  4,  '  Whatsoever  things  were  written  aforetime,  were  written  for  our  learn- 
ing, that  we  through  patience  and  comfort  of  the  Scriptures  might  have  hope. 
London  :  Printed  by  J.  D.  for  Hen.  Overton,  and  are  to  be  sold  at  his  shop  at  the 
entering  in  of  Pope's-head  Alley,  out  of  Lumbard  Street,  1633. 
*  '  To  the  Christian  Header.'  prefixed  to  Treatise  of  Faith,  supra. 


MEMOIR  OF  RICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D.  XCl 

this  office  it  performeth  in  all  the  several  stations  of  this  life,  until  it  hath 
brought  us  unto  the  enjoying  of  him  '  in  whose  presence  is  fulness  of  joy 
for  evermore,'  Ps.  xvi.  11. 

We  see  that  same  love  in  parents,  which  moveth  them  to  give  an  inheri- 
tance to  their  sons,  moveth  them  likewise  to  provide  for  them,  and  to  train 
them  up  in  experience  of  their  fatherly  care.  So  it  pleaseth  our  first  and 
best  Father,  besides  the  main  promise  of  salvation,  to  give  us  many  other 
rich  and  precious  promises,  that  in  taste  of  his  goodness  and  truth  in  these, 
we  may  at  length  yield  up  our  souls  to  him,  as  to  our  faithful  Creator, 
1  Pet.  iv.  19,  with  the  more  assured  comfort ;  and  the  longer  we  live  here, 
be  more  rooted  in  faith.  '  I  know  whom  I  have  trusted,'  2  Tim.  i.  12,  saith 
aged  St  Paul.  But  alas  !  how  little  is  that  we  know  of  his  ways,  Job  xxvi. 
14,  because  we  observe  him  not,  making  good  his  word  unto  us  !  *  All  his 
ways  are  mercy  and  truth,'  Ps.  xxv.  10,  and  every  '  word  is  a  tried  word,' 
Ps.  xii.  6.  For  the  better  help  of  God's  people,  to  know  their  portion  in 
those  good  things,  which  their  father  not  only  layeth  up  for  them,  Ps.  xxxi. 
19,  for  times  to  come,  but  layeth  out  for  them  here  as  his  wisdom  seeth 
fit  ;  this  reverend  and  holy  man  of  God  hath  compiled  this  treatise, 
wherein  he  layeth  open  the  veins  of  promises  hidden  in  the  Scriptures,  to 
the  view  of  every  Christian,  and  digesteth  them  in  their  orders  ;  and  withal, 
sheweth  their  several  value  and  use,  for  the  beautifying  of  a  holy  life ; 
which  wits  less  exercised,  of  themselves,  would  not  so  well  have  discerned. 

Now  that  we  may  the  rather  benefit  ourselves  by  this  treatise,  it  will 
not  be  inconvenient  to  know  these  four  things. 

First,  that  it  supposeth  a  reader  grounded  in  the  knowledge  of  the 
nature  and  properties  of  God,  of  Christ  and  his  offices,  of  the  covenant  of 
grace,  and  such  Uke  :  because  as  in  an  arch,  one  stone  settleth  another,  so 
there  is  such  a  linking  together  of  points  in  divinity,  that  one  strengtheneth 
another.  For  from  whence  hath  faith  that  efficacy,  but  because  it  is  that 
which  is  required  in  the  covenant,  to  lay  hold  on  the  free  promises  ?  And 
whence  have  the  promises  their  strength,  but  from  the  constant  nature  of 
Jehovah ;  who  giveth  a  being  to  his  word,  and  is  at  peace  with  us,  by  the 
all-sufficient  sacrifice  of  the  Mediator  of  the  new  covenant  ?  Words  have 
their  vahdity  from  the  authority  of  the  speaker.  Were  not  faith  founded 
on  the  word  of  an  infinite  God,  so  thoroughly  appeased,  the  soul  would 
sink  in  great  temptations,  whereas  now  even  mountains  vanish  before  a 
believing  soul.  For  what  can  stand  against  Christ,  who  is  able  to  subdue 
all  to  himself?  Hence  it  is,  that  now  we  are  by  faith,  Phil.  iii.  21,  safer 
than  Adam  in  Paradise,  because  we  have  a  promise,  which  he  wanted. 
Safer  it  is  to  be  as  low  as  hell  with  a  promise,  than  in  paradise  without  it, 
because  faith  wrought  by  the  power  of  God,  hath  what  strength  God  hath, 
on  whom  it  resteth,  and  therefore  worketh  such  wonders  :  God  honouring 
that  grace,  which  honours  him  so  much. 

But  howsoever  the  knowledge  of  these  things  serveth  the  argument  in 
hand  ;  yet  it  must  not  be  expected,  that  he  should  be  long  in  these  things, 
which  are  but  coincident,  and  should  be  foreknown  :  which  I  speak,  be- 
cause some  of  weaker  judgment,  not  considering  the  just  bounds  of  treatises, 
may  expect  larger  handling  of  some  things.  Whereas  he  hath  laboured 
especially  to  furnish  the  argument  in  hand,  and  not  to  load  the  discourse. 

In  the  second  place,  it  must  be  known,  that  the  fruit  of  these  things 
belong  to  such  as  are  in  Christ,  in  whom  all  promises  are  yea  and  amen, 
made  and  performed.  He  that  by  the  immortal  seed  of  the  word  and  Spirit 
is  bom  again,  may  claim  a  title  to  that  he  is  bom  unto.     These  promises 


jcii  MEMOIK  OF  RICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D. 

be  as  well  liis  inlieritance,  as  heaven  itself  is.  For  clearing  of  this,  there 
be  three  degrees  of  promises  ;  one  of  salvation  to  absolute  and  personal 
obedience  ;  but  this,  by  reason  of  weakness  of  the  flesh,  driveth  us  to 
a  despair  of  ourselves,  and  so  to  the  second  promise  of  life  by  Christ. 
This  requireth  nothing  but  receiving  by  faith,  which  is  wrought  in  those 
that  are  given  to  Chi-ist,  whilst  grace  is  offered,  the  Spirit  clothing  the 
words  with  a  hidden  and  strong  power,  and  making  them  operative  ;  when 
they  are  commanded  to  beheve,  their  hearts  are  opened  to  beheve.  To 
persons  in  this  estate,  are  made  a  third  kind  of  promises,  of  all  that  is 
needful  in  this  world,  until  all  promises  end  in  performance.  Of  both 
these  promises,  and  the  last  especially,  this  book  speaketh. 

Thirdly,  it  must  be  pressed  upon  those  that  mean  to  profit,  that  they 
resolve  to  come  under  Christ's  government,  and  be  willing  to  be  led  by  the 
Spirit  into  all  revealed  truth.  Wisdom  is  easy  to  such  as  are  willing  ;  and 
the  victory  is  as  good  as  gotten,  when  the  will  is  brought  from  thraldom  to 
base  affections,  to  resolve  to  be  guided.  For  such  a  heart  Ueth  open  to 
God's  gracious  working,  and  the  Spirit  readily  closeth  with  such  a  spirit, 
as  putteth  not  bars  of  obstinacy. 

Notwithstanding,  we  must  know  in  the  fourth  place,  that  when  wc  are 
at  the  best,  we  shall  yet  be  in  such  a  conflicting  state,  as  that  we  shall  long 
after  that  glorious  liberty  of  the  sons  of  God,  after  we  have  done  the  work 
God  hath  given  us  to  do.  For  God  wiU  have  a  difference  betwixt  heaven 
and  earth ;  and  shai-pen  our  desire  of  the  coming  of  his  kingdom,  which 
nothing  doth  so  much,  especially  in  times  of  outward  prosperity,  as  those 
tedious  combats  of  the  inner  man.  And  yet  let  this  raise  up  our  spirits, 
that  it  is  so  far  that  this  remainder  should  prejudice  our  interest  in  hap- 
piness, that  thereby  we  are  driven  every  day  to  renew  our  claim  to  the 
promise  of  pardon,  and  so  to  live  by  faith  until  this  unclean  issue  be  dried 
up.  These  sour  herbs  help  us  to  relish  Christ  the  better.  Moreover, 
though  in  this  life  our  endeavours  come  short  of  our  desires,  and  we  always 
allow  a  greater  measure  than  we  can  attain  unto  ;  yet  we  may,  by  stirring 
up  the  graces  begun  in  us,  and  by  suing  God  upon  those  promises  of  his 
Spirit  and  grace,  whereby  he  hath  made  himself  a  debtor  unto  us,  come 
to  that  measure,  whereby  we  shall  make  the  profession  of  religion  glorious, 
and  lovely  in  the  eyes  of  others,  and  comfortable  to  ourselves ;  and  so  shine 
far  brighter  than  others  do.  Why  then  do  we  not,  in  the  use  of  all  sancti- 
fied means,  beg  of  God,  to  make  good  the  promises  wherein  he  hath  caused 
us  to,trust  ?  Do  we  not,  beside  life  of  our  bodies,  desire  health  and  strength 
to  discharge  all  the  ofiices  of  civil  life  ?  And  why  should  we  not  much 
more  (if  the  life  of  God  be  in  us)  labour  after  health  and  vigour  of  Spirit, 
and  for  that  anointing  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  \vhereby  we  may  do  and  suffer 
all  things,  so  as  we  may  draw  others  to  a  liking  of  our  ways  ?  The  truth 
is,  Satan  labom'eth  to  keep  us  under  belief  of  particular  promises,  and  from 
renewing  our  covenant,  in  confidence,  that  God  will  perfect  the  work  that 
he  hath  begun,  and  not  repent  him  of  his  earnest.  So  far  as  thus  we 
cherish  distrust,  we  lie  open  to  Satan.  Strengthen  faith,  and  strengthen 
all.  Let  us  therefore  at  once  set  upon  all  duties  required,  and  be  in  love 
with  an  holy  life,  above  all  other  lives,  and  put  ourselves  upon  God's  mercy 
and  truth  ;  and  we  shall  be  able  from  experience,  so  far  to  justify  aU  God's 
ways  as  that  we  would  not  be  in  another  state  for  all  the  world.  Wliat 
greater  encouragement  can  we  wish,  than  that  our  corruptions  shall  fall 
more  and  more  before  the  Spii'it,  and  we  shall  be  able  to  do  aU  things 
through  Christ  that  strengtheneth  us  ? 


MEMOIB  OF  EICHAKD  SIBBES,  D.D.  XCIH 

To  make  these  ways  of  God  more  plain  unto  us,  this  pains  is  taken  by 
this  man  of  God.  Not  to  disparage  the  labours  of  other  holy  men  (as  far 
as  I  can  judge),  there  is  nothing  in  this  kind  more  fully,  judiciously,  or 
savourily  written,  with  greater  evidence  of  a  spirit  persuaded  of  the  goodness 
and  truth  of  what  it  sets  down.  And  though  (distinct  from  respect  to  the 
author)  the  treatise  deserveth  much  respect,  yet  it  should  gain  the  more 
acceptance,  especially  of  those  that  are  babes  and  young  men  in  Christ, 
that  it  is  written  by  a  father  of  long  and  reverend  esteem  in  the  church  ; 
who  hath  begun  in  all  these  rules  to  others.  As  for  our  bodies,  so  for  our 
souls,  we  may  more  secm'ely  rely  on  an  old  experienced  physician.  He 
commendeth  it  unto  thee,  having  felt  the  kindly  working  of  it  upon  him- 
self. The  Lord  by  his  Spirit  convey  these  truths  into  thy  heart,  and  upon 
good  felt  hereby  in  thy  soul,  remember  to  desire  God  that  he  may  still 
bring  forth  more  fruit  in  his  age,  until  he  hath  finished  his  coui'se  with 
credit  to  the  gospel,  and  an  assured  hope  of  a  blessed  change. 

Gray's  Inn.  Eichakd  Sibbes. 

"We  place  along  with  this  another  'epistle'  by  Sibbes,  prefixed  to 
another  small  book  by  Culverwell.  The  copy  of  this  in  my  library, 
was  formerly  in  the  possession  of  Charles  I.,  and  has  his  royal  arms 
enstamped  in  gold  on  each  side.  Judging  from  its  appearance,  it 
must  have  been  well  read.  The  book  is  entitled,  '  Time  Well  Spent 
in  Sacred  Meditations,  Divine  Observations,  Heavenly  Exhortations  ;' 
and  the  'Epistle  Dedicatory' is  addressed  to  an  ' excellent  Chris- 
tian woman,'  who  seems  to  have  been  greatly  beloved  by  Sibbes, 
Mrs  More.  *     It  runs  as  follows  : — 

To  the  right  uvrshijrful  and  truly  religious  Mrs  More. 

Eight  Woeshipful  and  worthy  Mrs  More. — The  church  of  God  hath 
not  only  benefit  by  exact  and  just  treatises  knit  together  in  a  methodical 
dependency  of  one  part  fr-om  another,  but  likewise  of  sententious  independent 
speeches,  that  have  a  general  lustre  of  themselves,  as  so  many  flowers  in  a 
garden,  or  jewels  in  a  casket,  whereof  every  one  hath  a  distinct  worth  of 
themselves ;  and  this  maketh  them  the  more  acceptable,  that  being  short 
they  are  fitter  for  the  heart  to  carry,  as  having  much  in  a  little. 

This  moved  this  reverend  man  of  God,  to  spend  what  spare  hours  his 
sickness  would  afibrd  him  about  thoughts  in  this  kind.  He  was  many 
years  God's  prisoner  under  the  gout  and  stone,  such  diseases  as  will  allow 
but  little  liberty  to  those  that  are  arrested  and  tortured  by  them.  So  fruitful 
an  expense  of  time  in  so  weak  and  worn  a  body  is  seldom  seen,  scarce  any 
came  to  him  but  went  away  better  than  they  came  ;  God  gave  much  strength 
of  spirit  to  uphold  his  spirit  from  sinking  under  the  strength  of  such  diseases. 
It  were  a  haj^py  thing  if  we  that  are  ministers  of  Christ,  would  on  all  con- 
ditions and  times  think  of  our  calling,  that  our  ofiice  is  not  tied  to  one  day 
in  a  week,  and  one  hour  or  two  in  that  day,  but  that  upon  all  fit  occasions 
we  are  to  quicken  ourselves  and  others  in  the  way  homeward,  as  guides  to 
heaven.  We  read  not  of  the  opening  of  heaven  but  to  some  great  purpose. 
So  it  should  be  with  the  man  of  God,  he  should  not  open  his  mouth  and  let 
any  thing  fall  (so  far  as  frailty  and  the  necessary  occui-rences  of  human  life 
will  permit)  but  what  might  minister  some  grace  to  the  hearers. 

The  reason  why  I  made  choice  of  you  to  dedicate  them  unto,  is  not  that 
*  Mrs  More.     She  is  named  in  his  Will 


Xciv  MEMOIR  OF  RICHAED  SIBBES,  D.D. 

I  miglit  discharge  mine  own  debt  unto  you  with  another  man's  coin,  but 
that  I  could  not  think  of  any  fitter  than  yourself,  whom  this  ancient  minister 
of  Christ  esteemed  always  very  much  for  eminency  of  parts  and  grace,  and 
you  him  as  a  man  faithful,  and  one  that  maintained  his  ministerial  authority 
with  good  success  in  his  place  ;  God  allotting  your  habitation  in  your 
younger  years  in  that  part  of  the  country  where  he  lived,  and  where  you 
first  learned  to  know  God  and  yourself.  In  those  times  those  parts  were 
in  regard  of  the  air  unhealthful,  yet  that  air  was  so  sweetened  with  the 
savoury  breath  of  the  gospel,  that  they  were  termed  the  holy  land.  Here- 
upon I  thought  meet  to  commend  these  sententious  speeches  by  your  name 
to  others.  Which  though  (divers  of  them)  may  seem  plain,  yet  what  they 
want  in  show  they  have  in  weight,  as  coming  from  a  man  very  well  ex- 
perienced in  all  the  ways  of  God.  The  Lord  follow  you  with  his  best  bless- 
ings, that  you  may  continue  still  to  adorn  the  gospel  of  Christ  in  your 
place ! 

Yours  in  all  Christian  service,  K.  Sibbes. 

Before  passing  on  to  other  'Epistles'  of  a  public  kind,  I  would 
here  introduce  a  letter  to  Ussher,  of  probably  1628-29,  which  hap- 
pens to  have  been  preserved.  It  reveals  to  us  the  keen  zest  and 
interest  with  which  Sibbes  observed  what  was  transpiring,  '  Peti- 
tion of  Right,'  and  the  like.  It  falls  in  here  fittingly  as  an  intro- 
duction to  the  next  '  Epistle,'  as  there  is  in  it  a  passing  notice  of  the 
last  illness  of  the  '  Master'  of  '  Emmanuel.' 

Mr  R.  Sibbs  to  the  Archbishop  of  Armagh. 

Right  Reverend, — My  duty  and  service  premised.  I  am  forced  of  the 
sudden  in  midst  of  straits  and  distractions  to  write  unto  you,  your  ser- 
vant being  presently  to  depart  here  :  but  I  choose  rather  thus  to  express 
my  remembrance  of  your  grace,  than  to  let  slip  so  fit  an  opportunity.  I 
hope  I  shall  always  carry  you  in  my  heart,  and  preserve  that  deserved 
respect  I  owe  to  you,  who  are  oft  presented  to  me  as  one  that  God  hath 
shewed  himself  unto  in  more  than  ordinary  measure,  and  set  up  high  in 
the  affections  of  the  best.  I  know  not  the  man  living  more  beholden  to 
God,  in  those  respects,  than  yourself.  It  went  for  current  here  a  while 
that  you  were  dead,  which  caused  the  hearts  of  many  to  be  more  refreshed 
upon  hearing  the  contrary.  It  is  very  iU  losing  of  men  of  much  meaner 
service  in  the  church  in  these  almost  desperate  times.  Yesterday  there 
was  an  agreement  between  the  two  houses  about  a  petition  of  right,  whereby 
the  hberty  of  the  subject  is  like  to  be  estabhshed.  Here  is  much  joy  for 
it,  if  it  prove  not  a  lightning  before  death.  Our  fears  are  more  than  our 
hopes  yet.  Doctor  Preston  is  inclining  to  a  consumption,  and  his  state  is 
thought  doubtful  to  the  physicians.  The  neighbour  schism  getteth  still  more 
strength  with  us.  Boni  dejiciunt,  mall  perficinnt.  I  cannot  now  enlarge 
myself,  your  servant  hastening  hence.  The  Lord  still  delight  to  shew 
himself  strong  with  you,  and  to  shield  you  in  the  midst  of  all  dangers, 
and  glorify  himself  by  you,  to  the  great  comfort  of  his  church,  and  the  dis- 
heartening of  his  enemies !  I  desire  your  grace  to  remember  my  respect  to 
your  wife,  humbly  thanking  you  both  for  your  undeserved  love. — ^Your 
Grace's  in  all  Christian  service,  to  be  commanded,  R.  Sibbs.* 

May  27. 

*  Ussher,  ante  xvi.  letter  ceccxxii. 


MEMOIB  OF  KICHAED  SIBBES,  D.D.  XCV 

We  have  a  series  of  prefaces,  in  union  with  John  Davenport, 
to  various  posthumous  works  of  Dr  John  Preston,  of  whom  I  have 
had  occasion  to  speak  repeatedly  in  this  memoir.  I  trust  that  the 
time  is  not  distant  when  we  shall  have  a  worthy  edition  of  his 
writings  to  place  beside  those  of  Sibbes.  No  books  had  such  a  wide, 
nay,  universal  audience  through  many  generations.  Edition  fol- 
lowed upon  edition,  and  now  it  is  not  easy  to  collect  them  all.  It 
is  mournful  to  think  how  Cambridge  neglects  her  most  illustrious 
sons  ! 

The  Preston  epistles  call  for  no  comment  beyond  an  explana- 
tory word.     I  give  them  in  order  : — 

I.  The  '  New  Covenant  or  Saint's  Portion.'  * 

Dedication. 
Ulustrissimis,  et  Honoratissimis  Viris,  Theophilo  Comiti  Lincohiiensi,  et 
Gulielmo  Vice- Comiti  Say  et  Sele,  Dominis  suis  submississime  colendis 
has  Johannis  Prestoni,  S.S.  Theol.  Doct.,  et  Collegii  Immanuelis  Magistri 
Primitias  Devotissimi,  Tarn  Authoris,  Dum  Viveret,  Quam  Ipsorum,  Qui 
Supersunt,  Obsequii  Testimonium,  L.M.D.D.D. 

KiCHAKDUS  SiBS. 

Johannes  Davenpokt. 

To  the  Reader. 

It  had  been  much  to  have  been  desired  (if  it  had  so  pleased  the  Father 
of  spirits),  that  this  worthy  man  had  survived  the  publishing  of  these  and 
other  his  lectiures ;  for  then,  no  doubt,  they  would  have  come  forth  more 
refined  and  digested ;  for,  though  there  was  very  little  or  no  mistake  in 
taking  them  from  his  mouth,  yet  preaching  and  writing  have  their  several 
graces.  Thmgs  Hvened  by  the  expression  of  the  speaker,  sometimes  take 
well,  which  after,  upon  a  mature  review,  seem  either  superfluous  or  flat. 
And  we  oft  see  men  very  able  to  render  theu:  conceits  in  writing,  yet  not 
the  happiest  speakers. 

Yet  we,  considering  (not  so  much  what  might  have  been,  as)  what  now 
may  be  for  the  service  of  the  church,  thought  good  rather  to  communicate 
them  thus,  than  that  they  should  die  with  the  author.  He  was  a  man  of 
an  exact  judgment  and  quick  apprehension,  an  acute  reasoner,  active  in 
good,  choice  m  his  notions  ;  one  who  made  it  his  chief  aim  to  promote  the 
cause  of  Christ  and  the  good  of  the  church,  which  moved  him  to  single  out 
arguments  answerable,  on  which  he  spent  his  best  thoughts.  He  was 
honoured  of  God  to  be  an  instrument  of  much  good,  whereunto  he  had 
advantage  by  those  emment  places  he  was  called  unto.     As  he  had  a  short 

*  The  New  Covenant,  or  the  Saint's  Portion  :  a  Treatise  unfolding  the  All-Suffi- 
ciency of  God,  Man's  Uprightness,  and  the  Covenant  of  Grace.  Delivered  in  four- 
teen  sermons  upon  Gen.  xvii.  1,  2;  wherennto  are  adjoined  four  sermons  upon 
Eccles.  ix.  1,  2,  11,  12.  By  the  late  faithful  and  worthy  minister  of  Jesus  Christ, 
John  Preston,  Dr  in  Divinity,  Chaplain  in  Ordinary  to  his  Majesty,  Master  of 
Emmanuel  College  in  Cambridge,  and  sometimes  preacher  of  Lincoln's  Inn.  The 
fourth  edition,  corrected.  '  He  hath  given  a  portion  to  them  that  fear  him  :  he  will 
ever  be  mindful  of  his  covenant,'  Ps.  cxi.  5,  London  :  Printed  by  I.  D.  for  Nicholas 
Bourne,  and  are  to  be  sold  at  the  south  entrance  of  the  Royal  Exchange    1630, 4to. 


Xcvi  MEMOIR  OF  RICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D. 

race  to  run,  so  he  made  speed,  and  did  much  in  a  Httle  time.  Though  he 
was  of  an  higher  elevation  and  strain  of  spirit  than  ordinary,  yet,  out  of 
love  to  do  good,  he  could  frame  his  conceits  so  as  might  suit  with  ordinary 
understandings.  A  little  before  his  death  (as  we  were  informed  by  the 
Ritrht  Honourable  the  Lord  Viscount  Say  and  Sele,  in  whose  piety,  wis- 
dom, and  fidelity  he  put  great  repose),  he  was  desirous  that  we  should 
peruse  what  of  his  was  fit  for  pubUc  use. 

We  are  not  ignorant  that  it  is  a  thing  subject  to  censure  to  seem  bold 
and  witty  in  another  man's  work,  and,  therefore,  as  little  is  altered  as  may 
be.  And  we  desire  the  reader  rather  to  take  in  good  part  that  which  is 
intended  for  public  good,  than  to  catch  at  imperfections,  considering  they 
were  but  taken  as  they  fell  from  him  speaking.  And  we  entreat  those  that 
have  anything  of  his  in  their  hands,  that  they  would  not  be  hasty,  for 
private  respects,  to  publish  them,  till  we,  whom  the  author  put  in  trust, 
have  perused  them.  We  pm-pose  (by  God's  help)  that  what  shall  be  judged 
fit  shall  come  forth.  We  send  forth  these  sermons  of  God's  All- Sufficiency, 
and  Man's  Uprightness,  and  the  Covenant  of  Grace  first,  as  being  first  pre- 
pared by  him  that  had  the  copies,  and  because  the  right  understanding  of 
these  points  hath  a  chief  influence  into  a  Christian  life.  The  Lord  give  a 
blessing  answerable,  and  continue  still  to  send  forth  such  faithful  labourers 
into  his  harvest ! 

Richard  Sibs. 

John  Davenport. 

II.  The  '  Breastplate  of  Faith  and  Love.'* 

Dedication. 
lUustrissimo,  Nobilissimoque  Viro,  Roberto  Comiti  Warwicensi,  Johannis 
Prestoni,  S.T.D.,  et  CoUegii  Immanuelis  Q.  f  Magistri  (cujus  tutelte,  dum 
in  vivis  esset,  Primogenitum  suum  in  Disciplinam  et  Literis  expoliendum 
tradidit),  posthumorum  tractatuum  partem  de  natura  fidei,  ejusque  effi- 
cacia,  deque  amore  et  operibus  bonis,  Devotissimi,  tam  authoris,  dum 
viveret,  quam  ipsorum  qui  supersunt,  obsequii  testimonium.     M.D.D.D. 

RiCHARDUs  Sibs. 
Johannes  Davenport. 

To  ike  Christian  Reader. 
Christian  Reader — Innumerable  are  the  sleights  of  Satan,  to  hinder  a 
Christian  in  his  course  towards  heaven,  by  exciting  the  coiTuption  of  his 
own  heart  to  disturb  him,  when  he  is  about  to  do  any  good ;  or  by  dis- 
couraging him  with  inward  terrors,  when  he  would  solace  himself  vfith 
heavenly  comfoi-ts  ;  or  by  disheartening  him  under  the  fears  of  sufferings, 

*  The  Breastplate  of  Faitli  and  Love.  A  treatise,  -wherein  the  ground  and  exercise 
of  faith  and  love,  as  they  are  set  upon  Christ  their  object,  and  as  they  are  expressed 
in  good  works,  is  explained.  Delivered  in  18  sermons  npon  three  several  texts,  by 
the  late  faithful  and  worthy  minister  of  Jesus  Christ,  John  Preston,  Dr  in  Divinity, 
chaplain  in  ordinary  to  his  Majesty,  Master  of  Emmanuel  College  in  Cambridge,  and 
sometimes  Preacher  of  Lincoln's  Inn.  The  fourth  edition.  '  But  let  us  who  are  of 
the  day  be  sober,  putting  on  the  breastplate  of  faith  and  bve,'  1  Thess.  v.  8.  '  What 
will  it  profit,  my  brethren,  if  a  man  say  he  have  faith,  and  hath  not  works?  Can 
faith  save  him?'  James  ii.  14.  Imprinted  at  London  by  R.  Y.  for  Nicholas  Bourne 
and  are  to  be  sold  at  the  south  entrance  of  the  Royal  Exchange.     1634. 

t  Qu-  '  quondam  ?' — Ed. 


MEMOIR  OF  RICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D.  XCvii 

when  he  should  be  resolute  in  a  good  cause.  A  type  whereof  were  the 
Israelites,  whose  servitude  was  redoubled  when  they  turned  themselves  to 
forsake  Egypt.  Wherefore  we  have  much  need  of  Chi-istian  fortitude, 
according  to  that  direction,  '  Watch  ye,  stand  fast,  quit  yourselves  like 
men,'  1  Cor.  xvi.  13 ;  especially  since  Satan,  hke  a  serpentine  crocodile 
pursued,  is  by  resistance  put  to  flight. 

But  as  in  wars  (which  the  Phihstines  knew  well  in  putting  their  hope  in 
Gohath)  the  chief  strength  of  the  soldiers  Heth  in  their  captain,  so  in  spiri- 
tual conflicts  all  a  Christian's  strength  is  in  Christ,  and  from  him.  For 
before  our  conversion  we  were  of  no  strength ;  since  our  conversion  we  are 
not  sufficient  of  ourselves  to  think  a  good  thought.  And  to  work  out  from 
the  saints  all  self-confidence,  God,  by  their  falls,  teacheth  them  '  to  rejoice 
in  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  to  have  no  confidence  in  the  flesh.' 

Whatsoever  Christ  hath  for  us,  is  made  ours  by  faith,  which  is  the  hand 
of  the  soul  enriching  it  by  receiving  Christ,  Avho  is  the  treasure  hid  in  the 
field,  and  with  him,  those  unsearchable  riches  of  grace,  which  are  revealed 
and  offered  in  the  gospel ;  yea,  it  is  part  of  our  spiritual  armour.  That 
which  was  fabulously  spoken  of  the  race  of  giants  is  truly  said  of  a  Chris- 
tian, he  is  born  with  his  armour  upon  him ;  as  soon  as  he  is  regenerate  he 
is  armed.  It  is  called  a  breastplate,  0woag,  1  Thess.  v.  8,  because  it 
preserves  the_  heart;  a  long,  large  shield,  Sv^shg  of  du^a,  Eph.  vi.  16  (as 
the  word  signifieth),  which  is  useful  to  defend  the  whole  man  from  all  sorts 
'  of  assaults.  ^  "Which  part  of  spiritual  armour,  and  how  it  is  to  be  managed, 
is  declared  in  the  former  part  of  the  ensuing  treatise,  in  ten  sermons. 

Now,  as  all  rivers  return  into  the  sea  whence  they  came,  so  the  believ- 
ing soul,  havmg  received  all  from  Christ,  returneth  all  to  Christ.  For 
thus  the  behever  reasoneth.  Was  God's  undeserved,  unexpected  love  such 
to  me  that  he  spared  not  his  only-begotten  Son,  but  gave  him  to  die  for 
me  •?  It  is  but  equal  that  I  should  Uve  to  him,  die  for  him,  bring  in  my 
strength,  time,  gifts,  liberty,  all  that  I  have,  all  that  I  am,  in  his  service, 
to  his  glory.  That  afi'ection,  whence  these  resolutions  arise,  is  called  love, 
which  so  inclineth  the  soul  that  it  moveth  in  a  direct  line  towards  that  ob- 
ject wherein  it  expecteth  contentment.  The  soul  is  miserably  deluded  in 
pursuing  the  wind,  and  is  taking  aim  at  a  flying  fowl,  whilst  it  seeks  hap- 
piness in  any  creature ;  which  appears  in  the  restlessness  of  those  h-regular 
agitations  and  endless  motions  of  minds  of  ambitious,  voluptuous,  and 
covetous  persons,  whose  frame  of  spirit  is  hke  the  lower  part  of  the 
elementary  region,  the  seat  of  wmds,  tempests,  and  earthquakes,  full  of 
unquietness  ;  whilst  the  behever's  soul,  like  that  part  towards  heaven 
which  is  always  peaceable  and  still,  enjoyeth  true  rest  and  joy.  And  in- 
deed the  perfection  of  our  spirits  cannot  be  but  in  union  with  the  chief  of 
spirits,  which  communicateth  his  goodness  to  the  creatm-e  according  to  its 
capacity.  This  afi'ection  of  love,  as  it  reflecteth  upon  Christ,  being  a  fruit 
and  efi"ect  of  his  love  to  us  apprehended  by  faith,  is  the  subject  of  the  second 
part  of  the  following  treatise,  in  seven  sermons. 

The  judicious  author,  out  of  a  piercing  insight  into  the  methods  of  the 
tempter,  knowing  upon  what  rocks  the  faith  of  many  sufiers  shipwreck ; 
that  neither  the  weak  Christian  might  lose  the  comfort  of  his  faith  through 
want  of  evidences,  nor  the  presumptuous  rest  upon  a  fancy  mstead  of  faith, 
nor  the  adversaries  be  emboldened  to  cast  upon  us,  by  reason  of  this  doc- 
trine of  justification  by  faith  only,  their  wonted  nicknames  of  Solifidians 
and  NuUifidians;  throughout  the  whole  treatise,  and  more  especially  in 
the  last  sermon,  he  discourseth  of  good  works  as  they  arise  from  faith  and 


XCVIU  MEMOIR  OF  RICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D. 

love.  This  is  the  sum  of  the  faithful  and  fruitful  labours  of  this  reverend, 
learned,  and  godly  minister  of  the  gospel,  who,  whilst  he  lived,  was  an  ex- 
ample of  the  life  of  faith  and  love,  and  of  good  works,  to  so  many  as  were 
acquainted  with  his  equal  and  even  walking  in  the  ways  of  God,  in  the 
several  turnings  and  occasions  of  his  life.  But  it  will  be  too  much  injury 
to  the  godly  reader  to  be  detained  longer  in  the  porch,  We  now  dismiss 
thee  to  the  reading  of  this  profitable  work,  beseeching  God  to  increase 
faith,  and  to  perfect  love  in  thy  heart,  that  thou  mayest  be  fruitful  in  good 
works. 

Thine  in  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  Eichard  Sibbs. 

John  Davenport. 

m.  The  Saint's  Daily  Exercise.  * 

To  the  Header. 

Courteous  Reader, — To  discourse  largely  of  the  necessity  and  use  of 
this  piece  of  spiritual  armour,  after  so  many  learned  and  useful  treatises 
upon  this  subject,  may  seem  superfluous,  especially  considering  that  there 
is  much  spoken  to  this  purpose,  for  thy  satisfaction,  in  the  ensuing  treatise, 
wherein,  besides  the  mifolding  of  the  nature  of  this  duty  (which  is  the 
saint's  daily  exercise),  and  strong  enforcement  to  it,  there  is  an  endeavour 
to  give  satisfaction  in  the  most  incident  cases,  want  of  clearing  whereof  is 
usually  an  hindrance  to  the  cheerful  and  ready  performance  thereof.  In 
all  which,  what  hath  been  done  by  this  reverend  and  worthy  man  we  had 
rather  should  appear  in  the  treatise  itself,  to  thy  indifierent  judgment,  than 
to  be  much  in  setting  down  our  own  opinion.  This  we  doubt  not  of,  that, 
by  reason  of  the  spiritual  and  convincing  manner  of  handling  this  argument, 
it  will  win  acceptance  with  many,  especially  considering  that  it  is  of  that 
nature  wherein,  though  much  have  been  spoken,  yet  much  more  may  be 
said  with  good  relish  to  those  that  have  any  spiritual  sense ;  for  it  is  the 
most  spiritual  action,  wherein  we  have  nearer  communion  with  God,  than 
in  any  other  holy  perfonnance,  and  whereby  it  pleaseth  God  to  convey  all 
good  to  us,  to  the  performance  whereof  Christians  find  most  backwardness 
and  indisposedness,  and  from  thence  most  dejection  of  spirit,  which  also  in 
these  times  is  most  necessary,  wherein,  unless  we  fetch  help  from  heaven 
this  way,  we  see  the  church  and  cause  of  God  Hke  to  be  trampled  under 
feet.  Only  remember,  that  we  let  these  sermons  pass  forth  as  they  were 
deUvered  by  himself  in  pubhc,  without  taking  that  liberty  of  adding  or  de- 
tracting, which  perhaps  some  would  have  thought  meet ;  for  we  thought  it 
best  that  his  own  meaning  should  be  expressed  in  his  own  words  and 
manner,  especially  considering  there  is  little  which  perhaps  may  seem  super- 
fluous to  some,  but  may,  by  God's  blessing,  be  useful  to  others.  It  would 
be  a  good  prevention  of  many  inconveniences  in  this  kind,  if  able  men 
would  be  persuaded  to  publish  their  own  works  in  thefr  lifetime ;  yet  we 
think  it  a  good  service  to  the  church  when  that  defect  is  supplied  by  giving 

*  The  Saiut's  Daily  Exercise ;  a  Treatise  unfolding  the  whole  Duty  of  Prayer. 
Delivered  in  five  sermons  upon  1  Thes.  v.  17.  By  the  late  faithful  and  worthy 
minister  of  Jesus  Christ,  John  Preston,  Dr  in  Divinity,  Chaplain  in  Ordinary  to  hia 
Majesty,  Master  of  Emmanuel  College  in  Cambridge,  and  sometime  Preacher  of 
Lincoln's  Inn.  The  fourth  edition,  corrected.  '  The  effectual  fervent  prayer  of  a 
righteous  man  availeth  much,'  James  v.  16.  '  If  I  regard  iniquity  in  my  heart,  tne 
Lord  will  not  hear  my  prayer,'  Ps.  Ixvi.  18.  London  :  Printed  by  W.  I.  for  Nicholas 
Bourne,  and  are  to  be  sold  at  the  south  entrance  of  the  Koyal  Exchange.  1630.  4to. 


MEMOIR  OF  RICHAKD  SIBBES,  D.D.  Xcix 

some  life  to  those  things,  which  otherwise  would  have  died  of  themselves. 
The  blessing  of  these  labours  of  his  we  commend  unto  God,  and  the  benefit 
of  them  unto  thee,  resting  thine  in  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 

KiCHAED  SiBS. 

John  Davenport. 
IV.  The  Saints'  Quahfication.  * 

Dedication. 
niustrissimo,  Nobilissimo  Viro,  Philippo,  Pembrochi^,  et  Montis 
Gomerici  _  Comiti,  Baroni  Herbert* de  Cardiffa  et  Sherland,  Ordinis  Gar- 
terii  Equiti,  Regiae  Domus  Camerario,  Regime  Majestati  a  Secretioribus 
Consiliis,  &c.,  triplicem  hunc  Johannis  Prestoni,  S.S.,  Theologite  Doct. 
CoUeg.  ImmanueHs  Nuper  Magist.  et  Regia3  Majest.  a  Sacris,  Traetatum, 
de  Humiliatione,  Nova  Creatura,  Praeparatione  ad  Sacram  Synaxin,  in 
Devotissimffi,  Tarn  authoris,  quam  Ipsorum,  Observantise  Testimonium. 
L.M.D.D.D. 

RiCHAEDUS  SiBS. 

Joannes  Davenport. 
To  the  Christian  Reader. 

The  good  acceptance  the  sermons  of  this  worthy  man  have  found  amongst 
well-disposed  Christians,  hath  made  us  the  willinger  to  give  way  to  the 
publishing  of  these,  as  coming  from  the  same  author.  The  good  they  may 
thus  do  prevails  more  for  the  sending  of  them  forth  than  some  imperfec- 
tions (that  usually  accompany  the  taking  of  other  men's  speeches)  may  do 
to  suppress  them.  Something  may  well  be  yielded  to  pubhc  good  in  things 
not  altogether  so  as  we  wish.  They  are  enforced  upon  none  that  shall  except 
agamst  them,  they  may  either  read  or  refuse  them  at  their  pleasure.  The 
argument  of  them  is  such  as  may  draw  the  more  regard,  being  of  matters 
of  necessary  and  perpetual  use. 

For  '  Humiliation'  we  never  so  deeply  see  into  the  grounds  of  it  (sinful- 
ness of  nature  and  Hfe) ;  or,  so  far  as  we  see,  look  upon  it  with  that  eye  of 
detestation  we  should;  and  therefore  a  holy  heart  desireth  still  further 
light  to  be  brought  in,  to  discover  whatsoever  may  hinder  communion 
with  God,  and  is  glad  when  sin  is  made  loathsome  unto  it,  as  being  its 
greatest  enemy,  that  doth  more  hurt  than  all  the  world  besides,  and  the 
only  thing  that  divides  between  our  chief  good  and  us.  As  this  humiha- 
tion  mcreaseth,  so  in  the  like  proportion  all  other  graces  increase  ;  for  the 
more  we  are  emptied  of  ourselves,  the  more  we  are  filled  with  the  fuhiess 
of  God.     The  defects  of  this  appear  in  the  whole  frame  of  a  Chi-istian  life, 

*  The  Saints'  Qualification:  or,  a  treatise— 1,  of  humiliation,  in  ten  sermons; 
2,  of  sanctification,  in  nine  sermons;  whereunto  is  added  a  treatise  of  communion 
with  Christ  in  the  sacrament,  in  three  sermons.  Preached  by  the  late  faitliful  and 
worthy  minister  of  Jesus  Christ,  John  Preston,  Doctor  in  Divinity,  chaplain  in 
ordinary  to  his  majesty,  master  of  Emmanuel  College  in  Camhridge,  and  sometime 
preacher  of  Lincoln's  Inn.  The  third  edition,  corrected.  '  AVhen  men  are  cast 
down,  then  thou  shalt  say,  There  is  lifting  up :  and  he  shall  save  the  humblo 
person,'  Job  xxii.  29.  '  Cast  away  from  you  all  your  transgressions,  whereby  ye  have 
transgressed,  and  make  you  a  new  heart,  and  a  new  spirit,'  &c.,  Ezek  xviii.  31. 
'  He  that  eats  my  flesh  and  drinks  my  blood,  dwelleth  in  me  and  I  in  him,'  John 
v:.  56.  London  ;  Printed  by  R.  B.  for  N.  Bourne,  and  are  to  be  sold  by  T.  Nicholea 
at  the  Bible  in  Pope's -head  Alley.     1637.     4to 

VOL.  I.  •  ^ 


0  MEMOIB  OF  KICHAED  SIBBES,  D.D. 

which  is  so  far  unsound  as  we  retain  anything  of  corrupted  self,  unhumbled 
for. 

The  foundation  of  Christianity  is  laid  very  low ;  and  therefore  the  trea- 
tise of  'Humiliation'  is  well  premised  before  that  of  the  'New  Creature.' 
God  will  build  upon  nothing  in  us.  We  must  be  nothing  in  ourselves 
before  we  be  raised  up  for  a  fit  temple  for  God  to  dwell  in,  whose  course  is 
to  pull  down  before  he  build.  Old  things  must  be  out  of  request  before 
all  become  new ;  and  without  this  newness  of  the  whole  man  from  union 
with  Christ,  no  interest  in  the  new  heavens  can  be  hoped  for,  whereinto 
no  defiled  thing  shall  enter,  as  altogether  unsuitable  to  that  condition  and 
place.  Nothing  is  in  request  with  God  but  this  new  creature,  all  things 
else  are  adjudged  to  the  fire ;  and  without  this  it  had  been  better  be  no 
creature  at  all.  By  this  we  may  judge  of  the  usefulness  of  discourses 
tending  this  way.  One  thing  more  thou  art  to  be  advertised  of  (courteous 
reader),  and  that  is,  of  the  injurious  dealing  of  such  as  for  private  gain 
have  published  what  they  can  get,  howsoever  taken,  without  any  acquaint- 
ing either  of  those  fi-iends  of  the  author's  that  resided  in  Cambridge  (to 
whose  care  he  left  the  publishing  of  those  things  that  were  delivered  there) 
or  of  us,  to  whom  he  committed  the  publishing  of  what  should  be  thought 
fit  for  public  view  of  that  which  was  preached  in  London.  Hereby  not 
only  wi'ong  is  done  to  others,  but  to  the  deceased  likewise,  by  mangling 
and  misshaping  the  birth  of  his  brain ;  and  therefore  once  again  we  desire 
men  to  forbear  pubUshing  of  anything  until  those  that  were  entrusted  have 
the  review.     And  so  we  commit  the  treatise  and  thee  to  God's  blessing. 

Richard  Sibs. 

John  Davenport. 

In  1 632,  Sibbes  introduced  to  the  world  the  excellent  folio  of 
John  Smith  on  '  The  Creed,'  *  and  the  v?ell-known  and  still  vital 
treatise  of  John  Ball  on  '  Faith.' -f*  John  Smith  was  'preacher  of 
the  word  at  Clavering  in  Essex.'  He  succeeded  Bishop  Andrewes 
as  lecturer  in  St  Paul's  Cathedral.  Anthony  Wood  speaks  of  him 
as  being  skilled  in  the  original  languages,  and  well  acquainted  with 
the  writings  of  the  ablest  divines.     He  died  in  November  1616.+ 

*  An  Exposition  of  the  Creed  ;  or,  an  Explanation  of  the  Articles  of  our  Christian 
Faith.  Delivered  in  many  afternoon  sermons,  by  that  reverend  and  worthy  divine, 
Master  John  Smith,  late  preacher  of  the  Word  at  Clavering  in  Essex,  and  sometime 
Fellow  of  St  John's  College,  in  Oxford.  Now  published  for  the  benefit  and  behoof 
of  all  good  Christians,  together  with  an  exact  table  of  all  the  chiefest  doctrines  and 
uses  throughout  the  whole  book.  'Uprightness  hath  boldness.'  Heb.  xi.  6,  'But 
without  faith  it  is  impossible  to  please  him  :  for  he  that  cometh  unto  God  must  be- 
lieve that  he  is,  and  that  he  is  a  re  warder  of  them  that  diligently  seek  him.'  At 
London :  Imprinted  by  Felix  Kyngston,  for  Eobert  Allot,  and  are  to  be  sold  at  hia 
shop,  at  the  sign  of  the  Black  Bear,  in  Paul's  Churchyard.     1632. 

t  A  Treatise  of  Faith.  Divided  into  Two  Parts,  the  first  shewing  the  Nature,  the 
second  the  Life  of  Faith,  both  tending  to  direct  the  weak  Christian  how  he  may  pos- 
sess the  whole  word  of  God  as  his  own,  overcome  temptations,  better  his  obedience, 
and  live  comfortably  in  all  estates.  By  John  Ball.  Hah.  ii.  4,  '  The  just  shall 
live  by  his  faith.'  The  third  edition,  corrected  and  enlarged.  London  :  Printed  by 
Robert  Young,  for  Edward  Brewster,  and  are  to  be  sold  at  his  shop,  at  the  sign  of 
the  Bible,  upon  Fleet  Bridge.     1637.     4to. 

X  Wood's  Athensij  (ed.  by  Bliss),  ii.  188.    And  see  Chalmers's  Biog.  Diet.,  sub.  voce 


MEMOIR  OF  RICHAED  SIBBES,  D.D.  CI 

So  far  as  I  have  been  able  to  read  his  folio,  I  must  regard  Sibbes's 
Introduction  as  its  most  valuable  feature.  Pearson,  indeed,  over- 
shadows all  such  works.  John  Ball  has  been  very  lovingly  written 
of  by  very  many.  Wood  and  Clarke,  Thomas  Fuller,  and  Richard 
Baxter,  and  Simeon  Ash  join  in  speaking  '  well '  of  him.  His 
books,  larger  and  smaller,  are  worthy  of  a  place  beside  those  of 
Sibbes.  His  'Power  of  Godliness'  (1657),  a  thin  folio,  is  marked 
by  extraordinary  acquaintance  with  the  workings  of  the  human 
heart.  There  are  touches  of  weird  subtlety,  and  one  in  reading 
can  easily  understand  the  stillness  of  his  auditory.  His  treatise 
on  '  Faith '  is  rich  and  practical.*  With  these  few  words,  let  us 
turn  to  the  two  '  episth  ■' : ' — ■ 
I.  Smith  on  the  Creed. 

To  the  Christian  Reader. 

It  is  available,  for  the  better  entertainment  of  this  work,  to  know  some- 
thing concerning  the  author,  concerning  the  work  itself,  and  concerning  the 
argument;  for  the  author,  my  acquaintance  with  him  was  especially  towards 
the  declining  part  of  his  years,  at  what  time  (as  they  speak  of  the  sun  towards 
setting)  the  light  and  influence  which  comes  from  worthy  men  is  most  miki 
and  comfortable.  The  gifts  of  men  then,  perhaps,  are  not  so  flourishing  as 
in  their  younger  time,  but  yet  more  mature,  and  what  cometh  from  them  is 
better  digested.  In  the  prime  of  his  years  he  was  trained  up  in  St  John's 
College,  in  Oxford,  being  there  Fellow  of  the  House,  and  for  piety  and 
parts  esteemed  highly  in  the  University  of  those  that  excelled  in  both. 
Afterwards  he  grew  to  that  note  that  he  was  chosen  to  read  the  lecture  in 
Paul's,  succeeding  thereia  that  great,  learned  man.  Doctor  Andrewes,  late 
Lord  Bishop  of  Winchester,  which  he  discharged  not  only  to  the  satisfac- 
tion, but  to  the  applause  of  the  most  judicious  and  learned  hearers,  wit- 
nessed by  their  frequency  and  attention.  Not  long  after  he  was  removed 
to  a  pastoral  charge  in  Clavering,  in  Essex,  where  being  fixed  till  his  death, 
he  shined  as  a  star  in  his  proper  sphere. 

This  good  man's  aim  was  to  convey  himself  by  all  manner  of  ways  into 
the  heart,  which  made  him  willingly  heard  of  all  sorts ;  for  witty  things 
only,  as  they  are  spoken  to  the  brain,  so  they  rest  ia  the  brain,  and  sink 
no  deeper  ;  but  the  heart  (which  vain  and  obnoxious  men  love  not  to  be 
touched),  that  is  the  mark  a  faithful  teacher  aims  to  hit.  But  because  the 
way  to  come  to  the  heart  is  often  to  pass  through  the  fancy,  therefore  this 
godly  man  studied  by  hvely  representations  to  help  men's  faith  by  the 
fancy.  It  was  our  Saviour  Christ's  manner  of  teaching  to  express  heavenly 
things  in  an  earthly  manner ;  and  it  was  the  study  of  the  wise  man,  Solo- 
mon, becoming  a  preacher,  to  find  out  pleasant  words,  or  words  of  dehght, 
Eccles.  xii.  10.  But  when  aU  pains  are  taken  by  the  man  of  God,  people 
wiU  relish  what  is  spoken  according  as  their  taste  is.  It  falleth  out  here 
as  it  doth  ia  a  garden,  wherein  some  walk  for  present  delight,  some  carry 
flowers  away  with  them  to  refresh  them  for  a  time  ;  some,  as  bees,  gather 
honey,  which  they  feed  on  long  afterwards ;  some,  spider-like,  come  to 
suck  that  which  may  feed  that  malignant  and  venomous  disposition  that 
they  bring  with  them.  There  cannot  be  a  better  character  of  a  man  than 
*  Consult  Brook,  '  Lives  of  the  Puritans,'  ii.  440,  seq. 


cii  MEMOIR  OF  RICHARD  SIBBES,  D,D. 

.to  observe  what  lie  relishetli  most  in  hearing;  for  as  men  are,  so  they 
taste,  so  they  judge,  so  they  speak.  Ezekiel,  besides  prophetical  gifts  fit  for 
so  high  a  calling,  had  no  doubt  a  delightful  manner  of  expression  of  him- 
self, whereupon  the  wickeder  sort  of  Jews,  engaged  in  sinful  courses,  came 
to  hear  him  but  as  a  musician  to  please  their  ears,  neglecting  the  authority 
of  his  person  and  the  weight  of  his  message,  Ezek.  xxxiii.  32.  It  is  no 
wonder,  therefore,  if  in  these  days  people  stick  in  the  bark  and  neglect  the 
pith ;  though  sometimes  it  falleth  out  with  some,  as  with  Augustine  hear- 
ing Ambrose,  whilst  they  bite  at  the  bait  of  some  pleasing  notions,  they  are, 
at  the  same  time,  catched  with  the  Spmt's  hook. 

He  was  skilful  in  the  original  languages,  and  thereupon  an  excellent 
textman,  well  read  in  writers  that  were  of  note  in  the  several  ages  of  the 
church,  which  made  him  a  well  furnished  and  able  divine.  His  judgment 
was  clear  and  his  conscience  tender,  and,  which  helped  him  most,  he 
brought  to  the  gi-eat  work  of  the  ministry  an  holy  and  gracious  heart,  which 
raised  and  carried  him  to  aims  above  himself  and  the  world.  In  his  con- 
versing he  was  modest,  fruitful,  wise,  and  winning ;  in  his  expressions  witty 
and  graceful,  insomuch  that  he  hath  left  a  fresh  and  sweet  remembrance  of 
them  to  this  day.  Towards  his  end  he  grew  more  spiritual,  setting  light  by 
all  things  here  below,  and  only  waited  (as  his  expression  was)  for  the  coming 
of  the  Comforter ;  at  length,  his  work  being  finished,  breathing  out  his  life 
with  that  wish  of  the  spouse,  '  Yea,  come,  Lord  Jesus,'  Rev.  sxii.  20.  Thus 
much  I  thought  not  unfit  to  be  made  known  of  the  man. 

Now,  for  the  work  itself,  it  must  be  considered  by  the  learned  reader  that 
these  things  were  spoken,  though  to  a  people  high-raised  in  knowledge, 
and  more  refined  than  ordinary  by  his  teaching,  yet  to  the  people,  not  with 
a  puipose  that  they  should  come  to  the  view  and  censure  of  the  learned. 
But  though  they  were  delivered  to  the  people,  yet  are  they  not  so  popular, 
but  (if  my  love  to  the  man  and  the  work  deceive  me  not)  they  will  leave 
the  best  reader  either  more  learned  or  more  holy,  or  both.  It  must,  there- 
fore, be  remembered,  for  the  more  favom-able  acceptation  of  this  work,  that 
these  sermons  were  taken  by  one  of  his  parish,  a  man,  though  pious  and  of 
good  parts,  yet  not  skilful  in  the  learned  languages ;  and  therefore  it  must 
needs  be  that  many  apt  and  acute  sentences  of  the  fathers,  by  which  this 
learned  man  did  use  to  beautify  and  strengthen  the  pomts  he  delivered,  are 
fallen  to  the  ground  and  lost,  for  lack  of  skill  to  take  up.  But  howso- 
ever much  of  the  spirits  be  lost,  yet  here  you  have  the  corpse  and  bulk  of 
the  discourse,  and  not  wathout  some  life  and  vigour,  wherein  this  is  peculiar 
in  his  manner  of  handling,  that  he  hath  chosen  fit  texts  of  Scripture  to 
ground  his  exposition  of  every  article  upon. 

Now,  for  the  argument  itself,  the  Creed,  I  think  it  fit  to  premise  some- 
thing, because  it  hath  been  omitted  by  the  author,  or  at  least  not  gathered 
with  the  rest.  The  Creed  is  of  middle  authority,  between  divine  and 
human,  and  called  the  Apostles'  Creed,  not  only  for  consanguinity  with  the 
apostles'  doctrine,  but  because  it  is  taken  out  of  the  apostles'  writings,  and 
therefore  of  greatest  authority  next  to  the  Scriptures.  It  is  nothing  else 
but  a  summary  comprehension  of  the  counsel  and  work  of  God  concerning 
our  supernatural  condition  here  and  hereafter.  The  doctrine  of  salvation 
is  spread  thi'ough  the  Scriptures  as  spirits  in  the  arteries  and  blood  in  the 
veins,  as  the  soul  in  the  body.  And  here,  for  easier  carriage,  the  most 
necessary  pomts  are  gathered  together,  as  so  many  pearls  or  precious 
stones,  that  we  might  have  a  ready  use  of  them  upon  all  occasions,  being, 
as  it  were,  a  little  Bible  or  Testament  that  Christians  of  all  ranks,  as  suited 


MEMOIR  OF  EICHAKD  SIBBES,  D.D.  ClU 

for  all  conditions,  may  bear  about  with  them  everywhere  without  any 
trouble.  In  eveiy  article  there  is  both  a  shallow  and  a  depth,  milk  for 
babes  and  meat  for  strong  men.  Though  there  be  no  growth  in  regard  of 
fundamental  principles  (which  have  been  alike  in  all  ages  of  the  church), 
yet  there  hath  and  will  be  a  proficiency  in  regard  of  conclusions  drawn  out 
of  those  principles.  The  necessities  of  every  Christian,  and  the  springing  up 
of  unsound  opinions  in  the  church,  will  continually  enforce  diligence  and 
care  in  the  further  explication  and  application  of  these  fundamental  truths. 

It  will  not,  therefore,  be  amiss  to  set  down  a  few  directions  for  the  more 
clear  understanding  of  the  Creed,  and  for  the  better  making  use  of  it.  And 
first,  for  the  understanding  of  it,  it  hath  the  name  of  Creed  or  Behef,  from 
the  act  exercised  about  it,  to  shew  that  it  doth  not  only  contain  doctrine  to 
be  believed,  but  that  that  doctrine  will  do  us  no  good  unless,  by  mingling  it 
with  our  faith,  we  make  it  our  belief.  Therefore,  both  the  act  and  the  object 
are  implied  in  one  word,  Belief.  Secondly  :  From  the  execution  in  crea- 
tion and  incarnation  we  must  arise  to  God's  decree ;  nothing  done  in  time 
which  was  not  decreed  before  all  times,  '  Kjiown  unto  the  Lord  are  all  his 
works  from  the  beginning  of  the  world,'  Acts  xv.  18.  Thirdly:  We  must 
arise  from  one  principal  benefit  to  all  that  follow  and  accompany  it,  as  in 
forgiveness  of  sins,  follow  righteousness,  peace,  and  joy,  the  spirit  of 
sanctification.  Christian  liberty,  &c.  Though  the  articles  be  nakedly  pro 
pounded,  yet  are  we  to  believe  all  the  fruits  and  privileges.  So  to  God's 
creating  of  heaven  and  earth  we  must  join  his  providence  in  upholding  and 
ruling  all  things  in  both.  Fourthly  :  In  the  consequent  we  are  to  under- 
stand all  that  went  before  by  way  of  cause  or  preparation,  as  in  the  crucify- 
ing of  Christ,  his  preceding  agony  and  the  cause  of  it,  our  sins,  and  the 
love  of  God  and  Christ  in  those  sufferings,  &c.  Fifthly :  Though  we  are  to 
believe  circumstances  as  well  as  the  thing  itself,  yet  not  with  the  same 
necessity  of  faith,  as  it  is  more  necessary  to  believe  that  Christ  was  cruci- 
fied than  that  it  was  under  Pontius  PUate ;  though  when  any  circumstance 
is  revealed  we  ought  to  believe  it,  and  to  have  a  preparation  of  mind  to 
believe  whatsoever  shall  be  revealed.  Yet  in  the  main  points  this  preparation 
of  mind  is  not  sufficient,  but  there  must  be  a  present  and  an  expressed  faith. 
We  must  know  that,  as  in  the  law,  he  that  breaketh  one  commandment 
breaketh  all,  because  all  come  from  the  same  authority;  so,  in  the  grounds 
of  faith,  he  that  denies  one  in  the  true  sense  of  it  denies  all,  for  both  law 
and  faith  are  copulatives.  The  singling  out  of  an3rthing  is  contrary  to  the 
obedience  of  faith.     Fides  non  eligit  ohjectum. 

For  particular  and  daily  use,  we  must  know,  first,  that  every  article  re- 
quires a  particular  faith,  not  only  in  regard  of  the  person  believing,  but 
likewise  in  regard  of  the  application  of  the  article  believed ;  or  else  the 
devil  might  say  the  creed,  for  he  believes  there  is  a  Creator,  and  that  there 
is  a  remission  of  sins,  &c. ;  but  because  he  hath  no  share  in  it,  it  enrageth 
him  the  more.  Our  adversaries  are  great  enemies  to  particular  faith,  and 
think  we  coin  a  thirteenth  article  when  we  enforce  particular  assm-ance, 
because,  say  they,  particular  men  are  not  named  in  the  Scripture,  and  what 
is  not  in  Scripture  cannot  be  a  matter  of  faith.  But  there  is  a  double 
faith,  a  faith  which  is  the  doctrine  we  do  believe,  and  faith  which  is  the 
grace  whereby  we  believe  ;  and  this  faith  is  a  matter  of  experience  wrought 
in  our  hearts  by  the  Spirit  of  God.  It  is  sufficient  that  that  fixith  which 
we  do  believe  is  contained  in  the  Scriptures.  Now  whereas  they  object 
that  we  make  it  a  thirteenth  article,  their  fourteenth  apostle  adds  to* these 
twelve  many  more  articles  of  faith,  which  he  enforceth  to  be  beUeved,  with 


CIV  3HEM0IE  OF  BICHABD  SIBBES,  D.D. 

the  same  necessity  of  faith  as  these  twelve ;  neither  hath  he  only  entered 
upon  Christ's  prerogative  in  minting  new  articles  of  faith,  but  likewise  they 
have  usurped  over  all  Christian  churches  by  adding  Roman  to  the  catholic 
chm-ch  in  the  creed.     A  bold  imposture  ! 

But  for  special  faith,  the  main  office  of  the  Holy  Spirit  is  in  opening 
general  truths,  to  reveal  our  particular  interest  in  those  truths,  and  to 
breed  special  faith  whereby  we  make  them  our  own,  because  the  Spirit  of 
God  reveals  the  mind  of  God  to  every  particular  Christian,  1  Cor.  ii.  11,  12  ; 
for  as  the  things  believed  are  truths  above  nature,  so  the  grace  of  faith 
whereby  we  believe  is  a  grace  above  nature,  created  as  a  supernatural  eye 
in  the  soul,  to  see  supernatural  truths. 

Secondly,  Where  sacred  truths  are  truly  apprehended,  there  the  Spirit 
works  an  impression  in  the  soul  suitable  to  the  things  believed  ;  every 
article  hath  a  power  in  it  which  the  Spirit  doth  imprint  upon  the  soul. 
The  belief  of  God  to  be  the  Father  Almighty  breeds  an  impression  of  de- 
pendence, reverence,  and  comfort.  The  belief  and  knowledge  of  Christ  cru- 
cified is  a  crucifying  knowledge.  The  true  knowledge  and  faith  in  Christ 
rising,  is  a  raising  knowledge.  The  knowledge  of  the  abasement  of  Christ 
is  an  abasing  knowledge  ;  because  faith  sees  itself  one  with  Christ  in  both 
states.  We  cannot  truly  believe  what  Christ  hath  wrought  for  us,  but  at 
the  same  time  the  Spirit  of  Christ  worketh  something  in  us. 

Thirdly  ,^  It  is  convenient  for  the  giving  of  due  honour  to  every  person  to 
consider  of  the  work  appropriated  to  every  one  :  all  come  from  the  Father  ; 
all  are  exactly  performed  by  the  Son  ia  our  natiu'e  for  the  redemption  of 
those  that  the  Father  hath  given  him.  The  gathering  out  of  the  world  of 
that  blessed  society  (which  we  call  the  chui'ch)  into  an  holy  communion, 
and  the  sanctifying  of  it,  and  sealing  unto  it  all  the  privileges  beheved, 
as  forgiveness  of  sins,  resiirrectiou  of  the  bod}',  and  life  everlasting,  &c., 
proceed  from  the  Holy  Ghost. 

Foui-thly,  It  has  pleased  the  great  God  to  enter  into  a  treaty  and  cove- 
nant of  agreement  with  us  his  poor  creatures,  the  articles  of  which  agree- 
ment are  here  comprised.  God,  for  his  part,  undertakes  to  convey  all  that 
concerns  our  happiness,  upon  our  receiving  of  them,  by  believing  on  him. 
Every  one  in  particular  that  recites  these  articles  from  a  spirit  of  faith 
makes  good  this  condition,  and  this,  is  that  answer  of  a  good  conscience, 
which  Peter  speaks  of,  1  Pet.  iii,  whereby  being  demanded  what  our  faith 
is,  every  one  in  particular  answers  to  every  article,  I  beheve ;  I  not  only 
understand  and  conceive  it,  but  assent  unto  it  in  my  judgment  as  true,  and 
consent  to  it  in  my  wiU  as  good,  and  build  my  comfort  upon  it  as  good  to 
me  :  this  act  of  behef  carries  the  whole  soul  with  it. 

Fifthly,  Though  it  is  we  that  answer,  yet  the  power  by  which  we  answer 
is  no  less  than  that  whereby  God  created  the  world  and  raised  Christ  from 
the  dead.  The  answer  is  ours,  but  the  power  and  strength  is  God's, 
whereby  we  answer,  who  performs  both  his  part  and  om-s  too  in  the  cove- 
nant. It  is  a  higher  matter  to  beheve  than  the  common  sort  think  it. 
For  this  answer  of  faith  to  these  truths,  as  it  is  caused  by  the  power  of  God's 
Spirit,  so  is  it  powerful  to  answer  all  temptations  of  Satan,  all  seducements 
of  the  world,  all  terrors  of  conscience  fi'om  the  wrath  of  God  and  the  curse 
of  the  law  ;  it  setteth  the  soul  as  upon  a  rock  above  all. 

Sixthly,  These  articles  are  a  touchstone  at  hand  to  try  all  opinions  by, 
for  crooked  things  are  discerned  by  bringing  them  to  the  rule.  What 
directly,  or  by  immediate  and  mere  consequence,  opposeth  these,  is  to  be 
rejected  as  contrary  to  the  platform  of  wholesome  doctrine.     That  ono 


MEMOIR  OF  EICHAKD  SEBBES,  D.D  CV 

monster  of  opinions,  of  the  bread  into  tlie  body  of  Christ  by  transubstan- 
tiation,  overthrows  at  once  four  articles  of  the  Creed — the  incarnation  of 
Christ,  ascension,  sitting  at  the  right  hand  of  God,  and  coming  to  judgment; 
for  if  Christ's  body  be  so  often  made  of  a  piece  of  bread,  being  in  so  many 
places  at  once  here  upon  earth,  how  can  aU  these  articles  be  true  ? 

Again,  seventhly.  These  grounds  of  faith  have  likewise  a  special  influence 
in  direction  and  encouragement  unto  all  Christian  duties.  A  holy  life  is 
but  the  infusion  of  holy  truths.  Augustine  saith  well,  Non  bene  vivitur,  ubi 
bene  de  Deo  non  creditur:  men  of  an  ill  belief,  cannot  be  of  a  good  life  ; 
whereupon  the  apostles'  method  is,  to  build  their  exhortations  to  Christian 
duties  upon  the  grounds  of  Christian  faith.  But  we  must  remember,  that 
as  faith  yields  a  good  life  and  conscience,  so  a  conscience  is  the  vessel  to 
preserve  the  doctrine  of  faith,  else  a  shipwreck  of  faith  will  follow.  If  there 
be  a  deHghting  in  imrighteousness,  there  will  not  be  a  love  of  the  truth ; 
and  if  we  love  not  the  truth,  then  there  will  be  a  preparedness  to  believe 
any  he,  and  that  by  God's  just  judgment,  2  Thes.  ii.  12. 

Eighthly.  As  these  fundamental  truths  yield  strength  to  the  whole  frame 
of  a  Christian  life,  so  they  are  so  many  springs  and  wells  of  consolation  for 
God's  people  to  draw  from ;  whereupon  that  good  Prince  George  Anhalt 
(who  in  Luther's  time  became  a  preacher  of  the  gospel),  intending  to  com- 
fort his  brother  Prince  John,  raiseth  his  comfort  from  the  last  three  articles 
— remission  of  sins,  resurrection  of  the  body,  and  life  everlasting ;  which, 
as  they  have  their  strength  from  the  former  articles,  are  able  to  raise  any 
drooping  spirit,  and  therefore  in  the  greatest  agonies  it  is  the  readiest  way 
to  suck  comfort  from  these  benefits.  But  I  omit  other  things,  intending 
only  to  say  something  by  way  of  preface.  And  thus,  good  reader,  I  com- 
mend this  work  unto  thee,  and  both  it  and  thee  to  God's  blessing. 

Thine  in  the  Lord,  R.  Sibbes. 

n.  BaU  on  '  Faith.' 

The  Preface  to  the  Reader. 

Glorious  things  are  spoken  of  the  grace  of  graces  (faith)  in  the  Scrip- 
tures, God  setting  himself  to  honour  that  grace  that  yields  up  aU  the  hon- 
our unto  him  in  Christ :  who  indeed  is  the  life  of  our  life,  and  the  soul  of 
our  soul.  Faith  only  as  the  bond  of  union  bringeth  Christ  and  the  soul 
together,  and  is  as  an  artery  that  conveys  the  spirit  from  him  as  the  heart, 
and  as  the  sinews  which  convey  the  spirit  to  move  all  duty  from  him  as 
head,  whence  St  Paul  maketh  Christ's  living  in  us,  and  our  li-vdng  by  faith 
all  one.  Gal.  ii.  20.  Now  that  which  giveth  boldness  and  liberty  to  faith, 
is  not  only  God's  assignment  of  this  ofiice  to  it  in  the  covenant  of  grace  to 
come  unto  Christ,  and  unto  him  in  Christ,  to  receive  grace,  but  likewise 
the  gracious  promises  whereby  the  great  God  hath  engaged  himself  as  a 
debtor  to  his  poor  creature,  for  all  things  needful  to  life  and  godliness,  until 
that  blessed  time  when  we  shall  be  put  into  a  full  possession  of  aU  things 
we  have  now  only  in  promise,  when  faith  shall  end  in  fr-uition,  and  pro- 
mises in  performances. 

Faith  first  looks  to  this  word  of  promise,  and  in  the  promise  to  Christ, 
in  whom  and  for  whom  they  are  yea  and  amen,  both  made  and  performed. 
And  in  Christ  it  eyeth  God  in  whom  it  last  resteth,  as  its  proper  centre  and 
foundation  ;  otherwise  how  should  we  weak  sinful  creatures  dare  to  have  any 
intercourse  with  God  that  dwelleth  in  that  light  that  none  can  attain  unto, 
if  he  had  not  come  forth  and  discovered  his  good  pleasure  in  Christ  the 
substantial  Word,  and  in  the  word  inspired  by  the  Holy  Ghost  for  the  good 


CVl  MEMOIR  OF  RICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D. 

of  tliose  whom  God  meant  for  to  make  heirs  of  salvation  ?  Now  these  pro- 
mises whereon  all  our  present  comfort  and  future  hope  dependeth  he  hid  in 
the  Scriptures,  as  veins  of  gold  and  silver  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  and 
had  need  be  laid  open,  that  God's  people  may  know  what  upon  good  grounds 
to  lay  claim  unto.  Those,  therefore,  that  search  these  mines  to  bring  tc? 
light  these  treasures,  deserve  well  of  God's  church.  We  commend  (ant' 
not  without  cause)  the  witty  industry  of  those  that  from  springs  remote 
bring  rivers  to  cities,  and  by  pipes  from  these  rivers  derive  water  to  every 
man's  house  for  all  domestical  services ;  much  more  should  we  esteem  of 
the  religious  pains  of  men  that  brings  these  waters  of  life  home  for  every 
man's  particular  use,  in  all  the  passages  and  turnings  of  this  life. 

In  which  regard,  I  do  not  doubt,  but  the  pains  of  this  godly,  painful, 
and  learned  man  will  find  good  entertainment  of  all  children  of  the  pro- 
mises that  hope  to  inherit  them,  who  hath  with  great  pains,  and  with  good 
evidence  of  spiritual  understanding,  endeavoured  to  clear  most  matters  con- 
cerning faith,  and  hkewise  discovered  the  variety  and  use  of  the  promises, 
with  teaching  Christians  how  to  improve  their  riches  in  Christ  here  spread 
before  them,  how  to  use  the  shield  of  faith  and  the  sword  of  the  Spirit  upon 
all  occasions,  that  so  they  might  not  only  be  believing  but  skilful  Christians, 
knowing  how  to  manage  and  make  the  best  advantage  of  their  faith  and  the 
word  of  faith.  Which  if  they  could  do,  there  would  another  manner  of 
power  and  beauty  shine  in  their  lives  than  doth.  He  is  a  man  that  hath 
formerly  deserved  well  of  the  church,  but  in  more  special  manner  fitted  for 
a  treatise  of  this  nature,  as  having  been  put  to  it  to  know  by  experience 
what  it  is  to  live  by  faith,  having  in  sight  for  matters  of  this  life  very  little 
whereupon  to  depend.  Those  that  are  di'iven  to  exercise  their  faith  cannot 
but  find  God  faithful,  as  never  faiUng  those  that  trust  in  him,  they  see  more 
of  God  than  others  do. 

If  it  be  objected  that  others  of  late  time  have  digged  in  the  same  mine 
and  laboured  in  the  same  field,  and  to  good  purpose  and  success,  I  answer, 
it  is  true,  the  more  this  age  is  bound  to  God  that  directs  the  spirits  of  men 
to  so  useful,  so  necessary,  an  argument,  seeing  without  faith  we  have  no 
communion  with  the  fountain  of  life,  nothing  in  this  world  that  can  yield 
settled  comfort  to  gi'ound  the  soul  upon,  seeing  without  it  the  fairest  car- 
riage is  but  empty  and  dead  morahty,  neither  finding  acceptance  with  God 
nor  yielding  comfort  to  us  in  our  greatest  extremities,  and  by  it  God  him- 
self and  Christ,  with  all  that  he  hath  done,  sufi'ered,  conquered,  becometh 
ours  and  for  our  use.  Besides,  none  that  I  know  have  written  in  our  lan- 
guage so  largely  of  this  argument ;  and  such  is  the  extent  and  spiritualness 
of  this  heavenly  point,  that  many  men  and  of  the  greatest  graces  and  parts, 
may  with  great  benefit  to  the  church  dive  and  dig  still  into  this  mystery. 
Neither  let  any  except  against  the  multitude  of  quotations  of  Scriptures  ;  they 
are  brought  under  their  proper  head,  and  set  in  their  proper  place,  and  the 
matter  itself  is  cut  out  into  variety  of  parts.  Store  (as  we  used  to  speak) 
is  no  sore,  we  count  it  a  delight  to  take  out  of  a  full  heap  ;  the  more  light 
the  conviction  is  the  stronger ;  what  suits  not  at  one  time  will  suit  our 
spirits  and  occasions  at  another,  and  what  taketh  not  with  one  may  take 
with  another.  But  the  full  and  well  handling  of  matters  in  this  treatise 
carries  such  satisfaction  with  it,  that  it  frees  me  from  necessity  of  further 
discourse,  and  mine  own  present  weakness  of  body  taketh  me  off.  Only  I 
was  willing  to  yield  that  testimony  to  the  fruitful  pains  of  a  faithful  labourer 
in  God's  vineyard,  and  I  judge  it  deserved.  Receive  it,  therefore.  Chris- 
tian reader,  with  thanks  to  God  that  stirreth  up  such  helpers  of  that  faith 


MEMOIR  OF  RICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D.  CVU 

by  which  we  live,  stand,  conquer,  and  in  which  we  must  die,  if  we  look  to 
receive  the  end  of  our  faith,  the  salvation  of  our  souls 

KiCHAED  StBBES. 

The  last  epistle  known  to  me  is  prefixed  to  a  very  striking 
and  suggestive  book,  to  wit,  Richard  Capel's  '  Treatise  of  Tempta- 
tions.' *  Nearly  related  to  the  noble  family  of  Capel,  he  was  yet  a 
staunch  Puritan  and  '  Nonconformist : '  his  son  Daniel  having  also 
been  one  of  the  '  ejected'  of  1662.  He  was  very  much  esteemed 
by  Sibbes,  who  left  to  him  a  memorial  'ring'  in  his  will.t  The 
book  itself  is  well  fitted  to  comfort  the  despondent,  and  may  be 
placed  beside  Brook's  'Precious  Remedies  for  Satan's  Devices,'  which 
it  somewhat  resembles,  though  wanting  in  the  wonderful  learning 
and  ingenuity  of  illustration  of  that  most  learned  and  vivid  of  the 
later  Puritans.     The  '  epistle '  follows  : — 

To  the  Christian  Reader. 

After  the  angels  left  their  own  standing,  they  envied  ours,  and  out  of 
envy  became  both  by  office  and  practice  tempters,  that  they  might  draw 
man  from  that  happy  communion  with  God,  unto  that  cursed  condition  with 
themselves.  And  success  in  this  trade  hath  made  them  both  skilful  and 
diligent,  especially  now,  their  time  being  but  short.  And  if  neither  the 
first  or  second  Adam  could  be  free  from  their  impudent  assaults,  who  then 
may  look  for  exemption  ?  The  best  must  most  of  all  look  to  be  set  upon  as 
having  most  of  Christ  in  them,  whom  Satan  hates  most,  and  as  hoping  and 
disheartening  of  them,  to  foil  others,  as  great  trees  fall  not  alone ;  no  age 
or  rank  of  Christians  can  be  free.  Beginners  he  labours  to  discourage  ; 
those  that  have  made  some  progress,  he  raiseth  storms  against ;  those  that 
more  perfect  he  labours  to  undermine  by  spiritual  pride ;  and  above  all 
other  times,  he  is  most  busy  when  we  are  weakest,  then  he  doubles  and  multi- 
plies his  forces,  when  he  looks  either  to  have  all,  or  lose  all.  His  coui-se 
is  either  to  tempt  to  sin  or  for  sin.  To  sin,  by  presenting  some  seeming 
good  to  draw  us  from  the  true  good,  to  seek  some  excellency  besides  God 
in  the  creature,  and  to  this  end  he  labours  in  the  first  place  to  shake  our 
faith  in  the  word ;  thus  he  dealt  with  Adam,  and  thus  he  dealeth  with  all 
his  posterity.  And  besides  immediate  suggestions,  he  cometh  unto  us,  by 
our  dearest  friends,  as  unto  Christ  by  Peter  ;  so  many  tempters,  so  many 
de\als  in  that  ill  office,  though  neither  they  or  we  are  oft  aware  of  it ;  the 

*  Tentations :  their  nature,  danger,  cure.  By  Eichard  Capel,  sometime  Fellow 
of  Magdalen  College  in  Oxford.  The  sixth  edition.  The  fourth  part  left  enlarged 
by  the  author,  and  now  there  is  added  his  remains  to  the  work  of  Tentations.  To 
wliich  thou  hast  preiaxed  an  abridgment  of  the  author's  life,  by  Valentine  Marshall, 
of  Elmore,  in  Gloucestershire.  1  Cor.  x.  13,  There  hath  no  tentation  taken  you, 
but  such  as  is  common  to  man :  but  God  is  faithful,  who  will  not  suffer  you  to  be 
tempted  above  that  you  are  able  ;  but  will  with  the  tentation  also  make  a  way  to 
escape,  that  ye  may  be  able  to  bear  it.  London  :  Printed  by  Tho.  Ratcliffe,  for  John 
Bartlet,  long  since  living  in  the  Goldsmith's  Row  in  Cheapside,  at  the  Gilt  Cup; 
since  at  St  Austine's  Gate  ;  now  in  the  New  buildings  on  the  south  side  of  Paul's 
near  St  Austine's  Gate,  at  the  sign  of  the  Gilt  Cup,  and  at  the  Gilt  Cup  in  West 
minster  Hall,  over  against  the  Upper  Bench.     1659. 

t  Consult  Brook,  supra,  iii.  289  seq. 


CVIU  MEMOIE  OF  EICHAKD  SIBBES,  D.P. 

nearest  friend  of  all  our  own  flesh,  is  the  most  dangerous  traitor,  and  there- 
fore most  dangerous  because  most  near,  more  near  to  us  than  the  devil 
himseK,  with  which,  if  he  had  no  intelligence,  aU  his  plots  would  come  to 
nothing  ;  this  holding  correspondence  with  him,  layeth  us  open  to  all  danger ; 
it  is  this  inward  bosom  enemy  that  doth  us  most  mischief.  When  Phocas 
(like  another  Zimry)  had  killed  his  master,  Mauricius  the  emperor,  he 
laboured  like  Cain,  to  secure  himself  with  building  high  walls,  after  which 
he  heard  a  voice  telUng  him,  that  though  he  built  his  walls  never  so  high, 
yet  sin  within  the  walls  would  undermine  all.  It  is  true  of  every  particular 
man,  that  if  there  were  no  tempter  without,  he  would  be  a  tempter  to  him- 
self ;  it  is  this  lust  within  us  that  hath  brought  us  an  ill  report  Upon  the 
creature.  This  is  that  which  makes  blessings  to  be  snares  unto  us  ;  all 
the  corruption  which  is  in  the  world  is  by  lust,  which  lieth  in  our  bosom, 
2  Pet.  i.  4,  and  as  Ahithophel,  or  Judas,  by  familiarity  betrayeth  us,  yea, 
oftentimes  in  our  best  affections,  and  actions,  nature  will  mingle  without  * 
zeal,  and  privy  pride  will  creep  in,  and  taint  our  best  performances  vsdth 
some  corrupt  aim.  Hence  it  is,  that  our  hfe  is  a  continual  combat.  A 
Christian,  so  soon  as  new  bom,  is  bom  a  soldier,  and  so  continueth  until 
his  crown  be  put  upon  him  ;  in  the  mean  time  our  comfort  is,  that  ere 
long,  we  shall  be  out  of  the  reach  of  all  tentation ;  *  the  God  of  peace  will 
tread  down  Satan  under  our  feet,'  Rom.  xvi.  20.  A  carnal  man's  life  is 
nothing  but  a  strengthening  and  feeding  of  his  enemy,  a  fighting  for  that 
which  fighteth  against  his  soul.  Since  Satan  hath  cast  this  seed  of  the 
serpent  into  our  souls,  there  is  no  sin  so  prodigious,  but  some  seed  of  it 
lurketh  in  our  nature  ;  it  should  humble  us  to  hear  what  sins  are  forbidden 
by  Moses,  which  if  the  Holy  Ghost  had  not  mentioned,  we  might  have  been 
ashamed  to  hear  of,  they  are  so  dishonourable  to  our  nature  ;  the  very 
hearing  of  the  monstrous  outrages  committed  by  men,  given  up  of  God,  as 
it  yields  matter  of  thanks  to  God  for  preservation  of  us,  so  of  humility,  to 
see  our  common  natm'e  so  abused,  and  so  abased  by  sin  and  Satan.  Nay, 
so  catching  is  our  nature  of  sin,  that  the  mention  of  it,  instead  of  stirring 
hatred  of  it,  often  kindles  fancy  to  a  liking  of  it ;  the  discovery  of  devilish 
policies  and  stratagems  of  wit,  though  in  some  respects  to  good  purpose,  yet 
hath  no  better  effect  in  some,  than  to  fashion  their  wits  to  the  like  false 
practices  ;  and  the  innocency  of  many  ariseth  not  from  the  love  of  that  which 
is  good,  but  from  not  knowing  of  that  which  is  evil. 

And  in  nothing  the  sinfulness  of  sin  appears  more  than  in  this,  that  it 
hindereth  all  it  can,  the  knowledge  of  itself,  and  if  it  once  be  known,  it 
studieth  extenuation,  and  translation  upon  others ;  sin  and  shifting  came 
into  the  world  together  ;  in  St  James  his  time,  it  seems  that  there  were 
some  that  were  not  afraid  to  father  their  temptations  to  sin,  upon  him  that 
hateth  it  most  (God  himself),  whereas  God  is  only  said  to  try,  not  to  tempt. 
Our  adversaries  are  not  far  from  imputing  this  to  God,  who  maintain 
concupiscence,  the  mother  of  aU  abominations,  to  be  a  condition  of  nature 
as  fii-st  created,  only  kept  in  by  the  bridle  of  original  righteousness,  that 
fi'om  hence,  they  might  the  better  maintain  those  proud  opinions  of  perfect 
fulfilling  the  law,  and  meriting  thereby.  This  moved  St  James  to  set  down 
the  true  descent  and  pedigree  of  sin ;  we  ourselves  are  both  the  tempters 
and  the  tempted  ;  as  tempted  we  might  deserve  some  pity,  if  as  tempters  we 
deserve  not  blame.  In  us  there  is  both  fire  and  matter  for  fire  to  take  hold 
on.  Satan  needs  but  to  blow,  and  oftentimes  not  that  neither  ;  for  many,  if 
concupiscence  stir  not  up  them,  they  will  stir  up  concupiscence.  So  long 
*  Qu.  'with  our?'— Ed. 


MEMOIR  OF  RICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D.  CIX 

as  the  soul  keeps  close  to  God  and  his  truth,  it  is  safe ;  so  long  as  our  way 
lieth  above,  we  are  free  from  the  snares  below.     AH  the  danger  first  riseth 
from  letting  our  hearts  loose  from  God  by  infideUty,  for  then  presently  our 
heart  is  drawn  away  by  some  seeming  good,  whereby  we  seek  a  severed  ex- 
cellency and  contentment  out  of  God,  in  whom  it  is  only  to  be  had.     After 
we  have  once  forsaken  God,  God  forsakes  us,  leaving  us  in  some  degree  to 
ourselves,  the  worst  guides  that  can  be ;  and  thereupon,  Satan  joins  forces 
with  us,  setting  upon  us  as  a  friend,  under  our  own  colours ;  he  cannot 
but  miscarry  that  hath  a  pirate  for  his  guide.     This  God  suffereth  to  make 
us  better  known  to  ourselves ;  for  by  this  means,  corruption  that  lay  hid 
before,  is  drawn  out,  and  the  deceitfiilness  of  sin  the  better  known,  and  so 
we  are  put  upon  the  daily  practice  of  repentance  and  mortification,  and 
driven  to  fly  under  the  wings  of  Jesus  Christ.     "Were  it  not  for  temptations, 
we  should  be  concealed  from  ourselves ;  our  graces  as  unexercised,  would 
not  be  so  bright,  the  power  of  God  should  not  appear ;  so  in  our  weakness, 
we  would  not  be  so  pitiful  and  tender  towards  others,  nor  so  jealous  over 
our  own  hearts,  nor  so  skUfiil  of  Satan's  method  and  enterprises,  we  should 
not  see  such  a  necessity  of  standing  always  upon  our  guard ;  but  though, 
by  the  overruling  power  of  God,  they  have  this  good  issue,  yet  that  which 
is  ill  of  itself,  is  not  to  be  ventured  on,  for  the  good  that  cometh  by  acci- 
dent.    The  chief  thing  wherein  one  Christian  differs  from  another  is  watch- 
fuLaess,  which  though  it  require  most  labour,  yet  it  briageth  most  safety  ; 
and  the  best  is  no  farther  safe,  than  watchful,  and  not  only  against  sins, 
but  tentations,  which  are  the  seeds  of  sin,  and  occasions  which  let  in  ten- 
tations.     The  best,  by  rash  adventures  upon  occasion,  have  been  led  into 
temptations,  and  by  temptation  into  the  sin  itself;  whence  sin  and  temp- 
tation come  both  under  the  same  name,  to  shew  us  that  we  can  be  no 
farther  secure  from  sin,  than  we  be  careful  to  shun  temptations.     And  in 
this  every  one  should  labour  so  well  to  understand  themselves,  as  to  know 
what  they  find  a  temptation  to  them.     That  may  be  a  temptation  to  one 
which  is  not  to  another  ;  Abraham  might  look  upon  the  smoke  of  Sodom, 
though  Lot  might  not ;  because  that  sight  would  work  more  upon  Lot's 
heart  than  Abraham's.     In  these  cases  a  wise  Christian  better  knows  what 
to  do  with  himself  than  any  can  prescribe  him.     And  because  God  hath 
our  hearts  in  his  hand,  and  can  either  suspend  or  give  way  to  temptations, 
it  should  move  us  especially  to  take  heed  of  those  sins,  whereby,  grieving 
the  'good  Spirit  of  God,  we  give  him  cause  to  leave  us  to  our  own  spirits  ; 
but  that  he  may  rather  stir  up  contrary  gracious  lustings  in  us,  as  a  con- 
trary principle.     There  is  nothing  of  greater  force  to  make  us  out  of  godly 
jealousy   '  to  fear  always.'     Thus  daily  '  working  out  our  salvation,'  that 
God  may  delight  to  go  along  with  us,  and  be  our  shield,  and  not  to  leave 
us  naked  in  the  hands  of  Satan,  but  second  his  first  grace  with  a  further 
degree,  as  temptations  shall  increase.     It  is  he  that  either  removeth  occa- 
sions, or  shutteth  our  hearts  against  them,  and  giveth  strength  to  prevail 
over  them ;  which  gracious  promise  you  cannot  be  too  thankful  for.    It  is  a 
great  mercy  when  temptations  are  not  above  the  supply  of  strength  against 
them.     This  care  only  taketh  up  the  heart  of  those  who,  having  the  life  of 
Christ  begun  in  them,  and  his  nature  stamped  upon  them,  have  felt  how 
sweet  communion  and  acquaintance  with  God  in  Christ,  and  how  comfort- 
able the  daily  walking  with  God,  is  ;  these  are  weaiy  of  anything  that  may 
draw  away  their  hearts  from  God,  and  hinder  their  peace.     And  therefore 
they  hate  temptations  to  sin  as  sin  itself,  and  sin  as  heU  itself,  and  hell 
most  of  all,  as  being  a  state  of  eternal  separation  from  all  comfortable 


ex  MEMOIR  OF  RICH.\ED  SIBBES,  D.D. 

fellowship  with  God.  A  man  that  is  a  stranger  from  the  life  of  God,  can« 
not  resist  temptation  to  sin,  as  it  is  a  sin,  because  he  never  knew  the 
beauty  of  holiness  ;  but  from  the  beauty  of  a  civil  life,  he  may  resist 
temptations  to  such  times  *  as  may  weaken  respect,  and  from  love  of  his  own 
quiet,  may  abstain  from  those  sins  that  will  affiight  conscience.  And  the 
cause  why  civil  men  fear  the  less  disturbance  fr'om  temptations  is,  because 
they  are  wholly  under  the  power  of  temptation,  till  God  awaken  their  heart. 
What  danger  they  see  not,  they  feel  not,  the  strong  man  holds  his  posses- 
sion in  them,  and  is  too  wise,  by  rousing  them  out  of  their  sleep  to  give 
them  occasion  of  thoughts  of  escape.  None  more  under  the  danger  of 
temptation,  than  they  that  discern  it  not ;  they  are  Satan's  stales,  'taken  by 
him  at  his  pleasure,'  whom  Satan  useth  to  draw  others  into  the  same  snare. 
Therefore  Satan  troubleth  not  them,  nor  himself  about  them  ;  but  the  true 
Christian  fears  a  temptation  in  everything.  His  chief  care  is,  that  in  what 
condition  soever  he  be,  it  prove  not  a  temptation  to  him.  Afflictions, 
indeed,  are  more  ordinarily  called  temptations,  than  prosperity,  because 
Satan  by  them  breedeth  an  impression  of  sorrow  and  fear,  which  affections 
have  an  especial  working  upon  us  in  the  course  of  our  hves,  making  us 
often  to  forsake  God,  and  desert  his  cause.  Yet  snares  are  laid  in  every- 
thing we  deal  with,  which  none  can  avoid  but  those  that  see  them.  None 
see,  but  those  whose  eyes  God  opens  ;  and  God  useth  the  ministry  of  his 
servants  for  this  end,  to  open  the  eyes  of  men,  to  discover  the  net,  and 
then,  as  the  wise  man  saith,  '  In  vain  is  the  net  spread  before  the  sight  of 
any  bird.'  Domiue,  quis  evadet  laqueos  istos  midtos  nisi  videat  istos  ?  Et 
quis  videbit  istos,  nisi  qiieni  illuminaveris  liimine  tuo  ?  ipse  enim  pater  tenehra- 
rum  laqueos  siios  abscondit.  Soliloq.  cap.  16.  Which  goeth  under  August- 
ine's name.     Tom.  9 

This  moved  this  godly  minister,  my  Christian  friend,  to  take  pains  in 
this  useful  argument,  as  appeareth  in  this  treatise,  which  is  written  by  him 
in  a  clear,  quick,  and  famiUar  style  ;  and  for  the  matter  and  manner  of 
handling,  solid,  judicious,  and  scholar-like  ;  and  which  may  commend  it 
the  more,  it  is  written  by  one  that,  besides  faithfulness  and  fruitfulness  in 
his  ministry,  hath  been  a  good  proficient  in  the  school  of  temptation  him- 
self, and  therefore  the  fitter,  as  a  skilful  watchman,  to  give  warning  and 
aim  to  others ;  for  there  be  spiritual  exercises  of  ministers  more  for  others 
than  for  themselves.  If  by  this  he  shall  attain,  in  some  measure,  what  he 
intended,  God  shall  have  the  glory,  thou  the  benefit,  and  he  the  encoiirage- 
ment  to  make  public  some  other  labours. — Farewell  in  the  Lord, 

ElCHAED  SiBBES. 

These  *  epistles '  and  '  prefaces '  shew  the  cordial  relations  sus- 
tained by  Sibbes  towards  his  fellow-divines  and  contemporaries  ; 
and  down  to  a  late  period,  the  booksellers  found  it  a  profitable 
advertisement  to  say  of  a  book,  '  Recommended  by  Dr  Sibbes.'  ■(- 

*  Qu.  '  sins  ?' — Ed. 

t  '  Kecommended  by  Dr  Sibbes.'  The  various  books  of  Preston  are  usually  thua 
advertised ;  and  those  of  Burroughs,  Hooker,  and  Cotton  as  '  approved  by  Dr 
Sibbes,'    Eglesfield  and  Cole  in  their  book-lists  supply  various  examples. 


MEMOIE  OF  EICHAED  SIBBES,  D.D.  Ojj 

CHAPTER  X. 

SIBBES  VICAR  OF  TRINITY,  CAMBRIDGE— PEACE-MAKER. 

Presentation  to  Vicarage  of  Trinity  by  the  King— Another  relaxation  of  order'  of 
Gray's  Inn— Lord  Keeper  Williams -'Tender  Conscience'— 'Consolatory  Letter' 
—Thomas  Goodwin—'  Summer  visits'— Earls  of  Manchester  and  Warwick— 
Truro  and  Say  and  Seal— Brooks  and  Veres-Thurston-' Mother  and  brethren.' 

From  the  manner  in  which  Sibbes  escaped  the  practical  effects 
of  the  '  High  Commission  '  and  '  Star-Chamber  '  decisions,  in  strik- 
ing contrast  with  Davenport  and  Hooker,  and  others  of  the  fugitives 
to  Holland  and  New  England,  and  from  the  fearless  way  in  "which 
he  continued  to  preach  the  same  sentiments,  it  is  evident  that  he 
must  have  personally  commanded  the  weightiest  regard,  and  secured 
influence  that  could  not  be  disregarded.     In  1627,  he  passed  D.D. 
In  1633  (shortly  after  the  overthrow  of  the  'Feoffees'  scheme, 
which  makes  it  the  more  memorable),  he  was  presented  by  the 
king,  Charles  I.,  on  its  resignation  by  Thomas  Goodwin,  who  scarcely 
held  it  a  year,*  to  '  the  vicarage  of  the  holy  and  undivided  Trinity, 
in  the  town  of  Cambridge.'     We  have  the  fact  in  the  '  Foedera  :— 
^  'Eicardus  Sibbes,  clericus,  in  Sacra  Theologia  Professor,  habet  con- 
similes  Literas  Patentes  de  presentatione  ad  Vicariam  sanctiB  et  individus 
Trmitatis  m  Villa  Cantabrigiae,  Diocesis  Eliensis,  per  resignationem  ultimi 
Incumbentis  ibidem  jam  vacantem,  et  ad  nostram  presentationem  pleno 
jure  spectantem ;    et  deriguntur  hag  Literas  Reverendo   in   Christo  Patri 
Domino  Francisco  EUensi  Episcopo.     Teste  Eege  apud  Westmonasterium, 
vicesimo  prime  die  Novembris  1633.'  f 

This  *  presentation '  speaks  much  for  Sibbes ;  for  at  this  date 
Laud  was  filling  every  place  with  men  of  his  own  kind.  We  have 
not  the  means  of  determining  by  what  influence  this  appointment 
was  obtained.  One  tells  us  Goodwin  resigned  '  in  favour  of  Sibbes,' 
but  that  could  scarcely  be,  inasmuch  as  he  at  the  same  time  resigned 
all  his  offices  and  honours  in  the  University.  Besides,  the  difficulty 
is  only  removed  back  a  stage;  how  did  it  come  about  that  a  Puritan 
resigned  and  another  stepped  into  his  place  ?  It  may  be  that  it  was 
a  tacit  recompence  for  the  former  injustice  of  '  outing '  him  from  his 
lectureship  of  Trinity  and  his  fellowship ;  but  it  is  more  probabk 
that  on  the  'Feoffees"  decision,  the  powerful  friends  of  the  preacher 
at  Gray's  Inn  interfered  in  such  a  way  as  to  let  the  primate  under- 
stand that  they,  at  any  rate,  were  not  to  be  trifled  with  ;  and  that 
then  he  secured,  or  at  least  did  not  hinder,  this  '  presentation.' 

But  there  is  the  further  difficulty  of  the  '  order '  of  Gray's  Inn, 
that  their  preacher  was  not  only  to  be  continually  resident,  but 

*  Rymer's  Foedera,  xix..  440,  No.  81,  ed.  1732.  t  Ibid.,  xix.,  536. 


Citi  MEMOIR  OF  RICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D. 

likewise  to  have  no  other  ecclesiastical  preferment.  As  Sibbea 
actually  accepted  and  acted  as  vicar,  the  '  order '  must  once  more 
have  been  relaxed  in  his  favour.  Indeed,  I  suspect  that  '  order ' 
was  originally  passed  for  a  personal  object  and  from  a  personal 
reason.  The  immediate  predecessor  of  Sibbes  was  a  Mr  Fenton, — 
in  all  likelihood,  though  no  Christian  name  appears  in  the  '  Order- 
Books '  of  Gray's  Inn,  the  same  with  Eoger  Fenton,  D.D.,  who 
was  a  great  pluralist,  and  who  died  16th  January  1615-16.  He 
held  the  prebend,  rectory,  and  vicarage  of  St  Pancras,  and  the 
rectory  of  St  Stephen's,  Walbrook,  and  also  the  vicarage  of  Chig- 
well,  Essex,  till  his  death.  Probably  he  neglected  his  duties  as 
preacher  at  Gray's  Inn.  Hence  the  check  put  upon  his  successor.* 
For  one  so  faithful  in  the  discharge  of  his  office,  and  who  was 
regarded  by  all  as  a  personal  friend,  there  would  be  no  great  diffi- 
culty in  making  arrangements,  in  order  to  his  accepting  the  '  pre- 
sentation,' and  still  continuing  the  honoured  preacher  of  Gray's  Inn. 

It  is  greatly  to  be  lamented  that  the  most  diligent  and  persistent 
research  has  failed  to  add  any  memorials  to  the  fact  of  his  en- 
trance on  the  vicarage  of  Trinity.  Though  he  must  have  been 
non-resident,  he  would  have  many  opportunities  to  officiate  during 
*  vacation '  time  at  the  Inn. 

This  is  the  last  public  honour  recorded  as  having  been  conferred 
upon  Sibbes.  What  remains  to  be  told  partakes  of  the  privacy  of 
his  daily  life. 

One  little  fact,  half-casually  recorded  in  that  extraordinary 
folio,  '  Scrinia  Reserata :  a  Memorial  offer'd  to  the  great  de- 
servings  of  John  Williams,  DD.,  who  some  time  held  the  place 
of  Lord  Keeper  of  the  Great  Seal  of  England,  &c.,  &c.,  &c.,  by  John 
Hacket,  late  Lord  Bishop  of  Litchfield  and  Coventry,'  1693 — a 
book  sui  generis,  and  than  which  none  gives  profo under  insight 
into  the  '  form  and  pressure  of  the  age,' — brings  out  a  very  beautiful 
side  of  Sibbes's  character,  and  dates  to  us,  if  I  err  not,  one  of  the 
most  interesting,  biographically,  of  his  minor  writings.  Vindicating 
Williams — a  vindication  which,  the  more  successful  it  is,  the  more 
it  damages  the  strangely  contradictory  character  of  the  Lord  Keeper 
■ — from  the  rumour  of  favouring  Puritans,  Hacket  thus  introduces 
Sibbes  : — 

'  Another  rank  for  whose  sake  the  Lord  Keeper  suffer'd,  were  scarce  an 
handful,  not  above  three  or  four  in  all  the  wide  Bishoprick  of  Lincoln,  who 
did  not  oppose,  but  by  an  ill  education  seldom  used  the  appointed  cere- 
monies.    Of  whom  when  he  was  certified  by  his  commissaries  and  officials- 

*  '  Check  put  upon  his  successor.'  For  these  facts  and  the  inference  from  them 
I  owe  thanks  to  Dr  Hesse  y 


MEMOIR  OF  RICHAED  SIBBES,  D.D.  CXIU 

he  sent  for  them,  and  confer'd  with  them  with  much  meekness,  sometimes 
remitted  them  to  argue  with  his  chaplain.  If  all  this  stirred  them  not,  he 
commended  them  to  his  old  collegiate  Dr  Sibbes,  or  Dr  Gouch  (Gouge),  who 
knew  the  scruples  of  these  men's  hearts,  and  how  to  bring  them  about,  the 
best  of  any  about  the  city  of  London.'* 

There  is  such  a  fascination,  spite  of  all  his  errors,  or  it  may  be 
crimes,  about  the  hot-blooded  Welshman,  so  stormy  and  impulsive, 
so  wise  and  yet  so  foolish,  that  one  is  glad  to  find,  that  even  when 
he  was  '  Lord  Keeper,'  and  surrounded  by  very  different  men,  he 
forgot  neither  him  who  was  once  his  humble  fellow-student  oi 
St  John's,  nor  the  staunch  puritan  of  '  Blackfryers/  William  Gouge, 
aJso  a  contemporary  at  Cambridge,  but — 

'  They  had  been  friends,  when  friendship  is 
A  passion  and  a  blessedness ; 
And  in  a  tender  sacrament 
Unto  the  house  of  God  they  went, 

And  plighted  love,— caressing 
The  same  dear  cup  of  blessing. 
'They  had  been  friends  in  youth,  most  dear ; 
In  studious  night,  and  mirthful  cheer. 
And  high  discourse,  and  large  debate, 
Unmixed  by  bitterness  or  hate — 
Their  fellowship,  I  ween, 
A  pleasant  thing  had  been.' 

It  is  specially  pleasing  to  know  what  was  the  occasion  of  again 
associating  the  students  of  earlier  years — to  wit,  tender  dealing 
with  tender  consciences.  I  like  to  place  that  over  against  his  after 
humiliating  repudiation  of  all  Puritans,  extorted  from  him  while 
under  the  shadow  of  a  charge  of  treason,  and  in  a  letter  to  LAUD.f 
He  was  truthful  in  his  favour  ;  untruthful  in  his  disfavour.  The 
fact  also  dates,  as  I  have  intimated,  one  of  the  minor  writings  of 
Sibbes,  which  illustrates  how  he  would  discharge  the  office  assigned 
to  him.     It  is  entitled  : — 

_  A  Consolatory  Letter  To  an  afflicted  Conscience :  full  of  pious  admo- 
nitions and  Divme  Instructions.  Written  by  that  famous  Divme,  Doctor 
SiBBS :  and  now  pubhshed  for  the  common  good  and  edification  of  the 
Church.  Ecclesiastes  vi.  18,  Be  not  thou  just  overmuch,  neither  make  thy 
selfe  overwise ;  wherefore  shouldest  thou  be  desolate. 

[Woodcut  portrait,  .^tat:  Suae  58.1  London,  Prmted  for  Franci- 
Coides.     1641.1 

*  i.  95.  '  Scrinia '  seems  to  have  been  a  favourite  title.  The  historical  student 
will  recall  also  '  Scrinia  Ceciliana.' 

t  Works  of  Laud.  vi.  pp.  312-314.     Sept.  9.  1633. 

t  For  a  copy  of  this  excessively  rare  '  Letter,'  published  in  a  thin  4to,  pp.  6,  lam 
indebted  to  the  kindness  of  Joshua  Wilson,  Esq.,  Nevill  Park,  Tunbridge  Wells, 
who  has  devoted  much  time  to  good  purpose  in  investigating  the  history,  and  bio- 
graphy, and  bibliography  of  Puritanism.  His  '  Historical  Inquiry  concerning  the 
Principles,  &c..  of  English  Presbyterians  '  (1835)  has  not  gathered  all  its  renown  yet. 


Cxiv  MEMOIK  OF  RICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D. 

I  introduce  this  *  Letter '  here,  retaining  its  ortnography  : — 

Jjeare  Sir, 

I  understand  by  your  Letter,  that  you  have  many  and  great 
tryals  ;  some  externall  and  bodily,  some  internall  and  spiritual!  :  as  the  de- 
privall  of  inward  comfort,  the  buffetings  (and  that  in  more  then  ordinary 
manner),  of  your  soule,  with  Satans  temptations  :  and  (which  makes  all 
those  inward  and  outward,  the  more  heavy  and  insupportable)  that  you 
have  wanted  Christian  society  with  the  Saints  of  God,  to  whom  you  might 
make  knowne  your  gi-iefes,  and  by  whom  you  might  receive  comfort  from  the 
Lord,  and  incouragement  in  your  Christian  course. 

Now  that  which  I  earnestly  desire  in  yourbehalfe,  and  hope  likewise  you 
doe  in  your  owne,  is  that  you  may  di'aw  nearer  to  God,  and  be  more  con- 
formable to  his  command  by  these  afflictions ;  for  if  our  afflictions  be  not 
sanctified,  that  is,  if  we  make  not  an  holy  use  of  them  by  purging  out  the 
old  leaven  of  our  ingenerate  corruptions,  they  are  but  judgments  to  us,  and 
makes  way  for  greater  plagues :  loh  v.  14.  And  therefore  the  chiefe  end 
and  ayme  of  God  in  aU  the  afflictions  which  he  sends  to  his  children  in  love, 
is,  that  they  may  be  partakers  of  his  hohnesse,  and  so  their  afflictions  may 
conduce  to  their  spirituall  advantage  and  profit,  Heb.  xii.  10.  The  Lord 
aymes  not  at  himselfe  in  any  calamities  he  layes  on  us,  (for  God  is  so 
infinitely  all-sufficient,  that  we  can  adde  nothing  to  him  by  all  our  doings  or 
sufierings)  but  his  maine  ayme  is  at  our  Melioration  and  Sanctification  in 
and  by  them.  And  therefore  our  duty  in  every  affliction  and  pressure,  is 
thus  to  thinke  with  our  selves  :  How  shaU  we  carry  and  behave  our  selves 
under  this  crosse,  that  our  soules  may  reap  profit  by  it  ?  This  (in  one 
word)  is  done  by  our  returning  and  drawing  nearer  to  the  Lord,  as  his  holy 
Apostle  exhorts  us,  lames  iv.  8.  This  in  all  calamities  the  Lord  hath  a 
speciall  eye  unto,  and  is  exceeding  wroth  if  he  finde  it  not. 

The  Prophet  declares  That  his  anger  teas  not  turned  from  Israel,  because 
they  turned  not  to  him  that  smote  them,  Isa.  i.  4,  5.  Now  it  is  impossible 
that  a  man  should  draw  nigh  to  God,  and  turne  to  him,  if  he  turne  cot  from 
his  evill  wayes:  for  in  every  conversion  there  is  Tenninus  d  quo,  something 
to  be  tm'ned  from,  as  well  as  Terminus  ad  quod,  something  to  be  turned  to. 

Now,  that  we  must  turn  to,  is  God  ;  and  that  we  must  turne  from,  is 
sinne ;  as  being  diametrally  opposite  to  God,  and  that  which  separates 
betweene  God  and  us. 

To  this  purpose  we  must  search  and  try  our  hearts  and  wayes,  and  see 
what  siimes  there  be  that  keepe  us  from  God,  and  separate  us  from  his 
gracious  favour :  and  chiefly  we  must  weed  out  our  speciall  bosom-sins. 
This  the  ancient  Church  of  God  counsels  each  other  to  doe  in  the  time  of 
their  anguish  and  affliction.  Lam.  iii.  39,  40,  Let  us  search  and  try  our 
wayes,  and  turne  againe  to  the  Lord :  for  though  sinne  make  not  a  finall 
divorce  betwixt  God  and  his  chosen  people,  yet  it  may  make  a  dangerous 
rupture  by  taking  away  sense  of  comfort,  and  suspending  the  sweet  influ- 
ence of  his  favour,  and  the  efiectuall  operation  of  his  grace. 

And  therefore  (deare  Sir)  my  earnest  suit  and  desire  is,  that  you  would 
diligently  peruse  the  booke  of  your  conscience,  enter  into  a  thorow  search 
and  examination  of  your  heart  and  life ;  and  every  day  before  you  goe  to 
bed,  take  a  time  of  recollection  and  meditation,  (as  holy  Isaac  did  in  his 
private  walkes.  Gen.  xxiv.  63),  holding  a  privy  Session  in  your  soule,  and 
indicting  your  selfe  for  all  the  sins,  in  thought,  word,  or  act  committed,  & 
all  the  good  duties  you  have  omitted.  This  self-examination,  if  it  be  so 
strict  and  rigid  as  it  ought  to  be,  will  soone  shew  you  the  sins  whereto  you 


I 


MEMOIR  OF  RICHAED  SIBBES,  D.D.  CXV 

are  most  inclinable  (the  chiefe  cause  of  all  your  sorrowes),  and  conse' 
quently,  it  will  (by  God's  assistance)  effectually  instruct  you  to  fly  from 
those  venomous  and  fiery  serpents,  which  have  so  stung  you. 

And  though  you  have  (as  you  say)  committed  many  grievous  sinnes,  as 
abusing  God's  gracious  ordinances,  and  neglecting  the  golden  opportunities 
of  gi'ace  :  the  originall,  as  you  conceive  of  all  your  troubles  ;  yet  I  must  tell 
you,  there  is  another  Coloqumtida  in  the  pot,  another  grand  enormity 
(though  you  perceive  it  not)  and  that  is  your  separation  from  Gods  Saiats 
and  Sei-vants  in  the  Acts  of  his  publike  Service  and  worship.  This  you 
may  clearly  discern  by  the  affliction  it  selfe,  for  God  is  methodicall  in  his 
corrections,  and  doth  (many  times)  so  suite  the  crosse  to  the  sinne,  that 
you  may  reade  the  sin  in  the  crosse.  You  confesse  that  your  maine  afflic- 
tion, and  that  which  made  the  other  more  bitter,  is,  that  God  tooke  away 
those  to  whom  you  might  make  your  complaint ;  and  from  whom  you 
might  receive  comfort  in  your  distresse.  And  is  not  this  just  with  God, 
that  when  you  wilfully  separate  your  selfe  from  others,  he  should  separate 
others  from  you  ?  Certainly,  when  we  undervalue  mercy,  especially  so 
great  a  one  as  the  communion  of  Saints  is,  commonly  the  Lord  takes  it 
away  from  us,  till  we  learne  to  prize  it  to  the  full  value.  Consider  well 
therefore  the  haynousnesse  of  this  sin,  which  that  you  may  the  better  conceive, 
First,  consider  it  is  against  Gods  expresse  Precept,  charging  us  not  to  for- 
sake the  assembUes  of  the  Saints,  Heb.  x.  20,  25.  Again,  it  is  against 
our  own  greatest  good  and  spirituall  solace,  for  by  discommunicating  & 
excommunicating  our  selves  from  that  blessed  society,  we  deprive  our 
selves  of  the  benefit  of  their  holy  conference,  their  godly  instructions,  their 
divine  consolations,  brotherly  admonitions,  and  charitable  reprehensions ; 
and  what  an  inestimable  losse  is  this  ?  Neither  can  we  partake  such  profit 
by  their  prayers  as  otherwise  we  might :  for  as  the  soule  in  the  naturall 
body  conveyes  life  and  strength  to  every  member,  as  they  are  compacted 
and  joyned  together,  and  not  as  dis-severed ;  so  Christ  conveyes  spirituall 
life  and  vigour  to  Christians,  not  as  they  are  disjoyned  from,  but  as  they 
are  united  to  the  mysticaU  body,  the  Church. 

But  you  will  say  England  is  not  a  true  Church,  and  therefore  you 
separate  ;  adhere  to  the  tnie  Church. 

I  answer,  our  Church  is  easily  proved  to  be  a  true  Church  of  Christ : 
First,  because  it  hath  all  the  essentialls,  necessary  to  the  constitution  of  a 
true  Church ;  as  sound  preaching  of  the  GospeU,  right  dispensation  of  the 
Sacraments,  Prayer  religiously  performed,  and  evill  persons  justly  punisht 
(though  not  in  that  measure  as  some  criminals  and  malefactors  deserve  :) 
and  therefore  a  true  Chui-ch. 

2.  Because  it  hath  begot  many  spirituall  childi'en  to  the  Lord,  which  for 
soundnesse  of  judgement,  and  hohnesse  of  life,  are  not  inferiour  to  any  in 
other  Reformed  Chui'ches.  Yea,  many  of  the  Separation,  if  ever  they 
were  converted,  it  was  here  with  us :  (which  a  false  and  adulterous  Church 
communicated.) 

But  I  heare  you  reply,  our  Church  is  corrupted  with  Ceremonies,  and 
pestered  with  prophane  persons.  What  then  ?  must  we  therefore  separate 
for  Ceremonies,  which  many  think  may  be  lawfully  used.  But  admit  they 
be  evils,  must  we  make  a  rent  in  the  Church  for  Ceremonious  Rites,  for 
cfrcumstantiall  evils  ?  That  were  a  remedy  worse  than  the  disease.  Be- 
sides, had  not  all  the  true  Churches  of  Christ  their  blemishes  and  deformi- 
ties, as  you  may  see  in  seaven  Asian  Churches  ?  Rev.  ii.  and  iii.  And 
though  you  may  finde  some  Churches  beyond  Sea  fr'ee  from  Ceremonies, 

VOL.  I.  k 


CXvi  MEMOIR  OF  RICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D. 

yet  notwithstanding  they  are  more  corrupt  in  Preachers,  (which  is  the 
maine)  as  in  prophanation  of  the  Lord's  day,  &c. 

As  for  wicked  and  prophane  Persons  amongst  us,  though  we  are  to  labour 
by  all  good  meanes  to  purge  them  out,  yet  are  we  not  to  separate  because 
of  this  residence  with  us  :  for,  there  will  bee  a  miscellany  and  mixture  in 
the  visible  Church,  as  long  as  the  world  endures,  as  om:  Saviour  shewes  by 
many  parables  :  Matth.  xiii.  If  therefore  we  should  be  so  oveijust  as  to 
abandon  aU  Churches  for  the  intermixture  of  wicked  Persons,  we  must  saile 
to  the  Antipodes,  or  rather  goe  out  of  the  world,  as  the  Apostle  speaks  : 
it  is  agreed  by  all  that  Noahs  Ai'ke  was  a  type  and  embleme  of  the  Church. 
Now  as  it  had  been  no  lesse  then  seUe-murder  for  Noah,  Sem,  or  laphet, 
to  have  leapt  out  of  the  Arke,  because  of  that  ungracious  Cains  *  company  ; 
so  it  is  no  better  then  soule-murder  for  a  man  to  cast  himself  out  of  the 
Church,  either  for  reaU  or  imaginall  corruptions.  To  conclude,  as  the 
Angell  injoyned  Hagar  to  retume,  and  submit  to  her  Mistris  Sarah,  so  let 
me  admonish  you  to  retume  your  selfe  from  these  extravagant  courses,  and 
submissively  to  render  your  self  to  the  sacred  communion  of  this  truly 
Evangelicall  Church  of  England. 

I  beseech  you  therefore,  as  you  respect  Gods  glory  and  your  owne  eternal! 
salvation,  as  There  is  but  one  body  and  one  spirit,  one  Lord,  one  Baptisme, 
one  God  and  Father  of  all,  who  is  above  all,  and  through  all,  and  in  us  all ;  so 
endeavour  to  keep  the  unity  of  the  spirit  in  the  bond  of  peace,  Eph.  iv.,  as  the 
Apostle  sweetly  invites  you.  So  shall  the  peace  of  God  ever  estabUsh  you, 
and  the  God  of  peace  ever  preserve  you  ;  which  is  the  prayer  of 

Your  remembrancer  at  the  Throne  of  Grace  R.  Sibs. 

The  preceding  '  Letter,'  the  more  valuable  because  of  the 
paucity  of  such  memorials  of  Sibbes,  was  in  all  likelihood  ad- 
dressed to  Thomas  Goodwin,  D.D.,  who  has  been  designated  the 
Atlas  and  patriarch  of  Independency.  Francis  White,  Bishop  of  Ely, 
within  whose  jurisdiction  the  Church  of  Trinity,  Cambridge,  lay, 
being  one  of  the  ultra-zealous  adherents  of  Laud,  had  put  every 
obstacle  possible  in  the  way  of  Goodwin's  acceptance,  and  subse- 
quently of  his  installation ;  but  he  was  ultimately  installed  as 
vicar,  having  passed  from  the  curacy  of  St  Andrew's,  Cambridge, 
thereto.  On  the  succession  of  Laud  to  the  primacy,  his  special 
charge  to  his  bishops  was  to  watch  over  the  lecturers,  and  '  watch 
over'  had  a  terrible  significance.  White  harassed  all  within  his  dio- 
cese who  sought  to  preach  evangelically.  He  renewed  his  attacks 
upon  Goodwin.  The  result  was,  that,  dissatisfied  with  the  restric- 
tions imposed  upon  preaching  that  truth  which,  from  the  time  of 
Sibbes's  barbed  words  to  him,  he  had  found  to  be  the  very  life  of 
his  own  soul,  he  resigned  at  once  his  vicarage,  lectureship  of 
Trinity,  and  fellowship  of  Catharine  Hall,  and  removed,  as  it 
would  appear,  to  London,  where  he  began  to  propagate  his  new 
views  and  conclusions  in  regard  to  church  government.  He  shrank 
not  from  the  name,  then  of  evil  omen,  of  '  Separatist.'  t     The 

Qu.  '  Cham's  ?'— Ed. 
"  Consult  Dr  Halley's  Memoir  of  Goodwin  in  this  series,  II,  xxiii-iv. 


MEMOIR  OF  RICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D.  CXVU 

whole  circumstances  of  the  case,  their  previous  friendship,  their 
mutual  sentiments,  warrant,  I  apprehend,  the  supposition  that  this 
grave,  loving,  skilful,  and  admirable  letter  was  addressed  to  Thomas 
Goodwin.  If  so,  it  was  unsuccessful  in  winning  him  back  to  *  the 
church.'  Methinks  Sibbes  would  have  acted  more  faithfully  as  well 
as  more  consistently,  had  he  followed  the  example  of  his  friends, 
Goodwin,  John  Cotton,  John  Davenport,  Thomas  Hooker,  Samuel 
Stone,  and  their  compeers.  The  spirit  that  pervades  his  letter  is 
worthier  than  his  arguments.  It  seems  difficult  to  see  how 
Goodwin  could  have  remained  within  the  pale  of  the  church,  gagged 
and  hindered  as  he  was  in  what  was  to  him  momentous  beyond 
all  earthly  estimate ;  and  it  was  equally  impossible  to  give  '  assent 
and  consent'  to  what  those  in  authority  pronounced  to  be  the 
*  beauty  of  holiness,'  and  teaching  of  the  Book  of  Common  Prayer. 
Sibbes  allowed  of  neither.  By  the  powerful  influence  of  his  many 
friends,  while  certainly,  as  we  have  seen,  summoned  before  Star 
Chamber  and  High  Commission,  he  held  on  in  his  way  of  preach- 
ing the  same  gospel  everywhere.  That  explains  his  remaining 
within  the  church.  Who  doubts  for  a  moment,  that,  if  his  mouth 
had  been  shut,  as  was  Goodwin's,  on  the  '  one  thing,'  Sibbes  would 
have  placed  himself  beside  his  friend  ?  Perhaps  there  would  have 
been  more  of  lingering  effort  to  get  above  the  difficulties,  more 
pain  in  sundering  of  the  ties  that  bound  him  to  the  church,  more 
sway  given  to  heart  than  head.  Still  the  final  decision,  beyond  all 
debate,  would  have  been  that  of  the  '  two  thousand'  of  1662.  The 
more  shame  to  those  who  compelled  such  loyal  lovers  of  'the 
church'  to  leave  her.  This  letter  gives  us  insight  into  Sibbes's 
method  of  procedure  in  dealing  with  the  scruples  of  the  conscien- 
tious. It  is  to  be  regretted  that  we  have  no  more  of  such  letters, 
and  none  of  his  conversations  with  them.  But  we  have  the  fact,  upon 
various  authority,  that  he  was  at  all  times  ready  to  speak  a  word  in 
season,  and  on  principle,  contrived  to  sanctify  all  his  intercourse 
with  his  fellow-men,  as  well  more  privately  as  publicly.  He  had 
many  opportunities  of  influencing  for  good  some  of  the  finest  minds 
of  the  age ;  and  he  availed  himself  of  such  opportunities.  He  was  wont, 
Samuel  Clarke  informs  us, '  in  the  summer  time,  to  go  abroad  to  the 
houses  of  some  worthy  personages,  where  he  was  an  instrument  of 
much  good,  not  only  by  his  private  labours,  but  by  his  prudent 
counsel  and  advice,  that  upon  every  occasion  he  was  ready  to  minis- 
ter unto  them.'  *  Charles  Stanford  has  well  limned  to  us  such 
\isits  in  Alleine's  day.  If  you  wish,  he  says,  '  to  see  what 
Puritan  life  was  like  in  "  the  high  places,"  go  with  Mr  Alleine  and 


CXviu  MEMOIR  OF  EICHABD  SIBBES,  D.D. 

his  brother  Norman,  to  spend  an  evening  with  Admiral  Blake  at 
his  country  house  at  Knowle.'  *  Instead  of  Alleine  let  us  go  with 
Sibbes,  and  instead  of  Admiral  Blake  at  Knowle,  let  the  visit  be 
to  John  Pym,  or  to  Lady  Mary  Vere,  or  to  Sir  Robert  and  Lady 
Brooke,  or  any  of  those  great  and  true  families,  whose  heads 

' bore,  without  abuse, 

The  grand  old  name  of  gentleman,' 

and  '  feared  God,'  and  were  '  lovers  of  all  good  men.'  Suppose 
Colonel  Hutchinson  and  the  Puritan  Admiral  to  be  also  guests. 
There  would  be  the  simple  meal, — the  Bible  would  be  brought  in, 
— there  would  be  prayer, — there  would  be  conversation  such  as 
Christians  love,  and  which  they  can  only  have  when  in  '  their  own 
company,' — there  would  probably  be  discourse,  in  logical  forms, 
on  some  of  the  mysteries  of  Christian  truth, — of  course,  there  would 
be  reasonings  over  some  '  case  of  conscience.'  Dr  Gouge  would  be 
apt  to  get  prosy,  in  discussing  the  opinions  of  Fragosa,  Talet, 
Sayrus,  and  Roderiques,  or  of  Doctors  Ursinus  or  Lobetius ; 
Master  Davenport  would  interpose  a  *  why'  or  '  how  ;'  and  Richard 
Sibbes  would  close  with  some  sweet  words  from  John  or  the 
Lord  himself,  modestly  confirming  his  own  elucidations  of  them 
from  Bernard,  or  with  a  quaint  saying  from  Luther,  or  a  wise 
apophthegm  from  Augustine.  Then  there  would  be  a  flow  of  grace- 
ful and  varied  talk,  not  only  on  politics  ('  Petition  of  Right,'  and  so 
on),  but  on  books,  pictures,  gardening,  or  the  last  scientific  experi- 
ments of  the  '  Oxford  Society;'  and  the  tall-browed  statesman,  and 
the  great  sailor,  '  would  affect  a  droll  concern  to  prove  before  the 
ministers,  by  the  aptness  and  abundance  of  their  Latin  quotations, 
that  in  becoming  '  leader  in  the  House '  and  admiral,  they  had  not 
forfeited  their  claim  to  be  considered  good  classics.'  You  could 
not  find  better  types  of  the  winning,  yet  stately  Christian  gentle- 
man, than  among  such  Puritan  circles  ;  and  where  will  you  match 
their '  fair  ladyes  V  We  have  confirmation  of  the  'visits'  and  of  their 
results  in  the  several  '  epistles '  and  '  dedications '  of  his  posthu- 
mous writings.  Each  of  these  records  personal  intercourse  and  kind- 
nesses, and  the  tenderest  cherishing  of  his  memory.  He  was  a  fre- 
quent guest  with  the  Earls  of  Manchester  and  Warwick,  and  Ladies 
Anne  and  Susanna,  their  Countesses,  Lord  Say  and  Seal,  Lord  Roberts^ 
Baron  Truro,  and  Lady  Lucie  his  consort,  but  most  of  all  with  the 
Brooks  and  Veres,  with  whom  he  lived  on  the  most  familiar  terms. 
The  'dedications'  and  'epistles'  will  be  found  in  their  respective 

*  Joseph  Alleme:  his  Companions  and  Times,  pp.  131-2;  and  Hepworth  Dixon's 
Life  of  Blake,  p.  267.  I  accommodate,  rather  than  quote  from  Stanford's  picturesque 
-and  masterly  work. 


MEMOIB  OP  RIOHABD  SIBBES,  D.D.  Cxis 

places ;  but,  as  it  reflects  interesting  light  and  mutual  honour  on 
both,  I  must  introduce  in  full  the  '  epistle  dedicatory'  of  the  '  Foun- 
tain Sealed,'  to  '  the  truly  noble  and  much  honoured  lady,  the 
Lady  Elizabeth  Brooke,  wife  to  Sir  Robert  Brooke,'  and  also  glean  a 
few  biographic  sentences  from  others.  The  'epistle'  to  Lady  Brooke, 
one  of  the  most  remarkable  women  of  England,  at  a  period  when 
there  were  many  such,  is  as  follows  : — 

To  the  truly  noble  and  much  honoured  lady,  the  Lady  Elizabeth  Bkooke, 
wife  to  Sir  Robert  Brooke. 
'  Madam, — ^Besides  that  deserved  interest  your  Ladyship  held  in  the 
affections  and  esteem  of  this  worthy  man  more  than  any  friend  aHve,  which 
might  entitle  you  to  all  that  may  call  him  author,  this  small  piece  of  his 
acknowledgeth  a  more  special  propriety  unto  your  Ladyship.  For  though 
his  tongue  was  as  the  pen  of  a  ready  writer  ia  the  hand  of  Christ,  who 
guided  him,  yet  your  Ladyship's  hand  and  pen  was  in  this  his  scribe  and 
amanuensis,  whilst  he  dictated  a  first  draught  of  it  in  private,  with  intention 
for  the  public.  In  which  labour,  both  of  humility  and  love,  your  Lady- 
ship did  that  horour  unto  him  which  Baruch,  though  great  and  noble,  did 
but  receive  m  the  like  transcribing  the  words  of  Jeremiah  from  his  mouth, 
wherein  yet  your  Ladyship  did  indeed  but  write  the  story  of  your  own  life, 
which  hath  been  long  exactly  framed  to  the  rules  herein  prescribed.  We, 
therefore,  that  are  mtrusted  m  the  pubhshing  of  it,  deem  it  but  an  act  of 
justice  in  us  to  return  it  thus  to  your  Ladyship,  unto  whom  it  owes  even 
its  first  birth,  that  so,  wherever  this  httle  treatise  shall  come,  there  also 
this  that  you  have  done  may  be  told  and  recorded  for  a  memorial  of  you. 
And  we  could  not  but  esteem  it  also  an  addition  of  honour  to  the  work, 
that  no  less  than  a  lady's  hand,  so  pious  and  so  much  honoured,  brought 
it  forth  into  the  world,  although  in  itself  it  deserveth  as  much  as  any  other 
this  blessed  womb  did  bear.  The  Lord,  in  way  of  recompense,  write  all  the 
holy  contents  of  it  yet  more  fully  and  abundantly  in  yom-  ladyship's  heart, 
and  all  the  lineaments  of  the  unage  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  seal  up  all  unto 
you  by  his  blessed  Spirit,  with  joy  and  peace,  to  the  day  of  redemption. — 
Madam,  we  are  your  Ladyship's  devoted,  Thos.  Goodwin. 

Philip  Nye. 
^  It  was  no  uncommon  thing  for  ladies  moving  in  the  highest 
circles  thus  to  'take  down'  the  sermons  of  their  ministers,  or 
discharge  the  office  of  amanuenses.  Contemporaneously  with  Lady 
Brooke  we  find  Lady  Elizabeth  Rich,  another  of  Sibbes's  friends, 
transcribing  and  preparing  for  the  press  William  Strong's  great 
folio  '  Of  the  Covenants.'*  Of  Lady  Brooke,  her  biographer  Park- 
hurst  states,  among  many  other  things  of  note,  that — 

'  She  used  a  mighty  mdustry  to  presei-ve  what  either  instr^^*- 1  i^<^v  mind 
or  affected  her  heart  m  the  sermons  she  had  heard.  To  li.o..  ..ue  gave 
great  attention  in  the  Assembly,  and  heard  them  repeated  in  her  family. 
And  thus  she  would  discourse  of  them  m  the  evening ;  and  in  the  foilow- 
mg  week  she  had  them  agam  repeated,  and  discoursed  the  matter  of  them 
to  some  of  her  family  m  her  chamber.  And  besides  all  this,  she  wrote  the 
substance  of  them,  and  then  digested  many  of  them  mto  questions  and 
*  1678.    Dedication  by  Theophilus  Galo  to  Lady  Elizabeth  Eich. 


CXX  MEMOIR  OF  EICHAKD  SIBBES,  D.D. 

.answers,  or  under  heads  of  common-places,  and  then  they  became  to  her 
matter  for  repeated  meditation.  And  by  these  methods  she  was  always  in- 
creasing her  knowledge,  or  confirming  the  things  that  were  known.'  * 

Addressing  Lord  Roberts,  Baron  Truro,  and  Lady  Lucie,  John 
Sedgfwick  thus  commences  his  '  dedication '  of  the  '  Beams  of  Divine 
Light :' — 

'  Bight  Honourable  and  truly  Noble, — It  was  not  so  much  the  nobility 
of  your  blood,  as  that  of  grace  given  unto  you  from  the  divine  hand,  which 
did  so  much  interest  you  in  the  love  and  esteem  of  that  u-orthy  servant  of  Chiist, 
the  author  of  this  work,  in  whom  Urim  and  Thummim  met,  whose  whole 
course  being  a  real  and  vital  sermon,  sweetly  consonant  to  the  tenor  of  his 
teaching,  made  him  amiable  living  and  honourable  dead,  in  the  opinion  of 
as  many  as  well  knew  him.  This  was  the  thing,  I  suppose,  which  wrought 
unto  him  from  you,  as  well  as  from  many  others  of  your  noble  stock  and  rank, 
more  than  an  ordinary  esteem.'  | 

Again,  in  like  manner  he  addresses  Robert,  Earl  of  Warwick,  and 
Lady  Susanna,  in  '  Light  from  Heaven  :' — 

'  For  me  to  commend  the  author,  were  to  make  the  world  to  judge  him 
either  a  stranger  unto  you,  or  a  man  that  had  not  ingratiated  himself  with 
you  ivhilst  he  lived  near  unto  you.     I  well  knew  that  he  had  an  honourable 

opinion  of  you  both,  and  of  yours You  that  knew  and  loved  him 

so  well  shall,  in  vouchsafing  to  read  over  these  ensuing  sermons,  find  his 
spirit  in  them.'| 

These  *  testimonies '  might  be  greatly  multiplied,  and  it  is  very 
pleasing  to  know  that  one  who  so  carried  about  with  him  the 
*  sweet  savour '  of  Christ  was  thus  welcomed  at  the  Kimboltons, 
and  Cockfields,  and  Hevinghams,  and  other  of  the  family  seats 
and  castles  of  the  nobility  and  gentry.  It  is  especially  honourable 
to  Sibbes  that  he  received  such  cordial  welcome  from  the  nobles 
and  gentry  of  his  own  native  county  of  Suffolk.  The  Tostock 
'  wheelwright's '  son  reversed  the  too  often  true  saying  of  a  pro- 
phet not  being  without  honour  'save  in  his  own  country  and 
among  his  own  kin.'  The  Day  will  declare  the  good  effected 
by  these  summer  visits  and  'conferences  in  private,  done  aptly, 
pithily,  and  profitably  ....  much  in  few  words.' § 

While  thus  a  visitor  among  the  '  great  ones,'  he  did  not  forget 
his  birth-place  or  school-boy  haunts,  his  'mother,  and  brethren.' 
I  turn  here  to  the  manuscript  of  the  Vicar  of  Thurston  : — 

•  Anno  Domini  1608.  I  came  to  be  minister  of  Thurston,  and  he  was 
then  a  Fellow  of  the  College,  and  a  preacher  of  good  note  in  Cambridge, 
and  we  soon  grew  weU  acquainted.     For  whensoever  he  came  down  into  the 

♦  Quoted  in  Wilford's  '  Memorials  and  Characters,'  folio,  1741,  page  210.  Con^ 
Bult  pp.  209-218,  and  Appendix  xvii. 

t  Ep.  Ded.,  4to,  1639.  %  Ep.  Ded.,  4to,  1638. 

g  '  Epistle  Dedicatory '  to  '  Evangelical  Sacrifices,'  4to,  1640, 


I 


MEMOIR  OF  RICHAKD  SIBBES,  D.D.  CXXl 

country  to  visit  his  mother  and  brethren  (his  father  being  deceased)  he 
would  never  fail  to  preach  with  us  on  the  Lord's  day,  and  for  the  most  part 
twice,  telling  me  that  it  was  a  work  of  charity  to  help  a  constant  and  a  pain- 
ful preacher,  for  so  he  was  pleased  to  conceive  of  me.  And  if  there  were 
a  communion  appointed  at  any  time  he  would  be  sure  not  to  withdraw  him- 
self after  sermon,  but  receiving  the  bread  and  wine  at  my  hands,  he  would 
always  assist  me  in  the  distribution  of  the  cup  to  the  congregation.' 

The  church  of  Thurston,  in  which  Sibbes  thus  ministered,  has 
only  within  these  two  years  disappeared.  Its  great  tower  fell,  and 
it  was  found  necessary  to  rebuild  the  whole.  This  has  been  done 
nearly  in  fac-simile  of  the  original.*  The  parsonage  of  the  excel- 
lent vicar  remains.  It  has  degenerated  into  a  kind  of  farmer's  house, 
but  on  a  recent  visit  I  found  many  traces  of  former  elegance  and 
comfort.  It  is  two-storied,  with  lozenge-paned  windows,  and  heavy 
sculptured  doorway.  In  front  is  an  avenue  of  noble  chesnuts  and 
beeches,  and  poUard  limes.  The  '  garden '  must  have  been  of  con- 
siderable extent.  Imagination  was  busy  calling  up  Sibbes  and 
Catlin  walking  arm-in-arm  along  the  mossed  avenue.  I  stepped 
across  the  threshold  of  the  ancient  house,  sat  down  by  the  carved 
mantel-pieced  fireside  with  reverence.  It  was  something  to  know 
that  there  our  worthies  had  many  and  many  a  time  exchanged 
loving  words,  perhaps  smoked  a  pipe. 

Finely  does  the  vicar  continue  his  personal  reminiscences  of  the 
visits  to  Thurston,  and  of  his  friend's  kindnesses.  We  must  again 
listen  to  him  : — 

'  As  for  his  kindness  to  his  kindred,  and  neglect  of  the  world,  it  was  very 
remarkable.  For  this  I  can  testify  of  my  own  knowledge,  that,  purchasing 
of  Mr  Tho.  Clark  and  others  iu  our  town  a  messuage  and  lands  at  several 
times  to  the  value  of  fifty  pounds  per  annum,  he  paid  the  fines  to  the  lords 
but  never  took  one  penny  of  the  rents  or  profits  of  them,  but  left  the  benefit 
wholly  to  his  mother  and  his  two  brethren  as  long  as  he  hved.  So  much  did 
this  heavenly-miaded  man  of  God'  ('heavenly'  seems  instinctively  to  drop 
from  every  one  who  writes  of  him)  '  shght  this  present  world  (which  the 
most  men  are  so  loth  to  part  withal  when  they  die)  that  he  freely  and  un- 
desired  parted  with  it  whilst  he  lived,  requiring  nothing  of  them  but  only 
to  be  hberal  to  the  poor.  Nay,  over  and  besides,  if  any  faithful,  honest 
man  came  down  from  Cambridge  or  London,  where  he  hved,  by  whom  he 
might  conveniently  send,  he  seldom  or  never  failed  to  send  his  mother  a 

*  An  engraving  of  the  cliurch  as  it  was  before  its  fall  is  given  in  one  of  those 
privately  printed  family  histories,  for  which  we  are  indebted  to  the  love  of  the 
Americans  towards  their  mother  country.  '  The  Brights  of  Suffolk,  England ;  repre- 
sented in  America  by  the  descendants  of  Henry  Bright  jun.,  who  came  to  New 
England  in  1630,  and  settled  in  Watertown,  Massachusetts.  By  J.  B.  Bright.  For 
private  circulation.  Boston.  1  vol.  royal  8vo.  1858.'  See  opposite  page  109. 
This  book  is  of  the  deepest  interest,  well  arranged,  and  illustrated  lavishly  with 
portraits  and  other  illustrations.'  Mr  Bright  in  the  most  obliging  manner  sent  me 
a  copy. 


CXXli  M2M0IR  OF  RICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D. 

piece  of  gold,  for  the  most  part  a  ten  slailling  piece,  but  five  shillings  was 
the  least, -!=  and  this  he  continued  as  long  as  his  mother  lived.  And  would 
she  have  been  persuaded  to  exchange  her  country  life  for  the  city,  he  often 
told  me  that  he  would  willingly  have  maintained  her  there  in  good  view  auL 
fashion,  like  his  mother,  but  she  had  no  mind  to  alter  her  accustomed  course 
of  life  in  her  old  days,  contenting  herself  with  her  own  means,  and  that 
addition  which  her  son  made  thereunto.' 

And  still  farther  the  good  old  man  continues,  with  a  love  and 
reverence  most  affecting,  and  that  only  a  true  man  could  have  se- 
cured : — 

'  For  his  special  kindness  to  myself,  in  particular,  I  cannot  omit  that, 
being  trusted  by  personages  of  quality  with  divers  sums  of  money  for  pious 
and  charitable  uses,  he  was  pleased,  among  many  others,  not  to  forget  me. 
At  one  time  he  sent  me  down  three  twenty- shiUing  pieces  of  gold  enclosed 
in  a  letter,  and  at  two  other  times  he  delivered  to  me  with  his  own  hand 
two  twenty-shiUing  pieces  more ;  and  so  far  was  this  humble  saint  from 
Pharisaical  ostentation  and  vainglory,  and  from  taking  the  honour  of  these 
good  works  to  himself,  that  he  plainly  told  me  that  these  gratuities  were 
not  of  his  own  cost,  but  being  put  in  trust,  and  left  to  his  own  discretion 
in  the  distribution,  he  looked  upon  me  as  one  that  took  great  pains  in  my 
ministry  and  in  teaching  scholars,  and  at  that  time  labouring  under  the 
burden  of  a  great  charge  of  children,  and  so  thought  me  a  fit  object  of  their 
intended  charity.  And  from  myself  his  love  descended  down  to  my  son 
for  my  sake,  for  whom  (before  he  had  ever  seen  him,  being  then  at  the 
grammar-school  at  Bury,  he  then,  chosen  Master  of  Katherine  Hall,  pro- 
mised me  a  scholarship  there  of  five  pounds  a  year,  and  to  provide  for  him 
a  tutor  and  a  chamber.  And  such  was  his  constancy  of  spirit  and  his 
reality,  that  whatsoever  promise  he  made  me  he  would  be  sure  both  to  re- 
member it  and  to  make  it  good  as  freely  as  he  first  made  it,  that  was  un- 
asked and  undesired.  And  for  these  manifold  kindnesses  all  that  he  de- 
su-ed  at  my  hands  was  no  more  but  this,  that  I  would  be  careful  of  the 
soids  of  my  j^eople,  and,  in  sjjecial,  of  his  motlier,  his  brethren,  and  his  sisters, 
and  would  give  them  good  counsel  in  their  disposing  themselves  in  mar- 
riage, or  upon  any  other  occasion,  as  I  saw  they  stood  in  need.  And  this 
one  thing  I  may  not  pass  over  concerning  myself,  that  in  his  last  wiU  and 
testament  he  gave  me  a  legacy  of  forty  shilHngs,  with  the  title  of  "  his  loving 
friend,"  which  I  the  rather  mention,  because  I  had  not  the  least  thought  to 
have  been  in  that  sort  remembered  by  him  at  his  death,  living  at  no  less 
distance  from  him  than  of  threescore  miles.  In  a  word,  such  was  the  low- 
liness of  this  sweet  servant  of  God,  such  his  learning,  parts,  piety,  pru- 
dence, humility,  sincerity,  love,  and  meekness  of  spirit  (whereof  every  one 
was  a  loadstone  to  attract,  unite,  and  fasten  my  spirit  close  to  his),  that  I 
profess  ingenuously  no  man  that  ever  I  was  acquainted  withal  got  so  far 
into  my  heart  or  lay  closer  there,  so  that  many  times  I  could  not  part  firom 
him  with  dry  eyes.  But  who  am  I  ?  or  what  is  it  to  be  beloved  of  me, 
especially  for  him  that  had  so  many  and  great  friends  as  he  had  ?  Yet  even 
to  me  the  great  God  is  pleased  to  say,  "  My  son,  give  me  thy  heart," 
and  this  poor  and  contrite  heart  I  know  he  will  not  despise ;  and  this  heart 
of  mine,  as  small  as  it  is,  yet  is  too  great  to  close  with  a  proud,  profane, 
worldly,  malicious  heart,  though  it  be  in  a  prince.     But  true  virtue  and 

*  This  may  fairly  be  considered  equal  to  a  pound  of  our  present  money. 


MEMOIR  OF  RICHAKD  SIBBES,  D.D.  CXXUl 

grace  are  tlie  image  of  God  himself,  and  where  they  are  discerned  by  wis- 
dom's children  they  command  the  heart  and  are  truly  lovely  and  venerable, 
whereas  carnal  notions  and  unmortified  affections  (whereof  this  man  of  God 
was  as  free  as  any  man  I  know  Uving),  they  do  render  a  man,  whatever  he 
be,  if  not  hateftd  and  contemptible,  yet  at  least  less  lovely  and  honourable. 
But  my  love  to  this  good  man  hath  transported  me  beyond  my  purpose, 
which  was  to  speak  of  some  things  less  visible  to  others,  especially  con- 
cerning his  first  education.  For  when  he  came  to  the  university  and  the 
city,  there  his  Life  and  actions  were  upon  a  public  theatre,  and  his  own 
words,  without  a  trumpet,  would  praise  him  in  the  gates.  As  for  his  kind- 
ness to  his  kindred  and  to  myself,  I  know  none  that  took  more  notice  ol 
them  than  I,  and  therefore  I  could  not  hide  them  from  the  world  upon 
this  occasion  without  some  kind  of  sacrilege.' 

Thanks,  chatty  Zachary,  for  thy  golden  words  I  Thou  wert  a 
meet  companion  of  Richard  Sibbes  !  Would  that  we  might  recover 
thy  '  Hidden  Treasure,'  *  for,  of  a  truth,  it  must  breathe  thy  very 
spirit !  All  the  notices  of  the  author  of  The  Bruised  Reed  and 
Soul's  Conflict  harmonise  with  the  tribute  of  the  vicar  of  Thurston. 
Whether  it  be  Clark  or  Thomas  Fuller,  Prynne  or  Eachard,  or  his 
numerous  'prefacers,'  he  is  invariably  spoken  of  with  the  most 
touching  kindliness. 


CHAPTER  XI.  '"'"  "'     . 

'  THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  END.' 

Eetrospect — Character — Humility — the  English  Leighton — his  '  Cygnea-Cantio ' 

vel  Concio. 

We  have  now  reached  '  the  beginning  of  the  end.'  A  few  months 
later,  and  Richard  Sibbes  lay  dying.  But  at  this  point,  I  would 
observe,  that  up  to  the  latest  he  continued  faithfully  to  execute  his 
office  as  a  '  preacher  of  the  word'  Left  alone  (for  Preston  was  gone : 
and  Cotton,  and  Davenport,  and  Hooker,  and  many  others  of  his 
circle,  were  fugitives  in  New  England),  he  had  ever-increasing  de- 
mands made  upon  him,  and  no  '  door  of  entrance'  was  opened  into 
which  he  did  not  enter,  still 

'  Hoping  through  the  darkest  day.'  f 
He  continued  to  preach  at  Gray's  Inn,  in  the  good  old  way,  the 
simple  gospel  that  Paul  preached,  and  that  of  all  men  John  Cal- 
vin, following  Augustine,  in  his  estimate,   had  best  interpreted. 

*  The  following  is  the  title,  from  Crowe's  Catalogue  of  our  English  writers  on 
Old  and  New  Testament,  &c.,  1668 : — '  Hidden-Treasure,  two  sermons  on  Mat 
Xiii.  44.     4to.     1633'     Can  any  reader  help  to  this  ? 

t  Poems  by  Currer,  EUis,  and  Acton  Bell,  p.  34,  12mo.     1846. 


CXXIV  MEMOIE  OF  EICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D. 

He  resided  with  enlarged  acceptability  as  Master  of  Catharine 
Hall,  adding  to  its  Fellows,  and  Students,  and  Revenues,  and  from 
1632-3,  he  was,  as  already  recorded.  Vicar  of  Trinity,  Cambridge. 
One  incidental  sentence  informs  us,  that  he  was  very  fully,  if  not 
over,  occupied,  even  before  his  presentation  to  the  Vicarage  of 
Trinity.  It  occurs  at  the  close  of  the  address  '  To  the  Christian 
Reader'  prefixed  to  '  The  Bruised  Reed  :'  '  What  I  shall  be  drawn 
to  do  in  this  kind,'  he  says,  '  must  be  by  degrees,  as  leisure  in  the 
TYiidst  of  many  interruptions  will  permit! 

His  was  a  self-sacrificing,  self-consuming  life.  Quaintly  does 
Mather  put  it  of  another.  '  There,'  he  says,  '  'twas  that,  like  a  silk- 
worm, he  spent  his  own  bowels  or  spirits  to  procure  the  "  garments 
of  righteousness  "  for  his  hearers  ;  there  'twas  ...  he  might  chal- 
lenge the  device  and  motto  of  the  famous  Dr  Sibs,  a  wasting  lamp, 
with  this  inscription,  "  Prcelucendo  pereo,"  or,  "  My  light  is  my 
death."'* 

Another  casual  reference  indicates  earlier  personal  sickness.  He 
closes  one  of  his  '  Epistles '  prefixed  to  Ballf  by  saying,  '  Mine  own 
weakness  of  body  taketh  me  off.' 

His  published  writings  afford  the  best  evidence  of  what  stamp 
his  preaching  was.  The  most  cursory  reader  is  struck  with 
the  Paul-like  kindling  of  emotion,  the  Paul-like  burning  of  utter- 
ance, as  often  as  the  name  of  Christ  occurs  ;  and  it  is  most  interest- 
ing to  mark  the  majestic  procession  of  his  words  as  he  walks  along 
some  great  avenue  of  thought,  leading  up  to  the  cross,  and  from  the 
cross,  in  farther  vista,  to  the  house  of  many  mansions,  and  to  the 
throne  of  sculptured  light.    Very  beautifully  does  Clarke  put  this : — 

His  learning  was  mixed  with  humility,  whereby  he  always  esteemed  lowly 
of  himself,  and  was  ready  to  undervalue  his  own  labours,  though  others 
judged  them  to  breathe  spirit  and  life,  to  be  strong  of  heaven,  speaking  with 
authority  and  power  to  men's  consciences.  His  care  in  the  course  of  his 
ministry  was  to  lay  a  good  ^foundation  in  the  heads  and  hearts  of  his 
hearers.  And  though  he  were  a  wise  master-builder,  and  that  in  one  of 
the  eminentest  auditories  for  learning  and  piety  that  was  in  the  land,  as  was 
said  before,  yet  according  to  the  grace  which  was  given  to  him  (which  was 
indeed  like  that  of  EHsha  in  regard  of  the  other  prophets,  2  Kings  i.  9, 
the  elder  brother's  privilege,  a  double  portion),  he  was  still  taking  all  occa- 
sions to  preach  of  the  fundamentals  to  them ;  and  amongst  the  rest,  of  the 
incarnation  of  the  Son  of  God,  one  of  the  chief  fundamentals  of  our  faith, 
one  of  the  chief  of  those  wonders  in  the  mercy-seat  which  the  cherubim 
gaze  at,  which  the  angels  desire  to  pry  into,  1  Pet.  i.  12.  And  preaching 
at  several  times,  and  by  occasion  of  so  many  several  texts  of  Scripture  con- 
cerning this  subject,  there  is  scarce  any  one  of  those  incomparable  benefits 
which  accrue  to  us  thereby,  nor  any  of  those  holy  impressions  which  the 
meditation  hereof  ought  to  make  on  our  hearts,  which  was  not  by  him 
•  Life  of  Urian  Oakes.   Magnalia  Am.  as  ante,  b.  iv.  pp.  186,  187.         t  ^«^«  P-  c^* 


MEMOIR  OF  EICHAED  SIBBES,  D.D.  CXXV 

Bweetly  unfolded,  as  may  appear  by  those  sermons  now  in  print.  *  And 
therefore,'  saith  a  reverend  divine,  '  the  noted  humility  of  the  author  I  less 
wonder  at,  finding  how  often  his  thoughts  dwelt  upon  the  humiliation  of 
Christ.'* 

The  '  reverend  divine'  referred  to  was  Thomas  Fuller,  who  plays 
with  the  conceit  in  his  own  wisely-witty  way.  We  cannot  pass 
it  by  :— 

He  was  most  eminent  for  that  grace  which  is  most  worth,  yet  costs  the 
least  to  keep  it,  viz.,  Christian  hmnility.  Of  all  points  of  divinity,  he  most 
frequently  pressed  that  of  Christ's  incarnation  ;  and  if  the  angels  desired  to 
pry  into  that  mystery,  no  wonder  if  this  angelical  man  had  a  longing  to  look 
therein.  A  learned  divine  imputed  this  good  doctor's  great  humility  to  his 
much  meditating  on  that  point  of  Christ's  humiliation  when  he  took  our 
flesh  upon  him.  K  it  be  true  what  some  hold  in  physic,  that  omne  par 
nutrit  suum  par,  that  the  vitals  of  our  body  are  most  strengthened  by  feed- 
ing on  such  meats  as  are  Hkest  unto  them,  I  see  no  absurdity  to  maintain 
that  men's  souls  improve  most  in  those  graces  whereon  they  have  most 
constant  meditation,  whereof  this  worthy  doctor  was  an  eminent  instance. f 

Aye,  quaint  and  loveable  Fuller,  and  there  is  a  higher  autho- 
rity than  '  physic'  for  it,  even  2  Cor.  iii.  18,  '  We  all,  with  open  face 
beholding  as  in  a  glass  the  glory  of  the  Lord,  are  changed  into  the 
same  image  from  glory  to  glory,  even  of  the  Lord,  the  Spirit/ 

Thus  growing  in  holiness  and  humility,  Richard  Sibbes  passed 
along  his  '  pilgrimage.'  We  have  found  that  he  lived  in  troublous 
times,  and  that  he  did  not  escape  his  own  share  of  its  trials  and 
persecution.  It  had  argued  time-serving  or  a  cold  neutrality  had 
it  been  otherwise.  We  find  him  also  taking  a  fitting  stand  for  '  the 
truth,'  and  speaking  brave  and  noble  words,  and  flinching  not  from 
giving  them  to  the  world.  At  the  same  time,  it  must  be  apparent 
to  all  who  have  followed  our  memoir  thus  far,  that  naturally  Sibbes 
was  of  a  '  meek  and  quiet  spirit,'  willing  to  bear  and  forbear  much. 
I  picture  him  as  an  English  '  Leighton,'  as  he  has  been  pourtrayed 
in  a  little  volume  of  'poems,'  entitled  '  The  Bishop's  Walk;.'+  We 
have  to  change  very  little  in  the  scenery,  have  but  to  translate 
'  Dunblane'  to  the  *  fair  garden'  lined  with  elms,  of  Gray's  Inn,  or  to 
the  acacia-bordered  '  Walk'  of  St  Catherine  Hall,  Cambridge,  or, 
perhaps,  to  the  bosky  glades  of  the  Veres,  or  Brooks,  or  Man- 
chesters,  or  Warwicks.     I  invite  my  readers  to  judge  : — 

*  Clarke,  ante  p.  144. 

t  Fuller's  '  Worthies,'  ante  p.  343  of  vol.  ii. 

X  The  Bish  op's  Walk  and  the  Bishop's  Times,  By  Orwell.  Cambridge  :  Macmillan 
and  Co.  1861.  The  measure  will  reveal  the  source  of  earlier  quotations  in  this 
memoir ;  and  certainly  the  gifted  author  promises  to  take  a  high  place  among  the 
poets  of  Scotland.  It  may  be  noted  here,  that  among  the  few  Puritan  books  in  the 
library  of  Leighton  (preserved  at  Dunblane)  are  Sibbes's  Bruised  Eeed  (6th  edition, 
1638)  and  Soul'a  Conflict  (4th  edition,  1638). 


CXXVl 


MEMOIR  OP  BICHARD  SIBBES,  D,l>. 


.Two  hundred  years  have  come  and  gone, 
Since  that  fine  spirit  mused  alone 
On  the  dim  walk,  with  faint  green  shade 
By  the  light  quivering  ash-leaves  made, 
And  saw  the  sun  go  down 
Beyond  the  mountains  brown. 

Slow  pacing  with  a  lowly-look, 
Or  gazing  on  the  lettered  book 
Of  Tauler,  or  A  Kempis,  or 
Meek  Herbert  with  his  dulcimer. 

In  quaintly  pious  vein 

Kehearsing  a  deep  strain  : 

Or  in  the  Gold-mouthed  Greek  he  read 

High  rhetoric,  or  what  was  said 

Of  Augustine's  experience, 

Or  of  the  Gospel's  grand  defence 

Before  assembled  lords, 

In  Luther's  battle-words. 

Slow-pacing,  with  a  downcast  eye, 
Which  yet,  in  rapt  devotion  high. 
Sometimes  its  great  dark  orb  would  lift, 
And  pierced  the  veil,  and  caught  the  swift 
Glance  of  an  angel's  wing. 
That  of  the  Lamb  did  sing ; 

And  with  the  fine  pale  shadow,  wrought 
Upon  his  cheek  by  years  of  thought. 
And  lines  of  weariness  and  pain, 
And  looks  that  long  for  home  again ; 
So  went  he  to  and  fro 
"With  step  infirm  and  slow. 

A  frail,  slight  form — no  temple  he, 

Grand,  for  abode  of  Deity ; 

Rather  a  bush,  inflamed  with  grace, 

And  trembling  in  a  desert  place, 
And  unconsumed  with  fire. 
Though  burning  high  and  higher, 


A  frail,  slight  form,  and  pale  with  caxe» 
And  paler  from  the  raven  hair 
That  folded  from  a  forehead  free 
Godlike  of  breadth  and  majesty — 
A  brow  of  thought  supreme 
And  mystic,  glorious  dream. 

And  over  all  that  noble  face 
Lay  somewhat  of  soft  pensiveness 
In  a  fine  golden  haze  of  thought. 
That  seemed  to  waver  light,  and  float 
This  way  and  that  way  still, 
With  no  firm  bent  of  will. 

God  made  him  beautiful,  to  be 
Drawn  to  all  beauty  tenderly, 
And  conscious  of  all  beauty,  whether 
In  things  of  earth  or  heaven  or  neither ; 
So  to  rude  men  he  seemed 
Often  as  one  that  dreamed. 

But  true  it  was  that,  in  his  soul, 
The  needle  pointed  to  the  pole, 
Yet  trembled  as  it  pointed,  still 
Conscious  alike  of  good  and  ill ; 
In  his  infirmity 
Looking,  0  Lord,  to  thee. 

Beautiful  spirit !  fallen,  alas. 
On  times  when  little  beauty  was ; 
Still  seeking  peace  amid  the  strife, 
Still  working,  weary  of  thy  life, 
Toiling  in  holy  love. 
Panting  for  heaven  above : 

I  mark  thee,  in  an  evil  day. 
Alone  upon  a  lonely  way ; 
More  sad-companionless  thy  fate, 
Thy  heart  more  truly  desolate, 

Than  even  the  misty  glen 

Of  persecuted  men. 


For  none  so  lone  on  earth  as  he 
Whose  way  of  thought  is  high  and  free 
Beyond  the  mist,  beyond  the  cloud, 
Beyond  the  clamour  of  the  crowd. 
Moving,  where  Jesus  trod. 
In  the  lone  walk  with  God. 


We  have  here  the  very  man  before  us,  and  the  very  books  he 
ioved,  and  the  very  age  he  '  fell  on,'  and  from  which  he  was  '  taken 
away.'  Looking  at  the  portrait,  over  and  over  engraved  for  the 
early  quartos  and  duodecimos,  and  his  one  folio,  Richard  Sibbes 
must  have  been  a  man  of  larger  mould,  of  more  massive  head, 
ampler  brain-chamber,  keener  vision  than  Robert  Leighton.*    As 

*  Russell,  in  his  'Memorials  of  Fuller'  (1844),  and  Mr  Mayor,  in  his  prefatory 
remarks  to  Catlin's  MS.,  from  the  Baker  MSS.,  have  anticipated  the  comparison  of 
Sibbes  with  Leighton.  The  former  says— 'Dr  Richard  Sibbes  ...  a  writer  sur- 
passed by  none  in  that  purity  and  depth  of  true  spirituality,  which  also  characterised 


«  MEMOIR  OF  EICHAKD  SIBBES,  D.D.  CXXVU 

one  studies  the  ruff-girted  '  Master '-capped  face,  a  more  robust 
soul  looks  out  from  the  benignant  eyes.  The  seamed  and  lined 
forehead  tells  of  deeper  thinking,  not  without  storms  of  doubt  and 
wrestling  (that  always  so  leave  their  mark,  like  the  waves  on  the 
sea-shore  sands,  as  though  the  soul's  mystic  sea  beat  there).  But 
the  '  inner  men,'  in  their  spiritual-mindedness,  unworldliness,  meek- 
ness, humility,  peacefulness,  surely  very  closely  resemble  one  an- 
other. 

But  now  the  stage  darkens  for  *  the  end,' 

•  Like  a  cave's  shadow  enter'd  at  mid-day.'  * 

He  has  to  preach  but  other  two  '  sermons,'  and  then  go  forth 
on  the  last  great  journey.  With  strange  fitness  he  chooses  for 
his  texts,  John  xiv.  1,  2,  *  Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled  ;  ye 
believe  in  God,  believe  also  in  me.  In  my  Father's  house  are 
many  mansions  ;  if  it  were  not  so,  I  would  have  told  you.'  These 
two  sermons  will  appear  in  an  early  volume. 


CHAPTER  XII 

*  THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  SHADOW  OF  DEATH.' 

Last  Illness— Finishes  '  The  Soul's  Conflict ' — Draws  up  his  '  Will ' — 
'Falls  on  Sleep.' 

Having  preached  the  last  of  these  two  '  sermons,'  he  '  fell  sick 
that  very  night,  June  28,'  with  some  un-named  illness.  FeeUng 
that  he  was  indeed  dying,  he,  on  *  July  1,'  put  the  finishing  touches 
to  his  '  Address  to  the  Christian  Reader,'  for  the  '  Soul's  Conflict,' 
which  had  been  passing  through  the  press  during  bis  absence  at 
Cambridge.  Glancing  over  the  proof-sheets,  he  detected  certain 
passages  which  he  found  misunderstood,  and  noticed  them  ;  but 
apparently  was  too  weak  to  do  more.  On  the  4th,  he  *  set  his  house 
in  order,'  by  revising  and  altering  his  *  last  will  and  testament.' 
He  had  many  friends,  gentle  and  simple,  and  it  is  with  no  com- 
mon satisfaction  that  it  is  in  our  power  to  present  this  closing  me- 
morial : — t 

Leighton  in  a  succeeding  age,*  p.  81.  The  latter — '  When  we  consider  the  beauty 
of  Sibbes'  language,  and  the  gentleness  of  his  temper,  in  both  which  respects  ho 
almost  deserves  the  name  of  the  Puritan  Leighton,  we  cannot  but  wonder  at  th« 
general  neglect  which  has  obscured  his  memory,'  p.  253. 

*  'Adon:'  Poems.     By  Mrs  Olive.     1856.     P.  89. 

t  Extracted  from  the  Principal  Registry  of  Her  Majesty's  Court  of  Probate,  in  the 
-.'rerogative  Court  of  Canterbury. 


CXXviii  MEMOIR  OF  RICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D.     '- 

'  In  the  name  of  God,  amen,  I,  Richard  Sibbs,  Doctor  of  Divinity, 
weake  in  body,  but  of  p'fect  memory,  doe  make  and  ordaine  tJbis  my  last 
will  and  testament,  in  manner  and  forme  foUoweing  :  First,  I  comend  and  be- 
queath my  soule  into  the  hands  of  my  gratious  Saviour,  whoe  hath  redeemed 
it  w**"  his  most  pretious  blood,  and  appeares  now  in  heaven  to  receave  it, 
with  humble  thankes  that  he  hath  vouchsafed  I  should  be  borne  and  live 
in  the  best  tymes  of  the  gospell,  and  have  my  interest  in  the  comforte  of  it ; 
as  alsoe,  that  he  hath  vouchsafed  me  the  honour  of  being  a  publisher 
thereof  w*^  some  measure  of  faythfullnes.  My  body  I  would  have  to  be 
buried  at  the  discretion  of  my  executors.  And  as  for  that  outward  estate 
that  God,  in  his  rich  goodnes,  hath  blessed  me  w*''all,  my  minde  and  will  is 
as  foUoweth :  First,  I  give  and  bequeath  unto  my  brother  Thomas  Sibbs  of 
Thurston,  in  the  countie  of  Suffolk,*  all  my  messuages,  lands,  and  tene- 
ments, with  the  appurtenances,  lyeing  and  being  in  Thurston  aforesaid,  or 
elsewhere,  for  and  dureing  the  terme  of  his  naturall  life  ;  and  after  my  said 
brother's  decease,  to  John  Sibbs,  sonne  of  my  late  brother  John  Sibbs,  and 
now  a  student  at  Katherine  Hall,  in  Cambridge,!  and  to  his  heires  for  ever  : 
Item,  I  give  unto  my  sister,  Margaret  Mason,  fourtie  pounds ;  and  unto 
the  children  of  my  late  sister,  Susann  Lopham,  deceased,  the  some  of 
thirty  pounds,  to  be  equally  devided  amongst  them ;  as  likewise,  I  give 
unto  the  children  of  my  late  sister,  Elizabeth  King,  deceased,  the  some  of 
fourtie  pounds,  to  be  equally  decided  amongst  them ;  the  said  threescore 
and  ten  pounds,  soe  given  to  the  children  of  my  said  sisters,  I  would  have 
payed  to  the  said  children,  severally  and  proporconably,  at  the  dayes  of  their 
man-iage,  or  when  they  shall  accomplish  their  severall  ages  of  one-and- 
twenty  yeares,  or  otherwise  sooner,  at  the  discretion  of  my  executors  :  Item, 
I  give  unto  my  uncle  Sibbs,  yf  he  be  liveing,  fourtie  shillings  ;  and  unto  the 

children  of  my  late  aunte who  dwelt  in  or  neer  Walding- 

feild,  in  Essex,  J  the  some  of  three  pounds  :  Item,  I  give  unto  my  cosen, 
Jeremy  Huske,  unto  my  cosins,  Anne  Beckett  and  Elizabeth  Beckett,  to 
every  of  them  fourtie  shillings  :  Item,  I  give  unto  the  poore  of  the  said 
towne  of  Thurston  twentie  shillings :  Item,  I  give  unto  such  of  my  poore 
kindred  as  are  now  dwelling  at  Stowlangton,  §  in  Suffolke,  or  elsewhere, 
whoe  are  now  knovrae  to  my  executors,  fourtie  shillings,  to  be  disposed 
according  to  the  discretion  of  my  executors :  Item,  I  give  unto  James 
Joyner  of  London,  whoe  hath  beene  very  faithfull  in  his  service  unto  me 
tenn  pounds  ;  and  to  my  loveing  frends,  Mr  Dermer,  haberdasher,  dwelling 
on  Ludgate  Hill,  twenty  shillings,  and  to  his  wife  twentie  shillings,  and  to 
Widdow  Dermer  twentie  shillings  ;  and  to  my  good  friends  Goodman  Pin- 
kaur  and  Goodman  Rocke,  dwelling  in  Perpoole  Lane,  to  each  of  them 
twenty  shillings :  Item,  I  give  unto  Mr  Nicholas  Parry,  steward  of  Grayes 
Inne,  three  pounds ;  and  to  Mr  Guy,  cheife  cooke  there,  a  ring  of  tenn 
shillings ;  and  to  his  under  servants,  to  be  disposed  at  his  discretion,  the 
some  of  twenty  shillings  in  the  whole :  Item,  I  give  unto  the  three  cheife 
butlers  of  Grayes  Inne,  to  every  of  them,  twenty  shillings  ;  alsoe,  I  give  unto 
the  inferiour  servants  of  that  house  twenty  shillings,  to  be  disposed  of  ac- 
cording to  the  discretion  of  the  steward  ;  and  as  for  that  Hono^'*  Sociefy  of 
Grayes  Inne,  I  have  nothing  to  bequeath  unto  it  but  the  prayers  of  a  sicke 
and  dyeing  man,  that  it  may  continue  to  be  still  a  semenary  of  worthy  men, 

*  See  B  in  Appendix  to  this  Memoir.  f  I^^^- 

X  This  io  a  slip.     It  is  in  Suffolk,  near  Sudbury,  on  borders  of  Essex. 

§  Stowlangtoft,  three  miles  from  Thurston. 


MEMOIE  OF  RICHABD  SIBBES,  D.D.  CXXIX 

whoe  may  be  alwayes  ready  to  maintame  religion  and  justice,  w**"  humble 
thankes  for  all  their  kindnesse  and  loveing  respects  towardes  mee  :  Item,  I 
give  unto  my  auncient  and  deare  frend,  ould  Mr  Mew,  in  remembrance  of 
my  love,  one  of  Mr  Downham's  books,  called  a  Direccon  to  a  Christian 
Life  ;*  and  to  my  deare  and  very  worthy  frend,  Mr  John  Pym,f  a  ring  of 
fourtie  shillings  :  Item,  I  give  unto  my  very  good  frend,  Mr  William  Mew, 
one  silver  spoone,  now  in  the  custody  of  James  Joyner  aforenamed :  Item, 
I  give  unto  the  poore  of  the  parrish  where  I  shal  be  buried  twenty  shillings : 
Item,  I  give  unto  my  very  worthy,  religious,  and  bountifull  frend,  Mrs 
Mary  Moore, |  as  a  poore  remembrance  of  my  harty  love  unto  her,  one  ryng 
of  fourtie  shillings ;  and  to  my  very  worthy  frends  S'  Robert  Brooke  of 
Langly,  to  his  lady,§  and  to  his  brother,  Mr  John  Brooke,  to  each  of  them 
a  ring  of  fourtie  shillings  ;  and  to  my  kind  frend,  Mr  Stevens  of  Gloucester- 
shire, aringii  oftwentie  shillings  ;  and  to  my  worthy  friend,  Mr  Capell,  IT  late 
preacher  in  Gloucestershire,  twenty  shilUngs  :  Item,  I  give  five  pounds  to 
the  poore  of  the  p'ishes  of  Trinity  and  St  Andrews,  in  Cambridge :  Item, 
Whereas  there  is  due  unto  me,  from  the  Colledge  of  St  Katherine,  in  Cam- 
bridge, one  hundred  pounds,  for  w"''  Mr  Goodwyn  and  Mr  Arrow  Smith** 
stand  bound  to  mee,  haveing  the  seale  of  the  said  colledge  for  their  securetie, 
I  doe  hereby  give  and  bequeath  unto  the  said  coUedge,  for  ever,  the  said 
some  of  one  hundred  pounds,  for  the  setling  of  a  scholarship  of  fewer  pounds 
p.  ann. ;  to  w"''  said  schollership  my  will  and  desire  is,  that  my  kinsman,  John 
Sibbs,  aforemenconed,  shal  be  first  elected  and  admitted;  and  that  in  all 
future  eleccons,  when  the  same  shal  be  void  in  tyme  to  come,  yf  any  of 
my  kindred  shal  be  then  students  in  the  said  colledge,  the  p'son  soe  of 
kynne  to  me  shal  be  p''ferred  before  another :  Item,  I  give  unto  my  loveing 
frend,  Mr  CatHne,  preacher  of  Thurston,  fourtie  shillings  :  Item,  I  give  unto 
my  good  frend,  Mr  Almond  of  Cambridge,  fyve  pounds,  praying  him  to  im- 
ploy  the  same  for  the  benefit  of  his  sonne  and  my  godsonne :  Item,  I  give 
unto  my  godsonne,  Richard  Clerk,  fortie  shillings ;  and  whereas,  by  the 
will  of  Mrs  Gardiner,  late  of  London,  widdow,  deceased,  I  was  desired  to 
dispose  a  certain  some  of  money,  in  such  manner  as  in  her  said  will  is  spe- 
cified, all  w"*"  money  hath  beene  accordingly  disposed,  excepting  only  fyve 
pounds,  payable  unto  Mr  Symons  of  Katherine  Hall,  my  will  therefore 
is  that  payment  be  made  of  the  said  fyve  pounds  unto  Mr  Symonds  afore- 
said ;  and  to  my  reverend  frende,  Dr  Gouge,  I  doe  give,  as  a  testimony  of 
my  love,  twenty  shilUngs,  desiring  him  to  take  the  paynes  to  preach  my 
funerall  sermon :  f-f-  Item,  My  will  is,  that  my  reverend  frend,  Mr  Downeham, 
shall  have  two  of  those  bookes  of  his  owne  making  backe  againe  w"**  were 
by  him  delivered  unto  me,  and  are  remayning  in  my  studie  at  Grayes  Inne  ; 
all  the  rest  of  my  goods  and  chatties,  my  funerall,  debts,  and  legacies  being 
payed  and  discharged,  I  give  unto  my  brother  and  kinsman  before  named — • 
that  is  to  sale,  to  my  brother  Thomas  Sibbs,  and  my  nephew  John  Sibbs, 
formerly  menconed,  whome,  together  w"*  John  Godbold  of  Grayes  Inne, 

*  Published  1622,  and  entitled  *  A  Guide  to  Godliness ;  or,  a  Treatise  of  a  Chris- 
tian Life.'  The  author  was  John  Downame  or  Downham,  B.D.,  brother  of  George, 
Bishop  of  Derry.     He  died  1644. 

t  See  references  in  loc.  at  p.  cxxxvii,  Appendix  A 

X  Sibbes  dedicates  Culverwell's  '  Time  Well-spent '  to  her,  ante  p.  xciii,  «ej. 

J  See  reference  in  loc.  p.  cxxxvii,  Appendix  A. 

II  Ibid.  f  Ibid.  **  Drs  Goodwin  and  Arrowsmith. 

tt  See  Mr  Mayor's  note  in  loc.     Appendix  A. 


CXXX  MEMOIR  OF  EICHARD  SIBBES,  D.D. 

Esquire,  I  doe  hereby  ordayne,  constitute,  and  appoynt  to  be  the  executors 
of  this  my  last  will  and  testament,  giving  unto  the  said  Mr  Godbould  a 
peece  of  my  owne  plate,  such  as  himself  shall  choose  out  of  that  plate  of 
myne,  which  is  now  in  the  custody  of  the  said  James  Joyner ;  and  I  doe 
entreate  my  worthy  and  very  loveing  frends,  S''  Nathaniel  Rich,  Sir  Natha- 
nieU  Barnardiston,*  and  S''  William  Spring,  Knighte,t  to  be  overseers  of  this 
my  will,  desireing  my  executors,  in  all  things  of  difficulty,  to  be  advised  by 
them  in  the  execution  of  the  same ;  and  as  a  remembrance  of  my  love  to 
every  of  the  said  overseers  of  my  will,  I  give  unto  each  of  them  a  ring  of 
twentie  shillings. — In  wittnes  whereof  I  have  hereunto  set  my  hand  and 
seale,  this  foui-th  daye  of  July,  in  the  eleaventh  yeare  of  the  raigne  of  our 
sov'aigne  Lord  Charles,  by  the  grace  of  God,  kinge  of  England,  Scotland, 
France,  and  Ireland,  defender  of  the  faith,  &c.,  and  in  the  yeare  of  our  Lord 
God  1635.  Signed,  sealed,  and  published  to  be  the  last  will  and  testament 
of  the  said  Richard  Sibbs  in  the  presence  of  us. 

Probatum  fuit  testamentum  sup'scriptum  apud  London  coram  ven"  viro 
magistro  Willimo  Merricke  legum  doctore  :  Surrogato  ven''"  viri  Domini 
Henrici  Marten  militis,  legum  etiam  doctoris,  curiae  prerogativse  Cantuar. 
magistri,  custodis  sive  com"^  legitime  constituti ;  undecimo  die  mensis  Julii 
anno  Domini  millesimo  sexcentesimo  tricesimo  quinto,  Juramentis  Tbomaa 
Sibbs  et  Johannis  Sibbs  duorum  executorum  in  senior  J  testamento  nomi- 
natorum :  Quibus  commissa  fuit  administracio  omnium  et  singulorum 
bonorum  piriu  (?)  et  creditorum  dicti  defuncti  de  bene  et  fideliter  adminis- 
trando  eadem  ad  sancta  dei  evangeha  juratis :  Reservata  potestate  similem 
commissionem  faciendi  Johanni  Godbould  Ar :  alteri  executori  etiam  in 
senior  J  testamento  nominato  cum  ven'it  eand™  petitum.' 

His  will  was  drawn  up  on  Saturday  the  4th,  and  then  he  quietly 
waited  his  '  change.'  '  Paulisper  0  senex,  oculos  claude,  nam 
statim  lumen  Dei  videbis '  ('  Shut  thine  eyes  a  little,  old  man, 
and  immediately  thou  shalt  see  the  light  of  God  '§). 

Thus  remembering  his  kinsmen  and  friends  left  behind,  even 
the  humblest,  and  looking  upward,  he  '  walked  through  the 
valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,' '  and  went,  from  the  Sabbath  below 
{it  was  a  Sabbath  morning)  to  the  Sabbath  above,  to  '  be  with  the 
Lord.'  '  Blessed  are  the  dead  who  die  in  the  Lord.  .  .  .  Yea, 
saith  THE  Spirit,  for  they  rest  from  their  labours,  and  their  luorks 
do  follow  them,'  Rev.  xiv.  13.  He  died  5th  July  1635,  in  the  58th 
year  of  his  age.  An  entry  in  the  '  Register '  of  St  Andrew's  Church, 
Holborn  (within  which  parish  Gray's  Inn  is  situate),  tells  us  he 
was  buried  there  on  the  next  day  : — 

*  Sir  Nathaniel  Barnardiston.  The  '  Rich '  and  '  Barnardiston '  families  are 
historic  in  their  warm  support  of  the  Puritans.  It  were  superfluous  to  annotate 
names  that  are  found  in  every  Puritan  '  History.' 

t  Sir  William  Spring,  Knt.  Ho  was  of  Pakenham,  near  Bury  St  Edmunds,  of 
the  ancient  family  of  Lavenham.  See  Burke's  'Extinct'  Baronetcies;  also  antt 
page  xxvi. 

X  Qu.  '  superscripts  ?' — Ed. 

§  Sozomen,  lib.  ii.  cap.  ii.     Stanford's  Alleine,  p.  21. 


MEMOIR  OP  EICHABD  SIBBES,  D.D.  CXXxi 

*  1635.     July  6.  Richard  Sibbes,  D.D.,  sometime  preacher  in  Gray's  Lm, 
died  in  his  chambers  at  Gray's  Inn,  5th.'  * 

1-  2. 

'  Servant  of  God !  well  done ;  Tranquil  amid  alarms, 

Rest  from  thy  loved  employ ;  It  found  him  in  the  field, 

The  battle  fought,  the  victory  won,        A  veteran  slumbering  on  his  arms, 

Enter  thy  Master's  joy.'  Beneath  his  red-cross  shield : 

—The  voice  at  midnight  came ;  His  sword  was  in  his  hand, 

He  started  up  to  hear  :  Still  warm  with  recent  fight, ' 

A  mortal  arrow  pierced  his  frame,  Eeady  that  moment  at  command, 

He  foU,— but  felt  no  fear.  Through  rock  and  steel  to  smite. 

3. 
The  pains  of  death  are  past. 
Labour  and  sorrow  cease. 
And  life's  long  warfare  closed  at  last, 
His  soul  is  found  in  peace. 
Soldier  of  Christ !  well  done ; 
Praise  be  thy  new  employ ; 
And  while  eternal  ages  run 
Best  in  thy  Saviour's  joy.  f 

I  would  have  my  readers  turn  to  the  perhaps  over-garrulous, 
yet  interesting  '  reflections '  upon  the  death  of  Sibbes,J  and  add 
only  a  few  words  by  Ashe,  Church,  and  Nalton  : — 

'  This  bright  star,  who  sometimes  with  his  light  refreshed  the 
souls  of  many  of  God's  people  while  he  shone  on  the  horizon  of  our 
church,  set,  as  we  say,  between  the  evening  of  many  shadows  and 
the  morning  of  a  bright  hoped-for  reformation,  which,  though  for 
the  present  (1654)  overcast,  yet  being  so  agreeable  to  the  mind  of 
Jesus  Christ,  and  ushered  in  with  the  groans  and  prayers  of  so 
many  of  his  saints,  we  doubt  not  but  will  in  God's  own  time  break 
forth  gloriously,  to  the  dissipating  of  those  clouds  and  fogs  which 
at  the  present  do  eclipse  and  darken  it.'  §  Even  so : — 
'  God's  saints  are  shining  lights  ;  .  .  .  . 
They  are  indeed  as  pillar-fireB, 

Seen  as  we  go ; 
They  are  that  city's  shining  spires 
We  travel  to.'  U 

A.  B.  G. 

*  It  has  been  found  impossible  to  identify  his  grave;  no  stone,  the  simplest, 
marks  it.     Is  there  to  be  no  memorial  raised  ? 

t  James  Montgomery,  '  The  Christian  Soldier,'  Poetical  "Works,  p.  305,  ed. 
1  vol.  8vo.     1851. 

t  Appendix  A,  p.  cxxxviii,  seq.  See  also  B,  pp.  cxl-xli,  in  Appendix,  for  notices 
of  Sibbes's  family  and  name  ;  and  C,  p.  cxli,  for  references  concerning  his  sue- 
cessors  at  Gray's  Inn  and  Catharine  Hall 

§  '  To  the  Eeader,'  Heav.  Conf.  between  Christ  and  Mary,  12mo,     1654, 

i  Vaughan,  as  ante  p.  39, 
VOL.  I.  i 


APPENDIX  TO  MEMOIK 


A,  page  xxvi,  et  alibi. —ZAGBARY  CATLIN. 

It  has  been  deemed  proper  to  give  in  fall,  in  this  appendix,  the 
*  Memoir  '  of  Sibbes,  drawn  up  by  Zachary  Catlin  (the  manuscript  of 
which,  as  has  been  stated,  is  in  my  possession).  Accordingly  it  is  sub- 
joined, verbatim  et  literatim  from  the  original  holograph  with  signature. 
Two  copies  of  this  '  Memoir  '  are  preserved  at  Cambridge  ;  one  among  the 
Baker  MSS.  (xxxviii.  441-446) ;  the  other,  recently  presented,  in  Univer- 
sity Library.*  That  by  Baker  has  been  edited  with  scrupulous  fidelity  by 
Rev.  J.  E.  B.  Mayor,  M.A.  ;  and  forms  one  of  the  '  Communications  '  of 
the  Cambridge  Antiquarian  Society  (read  December  1.  1856,  No.  vii.  pp. 
252-264).  It  is  to  be  regi-etted  that  it  abounds  with  the  most  singular 
misreadings ;  for  which  Baker,  not  Mr  Mayor,  must  be  held  responsible. 
Mr  Mayor's  notes,  characteristically  full  of  out-of-the-way  reading,  are 
appended.  They  are  marked  M.  That  in  University  Library,  Mi- 
Cooper  informs  me,  '  is  a  tra^jscript  written  about  1750,  and  contains  some 
slight  verbal  variations  from  *ihe  Baker  MS.,'  but  he  adds,  '  these  variations 
can  be  of  httle  value,  because  the  scribe  read  the  olden  hand  so  imperfectly, 
that  he  throughout  calls  the  subject  of  the  memoir  "  Gibbs."  ' 

Of  Catlin  very  little  is  known  beyond  the  incidental  notices  of  himself 
and  father,  in  his  memoir  of  Sibbes.  The  '  Diary  of  John  Rous,  incum- 
bent of  Santon  Downham,  Suffolk,  from  1625  to  1642,  edited  by  Mary 
A.  E.  Green,  (Camden  Society,  4to,  1856,)'  introduces''''him  thus  : — 

*  Upon  Shrovemoonday,  February  13.  [a.d.  1632],  Mr  Catlin  Thirston.— 
preaching  at  Bury,  gave  out  before  his  sermon  that  it  was  good  Mr  CatUn's 
the  ministers  of  the  combination  wold  meete  to  consulte  of 
the  making  of  the  combination,  that  those  ministers  that  wold  doe  good 
might  be  put  in  seasonably  for  it.  I  learned  since,  that  a  newe-come 
minister  was  put  in  fii'st  in  the  combination,  to  beginne  on  Plough  Moon- 
day,  but  as  it  seemed  would  not  goe  before  the  graver  preachers,  and, 
therefore,  lefte  the  day  unprovided ;  but  ]\Ir  Catlin  by  entreaty,  preached 
at  that  time,  ex  improviso,  and  after  wold  have  beene  freed  of  this  his  owne 
time,  but  could  not  (thus  he  said  before  the  sennon),  and  in  his  sermon 
said  thus  much  obiter,  which  I  heard.  We  are  blamed  for  our  churches, 
but  it  is  certame,  that  these  courtes  extracte  more  from  us  than  will  re- 
payer  our  churches,  adome  them,  and  keepe  them  so.'  Pp.  68,  69. 
*  A  third  is  in  Harl.  MSS.,  6037,  fol.  17. 


CXXXIV  APPENDIX  TO  MEMOIR. 

Mr  Mayor  has  overlooked  the  marginal-note,  '  Thirston,'  when  he  asks 
if  our  Zachary  Catlin  were  '  the  Mr  Catlin  mentioned  by  John  Kous.* 
'  Thirston,'  i.e.,  Thurston,  gives  the  answer  in  the  aifirmative. 

Mr  Cooper  has  favoured  me  with  a  note  of  various  Catlins  of  the  several 
colleges,  Cambridge.  There  is  a  Zachary  CatHn  of  Christ's,  B.A.  1598, 
M.A.  1602.  This  was  probably  our  Zachary.  There  is  a  Jonathan  Cathn 
of  Catharine-Hall,  B.A.  1681,  M.A.  1635,  who  was  most  likely  the  son 
mentioned  as  cared  for  by  Sibbes. 

The  name,  spelled  '  Catling'  and  '  Catlyn,'  occurs  in  Mr  Bright's  volume 
{ante  page  cxxi),  as  an  'overseer'  in  the  will  of  one  of  the  Nether-hall 
Brights,  and  elsewhere  as  a  '  witness  '  (see  pp.  108,  128).  I  have  been 
unable  to  trace  to  any  library  the  two  sermons  published  by  him  [ante  page 
cxxiii).  Considerable  '  Notes  '  on  the  family  and  name  of  Catelyne  or 
Catlin  (unpublished),  will  be  found  in  '  Davy's  Suffolk  Collections,'  vol.  xlvi. 
(pp.  812-24).  .  .  .  Pedigrees  C,  Caa — Cha ;  Mus.  Brit.  Jure  Emptionis, 
19,  122.  Plut.  clxxvi.  E.  With  these  sHght  memoranda,  I  beg  now  to 
submit,  'Dr  Sibbs,  his  Life,  by  Zachary  Catlin.' 

At  the  Bequest  of  a  Noble  Friend,  S[ir]  W.  Spring,*  I  haue  here  will- 
ingly contributed  to  the  happy  memory  of  that  worthy  man  of  God  Doctour 
Sibs  a  few  such  Flowers,  as  I  could  collect,  ejrther  from  the  certain  Rela- 
tion of  those  yt  knew  his  first  Education,  or  from  mine  own  observation  of 
him,  at  that  distance,  whereat  we  lived.     And  if  any  thing  here  recorded, 

Mr  Clark  of  J^^J  Seem  convenient  for  His  purpose,  who  is  (as  I  am  in- 
London.t  formed)  about  to  publish  the  Lives  %  of  some  Worthyes  lately 

deceased,  I  shall  think  my  labour  well  bestow'd.  For  I  am  not  of  that 
Philosopher's  mind,  who  lighting  upon  a  Book  newly  put  forth,  entitled, 
The  encomium  of  Hercules,  cast  it  away,  saying,  Et  quis  Lacedeemoniorum 
eum  vituperavit  ?  accounting  it  a  needles  §  work  to  prayse  him,  whom  noe 
man  did,  or  could  find  fault  withal.  I  rather  iudge  it  a  commendable  thing, 
to  pei-petuate  and  keep  Fresh  the  Memoi-y  of  such  worthy  men,  whose  ex- 
amples may  be  of  use,  for  Imitation,  in  this  declining,  and  degenerate  Age. 
But  I  come  to  the  matter. 

He  was  born  This  Richard,  the  eldest  Son  of  Paul  Sibs  and  Johan,  was 
5  77.  bom  at  Tostockjl  in  Suffolk,  4  miles  from  Bury,  anno  domini 

1577,  from  whence  his  Parents  soon  removed,  to  a  Town  adioining,  called, 
Thurston,  where  they  lived  in  honest  Repute,  brought  up,  and  maried  divers 
children,  pui'chased  some  Houses  and  Lands,  and  there  they  both  De- 
ceased. His  Father  was  by  his  Trade,  a  Wheelewright,  a  skilful  and  painful 
workman,  and  a  good  sound  harted  Christian.  This  Richard  he  brought 
up  to  Learning,  at  the  Grammar  Schole,  though  very  ^  unwilUngly,  in  re- 
gard of  the  charge,  had  not  the  youth's  strong  Inclination  to  his  Book,  and 
wel  profiting  therein,  with  some  Importunity  of  Freinds  prevailed  so  far,  as 
to  continue  him  at  Schole,  til  he  was  fit  for  Cambridge.     Concerning  his 

His  industry  loue  to  his  Book,  and  his  Industry  in  study,  I  cannot  omit  the 
in  his  study.       Testimony  of  M"^-  Thomas  Clark,  High  Constable,  who  was 

*  See  Prynne's  '  Canterb.  Doome,'  p.  376. — M. 

t  Mr  Clark  of  London.  Probably  '  Samuel  Clarke,'  who  included  a  Memoir  of 
Sibbes  in  his  '  Thirty-two  lives  '  [ante  p.  xxxvii),  without  however  using  Catlin's  MS. 
Perhaps  as  the  volume  was  published  in  1652,  and  the  MS.  is  dated  November  1st 
of  that  year,  it  may  not  have  reached  him  in  time.  But  neither  does  any  trace  of  it 
appear  in  subsequent  editions. — G.  %  '  Pla,n  '  in  Baker,  by  Mr  Mayor. — G. 

2  '  Useless  '  in  Baker,  by  Mr  Mayor.  I  designate  the  remaining  mis-readings  by 
M.  B.-G.  II  '  Tastock  '  in  M.  B.— G.  ^  '  Yet '  in  M.  B.— G. 


APPENDIX  TO  MEMOIE.  CXXXV 

much  of  tlie  same  Age,  and  went  to  schole,  together  with  him,  at  the  same 
Time,  w*''  one  M"^-  Rich.  Brigs  (afterward,  Head  Master  of  the  Free  Schole 
at  Norwich)  then  teaching  at  Pakenham  church.  He  hath  often  told  me, 
that  when  the  Boies  were  dismist  from  Schole,  at  the  usuall  Houres  of 
eleuen,  and  5,  or  6,  and  the  rest  would  fal  to  their  pastime,  and  sometimes 
to  plaiing  the  Waggs  with  him,  being  haimlet*  and  meanly  apparel'd,  for 
ye  most  part  in  Leather,  it  was  this  Youth's  constant  course,  as  soon  as  he 
could  rid  himself  of  their  unpleasing  company,  to  take  out  of  his  Pocket  or 
Sachel,  one  Book  or  other,  and  so  to  goe  reading  t  and  meditating,  til  he 
came  to  his  Father's  house,  w°^  was  neere  a  mile  of,  and  so  as  he  went  to 
Schole  agen.  This  was  his  order  also,  when  his  Father  sent  j^„  ^  ^^;^_ 
him  to  the  Free  Schole  at  Bury,  3,  or  4  Miles  off,  every  day.  «^a^»,f,  eirti 
Whereby  ye  said  M'-  Clark,  did  then  conceive  yt  he  would  in  -!roXvft.a§n;. 
Time  prove  an  excellent  and  Able  man,  who  of  a  child  was  of  of  aschoUr"o 
such  a  manly  staydnes  §  and  indefatigable  industry  in  his  study,  be  (p^xaVams. 
His  Father  at  length  grew  weary  of  his  expenses  for  books  and  — Ascham.j 
learning,  took  him  from  Schole,  bought  him  an  Axe  and  some  other  tooles, 
and  set  him  to  his  own  Trade,  to  the  great  discontent  of  the  youth,  whose 
Genius  wholy  caried  him  another  way.  Whereupon,  M""-  Greaves.  \\  then 
Minister  of  Thurston,  and  M'-  Rushbrook  an  Attorney  there,  knowing  the 
disposition  and  fitnes  of  the  lad,  sent  him,  without  his  Father's  consent,  to 
some  of  the  Fellowes  of  S'"  John's  coUedge,  of  their  acquaintance,  with  their 
Letters  of  Recommendation,  where,  upon  examination,  he  was  Hisproflting 
BO  wel  approved  off,  that  he  was  presently  entertained  as  a  Sub-  inCambr. 
sizar,  shortly  after  chosen  kJchokT  of  tl'.e  E:>)nse,  and  f^t  length  came  to  be 
Fellow  of  ye  CoUedge,^  and  one  of  the  Taskers  of  ye  University,  His  Father 
being  hardly  brought  to  allow  him  20  Nobles  a  yeare  toward  his  maintenance 
in  Cambr.,  to  which  some  good  friends  in  the  country,  M".  Gh-eaves**  M'.  Knew- 
stub,tt  and  some  others,  made  some  addition,  for  a  Time  as  need  required. 

Anno  domini  1608,  I  came  to  be  Minister  of  Thurston,  and  he  was  then 
a  Fellow  of  the  Colledge,  and  a  Preacher  of  good  Note  in  Cambr.,  and  weej| 
soon  grew  §§  wel  acquainted,  for  whensoeuer  he  came  down  into  ye  Country, 
to  visit  his  Mother  and  brethren  (his  Father  being  deceased)  he  would 
never  faile  to  preach  with  us,  |1||  on  the  Lords  day,  and  for  the  most  part, 
twice,  telUng  me,  that  it  was  a  work  of  charity,  to  help  a  constant  and 
painful  preacher,  for  so  he  was  pleased  to  conceiue  of  me.  And  If  there 
were  a  Communion  appointed  at  any  Time,  he  would  be  sure  not  to  with- 
draw himselfe  after  sermon,  but  receiving  the  Bread  and  wine  at  my  hands, 
he  would  always  assist  me  in  the  distribution  of  ye  cup  to  the  congregation. 

As  for  his  kindnes  to  his  kindred, IIH  and  neglect  of  the  world.  His  kindnes 
it  was  very  remarkable,  for  this  I  can  testify  of  my  own  know-     to  his  kindred 

IT  l^     i  1       •  n   -«/r,     mi  ^n     t  i       ,i  •  and  his  singu- 

ledge,  that  purchasmg  oi  M'-  Tho.  Clark,  and  others  m  our     lar  neEiect  of 
Town,  a  Mesuage  and  Lands,  at  seueral  times,  to  the  value  of     ^^  '"°^^^' 
fifty  pounds  per  annum,  he  paid  the  Fines  to  the  Lords,  but  never  took 
one  peny  of  the  Rents  or  profits  of  them,  but  left  the  Benefit  wholly  to  his 

*  '  Humble  '  in  M.  B.— G.  t  '  Studying  '  in  M.  B.— G. 

t  Not  given  in  M.  B.— G.       §  '  Stryde  '  in  M.  B.— G.       ||  '  Gwinn  '  in  M.  B.— G. 

if  '  That  house '  in  M.  B.— G.  **  '  Graves  '  in  M.  B  — G. 

ft  See  Brook's  '  Puritans,'vol.  ii.  p.  308,  seq.  ;  Clarke's  '  Lives  of  Thirty-two  Eng- 
lish Divines,'  ed.  1677,  p.  133  ;  Geifrey  Whitney's  'Emblems,'  p.  223  ;  Bancrofts 
'Daungerous  Positions,'  pp.  5,  57  (Bk.  2,  c.  10),  44  (Bk.  3,  c.  2),  120,  122,  143; 
Sutcliffe's  '  Answere  to  Throckmorton,'  p.  47  ;  Prynne's  '  Canterb.  Doome,'  p.  376. — • 
M.  XX  '  Was  '  in  M.  B.— G.  ?§  '  Grown  '  in  M.  B.— G. 

II II  '  Mo  '  in  M.  B.— G.  ^t  '  Friends  '  in  M.  B.— G. 


CXXXVl  APPENDIX  TO  MEMOIE. 

Mother,  and  his  2  Brethren,*  as  long  as  he  lined.  So  much  did  this 
Heavenly-minded  Man  of  God  slight  this  present  world  (which  the  most 
men  are  so  loth  to  part  withal,  when  they  Dye)  that  he  freely  and  undesired, 
parted  with  it,  whilst  he  lined,  requiring  nothing  of  them,  hut  only  to  be 
liberal  to  the  poore.  Nay  oner  and  besides,  if  any  faithful  honest  man 
came  down  from  Cambridge  or  London,  where  he  lined,  by  whom  he  might 
conveniently  send,  he  seldome  or  never  fayled  to  send  his  Mother  a  Peice 
of  Gold,  for  the  most  part,  a  ten  shillings  Piece,  but  5  shillings  was  the 
least,  and  this  he  continued  as  long,  as  his  Mother  lined.  And  would  she 
haue  been  persuaded  to  exchange  her  Country  Life  for  the  citty,  he  often 
told  me,  yt  he  would  willingly  have  maintain'd  her  there,  in  good  view  and 
fashion,  like  his  Mother,  but  she  had  no  mind  to  alter  her  accustomed 
course  of  Life,  in  her  old  daies,  contenting  her  self  with  her  own  Meanes, 
and  that  Addition,  w'^''  her  Son  made  thereunto. 

His  special  -^^  ^^r  his  Special  kindnes  to  my  self,  in  particular,  I  can- 
kindness  to  not  omit,  that  being  Trusted  by  Personages  of  Quality,  with 
diners  sumes  of  mony,  for  pious  and  charitable  uses,  he  was 
pleased,  among  many  others,  not  to  forget  Me.  At  one  Time  he  sent  me 
down  three  Twenty  shillings  peices  of  gold  inclosed  in  a  Letter  :  and  at  2 
other  Times,  deliver[ed]  me,  with  his  own  hand,  two  Twenty  shilling  pieces 

HisBinguiar  niore  :  and  so  far  was  this  Humble  Saint  from  Pharisaical 
humility.  ostentatiou,  and  vain  glory,  and  from  taking  the  honour  of 

these  good  works  to  himself,  that  he  plainly  told  me,  that  these  Gratuities 
were  not  of  his  own  cost,  but  being  put  in  Trust,  and  f  left  to  his  own 
Discretion,  in  the  distribution,  he  lookt  upon  Mee  as  One,  that  took  great 
Paines  in  my  ministry,  and  in  teaching  Scholers,  and  at  that  Time  Labour- 
ing under  the  Burden  of  a  great  charge  of  childi'en,  and  so  thought  me  a 
fit  object  of  their  intended  charity.  And  from  myselfe  His  love  descended 
down  to  my  Son,  for  my  sake,  for  whom|  (before  he  had  euer  seen  him, 
being  then  at  the  Grammar  Schole  at  Bury)  he,  then  chosen  M''  of  Katherin 
Hal,  promis'd  me  a  SchoUership  there,  of  5  pound  a  yeare,  and  to  provide  for 

His  reality  ^^^  ^  Tutour  and  a  chamber.  And  such  was  his  constancy  of 
In    his   pro-     spirit,  and  his  Reality,  that  whatsoeuer  promise  he  made  me, 

mises       Pol  .  • 

Ileitis  dives  he  would  be  sure,  both  to  Remember  it,  and  to  make  it  good, 
S^t"'t^§ " ^*^*  as  freely  as  he  fii-st  rbade  it,  that  was,  unaskt  and  undesired: 
and  for  these  manyfold  kindnesses,  all  that  he  desired  at  my 
hands,  was  no  more  but  this,  that  I  would  be  careful  of  the  soules  of  my 
people,  and  in  special  of  his  Mother,  his  Brethren,  and  his  sisters,  and  would 
give  them  good  counsel,  in  their  disposing  themselves  in  Marriage,  or  upon 
any  other  occasion,  as  I  saw,  they  stood  in  need.  And  this  one  thing,  I 
may  not  passe  over,  concerning  myself,  that  in  his  last  wil  and  Testament, 
he  gave  me  a  Legacy  of  40  sh.  with  the  Title  of  his  Loving  Freind,  w"""  I  the 
rather  mention,  because  I  had  not  the  least  thought,  to  haue  been  in  yt  sort 
remembred  by  him,  at  his  Death,  lining  ||  at  no  lesse  distance  from  him,  then 
of  three  score  miles.  In  a  word,  such  was  the  Loneliness  of  this  sweet  IT 
seruant  of  God,  such  his  learning,  parts,  piety,  prudence,  humility,  sin- 
cerity, Loue  and  meeknes  of  Spirit  (whereof  euery  one  was  a  Lodeston  to 
attract  unto,  and  fasten  my  spirit,  close  to  his)  that  (I  professe  ingenuously) 
no  man  yt  euer  I  was  acquainted  withal,  got  so  far  into  my  hart,  or  lay** 

*  '  Brotliers  '  in  M.  B.,  and  so  elsewhere.  §  Not  in  M.  B. 

t  '  As '  in  M.  B.— G.  ]|  '  Being  '  in  M.  B.— G. 

X  '  For  whom  '  dropped  in  M.  B. — G.  ^  '  Same '  in  M.  B. — Q. 

**  '  Was '  in  M.  B.— G. 


APPENDIX  TO  MEMOm.  CXXXVU 

BO  close  therein :  So  that  many  Times  I  could  not  part  from  him,  with 
dry  eyes.  But  who  am  I  ?  or  what  is  it  to  be  belov'd  of  me,  especially  for 
Him,  that  had  so  many  and  so  great  Friends,  as  he  had  ?  yet  even  to  Me, 
the  great  God  is  pleased  to  say,  My  son  give  me  thy  Heart,  prov.  23  26. 
and  this  poor  and  contrite  hart,  I  know,  he  wil  not  despise,  ^^i-  ^^- 17. 
And  this  Hart  of  mine,  as  small  as  it  is,  yet  is  too  great,  to  close  with  a 
Proud,  Profane,  worldly,  malicious  hart,  though  it  be  in  a  Prince.  But 
true*  Vertue  and  Grace,  are  the  Image  of  God  himself,  and  where  they  are 
discerned  f  by  Wisdom's  children,  they  command  the  Hart,  and  are  truly 
louely  and  venerable,  whereas  Carnal,  vitious,  and  unmortified  Affections 
(whereof  this  Man  of  God,  was  as  Free,  as  any  man,  I  know  liuing)  they 
do  render  a  man  (whateuer  he  bee),  if  not  hateful  and  contemptible,  yet  at 
least  less  louely  and  honourable.  But  my  Love  to  this  good  Man  hath 
transported  me  beyond  my  purpose,  w"^  was  to  speake  of  some  things,  lesse 
visible  to  others,  especially  concerning  his  first  Education :  for  when  he 
came  to  the  University  and  the  Citty,  there  his  Life,  and  Actions  were 
upon  a  publick  Theatre,  and  his  own  works,  without  a  Trumpet,  pjov.  31. 31 
would  prayse  him  ia  the  Gates.  As  for  his  kindnes  to  his  ^^^  23. 
kindred,  and  to  my  selfe,  I  know  none,  yt  took  more  notice  of        „. 

.  Mis    dsfttli 

them,  then  I,  and  therefore  I  could   not  hide  them  from  the     July  5th  I635 
world  (upon  this  occasion)  without  some  kind  of  Sacriledge.  ^^^^  ^^• 

But  from  his  Life,  I  passe  to  his  Death,  and  the  disposing  of  his  worldly 
estate,  wherein  are  some  things  very  Remarkable,  and  coming  to  my  certain 
knowledge  and  observation,  I  neyther  wil,  nor  dare  |  conceal  them.     His 
Death  was  some  what  soden ;  for  having  preach't  at  Graye's  Line,  upon 
the  Lords  Day,  on  that  sweet  Text,  Joh.  xiv.  1,  2,  '  Let  not        HisCygnea 
your  Harts  be  troubled,  ye  belieue  in  God,  Believe  also  ia  me.     Cantio      vei 
In  my  Father's  House  are  many  Mansions,'  as  if  he  had 
presag'd  his  own  Death,  he  fel  sick  that  very  night,  and  died  on  ye  Tuesday|| 
following,  being  the  5^^  of  July  a.d.  1635.     ^tatis  suae  58,  his  Physitian, 
that  knew  his  Body  best  IT  being  then  out  of  ye  Citty  ;  yet  having  his  senses, 
and  some  respite  of  Time,  as  he  set  his  Soule,  so  he  set  his 
House  in  order,  re\'ising  his  former  will,  and  altering,  what  he 
thought  fitt  to  be  altered.     And  first,  he  Bequeathed  and  commended  ** 
his  Soule,  into  the  hands  of  his  gracious  Saviour,  who  Redeemed  it,  with 
his  most  precious  Blood,  and  appeared  then  in  heaven,  to  receive  it.     He 
gave  him  humble  thanks,  that  he  had  vouchsafed  him,  to  be 
born,  and  to  live,  in  the  Best  Times  of  the  Gospel,  (mark  this) 
and  to  have  his  Interest  in  the  comfort  of  it.     As  also  that  he  had  vouch- 
safed him  the  Honour  of  being  a  Publisher  of  it,  with  some  measure  of 
Faithfulnes  (mark  this,  you  that  contemne  ye  office  of  the  ministry).     His 
Body  he  ordered  to  be  buried,  at  the  pleasure  of  his  Executors.     And 
for  his  worldly  estate,  wherewith  God  had  blessed  him,  he 
thus  disposed  of  it.      His  House  and  Lands  at  Thurston,     disposed    his 
to  the  value  of  50  lib.  a  year,  or  more,  he  gave  to  his  young-     lands  andper- 
est  and  only  Brother  then  liuing,  Thomas  Sibs,  for  ye  terme 
of  his  natural  Life,  and  the  Remainder  to  John  Sibs,  the  son  of  John, 
his  second  Brother  deceased  :    and  between  these  two,  he  diuided  all  his 

*  '  This '  in  M.  B.— G.      f  '  Discovered '  in  M.  B.— G,        t  '  Doe  '  in  M.  B.— G. 
§  This  is  the  title  given  to  Whitaker's  last  '  sermon,'  published  1699,  4to. — G. 
\  This  is  a  slip  for  Sunday.     See  Memoir,  page  cxxx.,  and  title-page  of  '  last  ser* 
mons,'  in  this  volume. — G. 

t  '  Best '  in  M.  B.— G.  **  '  Committed '  in  M.  B.— G. 


CXXXVIU  APPENDIX  TO  MEMOIR. 

•personal  estate,  which  clearly  amounted  to  650  lib.  (his  large  Legacies, 
and  funeral  charges  being  discharged  and  satisfied)  making  them,  ye 
exequestors  of  his  Wil  and  Test*.  To  the  children  of  his  3  sisters 
deceased  he  gave  110  Ub.  To  other  poore  kindred  13  lib.  To  his 
faithful  Sen'ant,  James  Joynar,  10  lib.  To  other  5  in  London,  5  lib.  To 
the  poore  of  the  parishes  of  Trinity  and  S*-  Andrew's  in  Cambridge,  5  Hb. 
To  the  poore  of  the  Parish  of  Thurston,  and  of  the  parish,  where  he  should 
be  buried,  2  lib.  To  the  Steward  of  Grayes  Inne,  3  hb.  To  the  3  cheife 
Butlars,  3  lib.  To  their  Servants,  1  lib.  To  the  chiefe  Cook,  a  Ring  of 
10  sh.  To  his  under  Servants,  1  hb.  To  his  deare  and  worthy  Friend 
M'.  Jo.  Pym,-  a  Ring  of  2  Ub.  To  S^  Rob*- Brook  f  of  Langley,  his 
Legacies  Lady,  and  Brother,  3  Rings  of  6  hb.  To  Mr.  Stephens |  a  Rmg 
given  out  288  of  2  lib,  To  M'' CapeU,§  Preacher,  1  lib.  To  his  loving  friend 
lib.  10  8h.  ^_  ^^^j.^^  Preacher  of  Thurston,  2  hb.  To  Mr.  Almond  of 
Cambr.  for  his  Son  (ye  Doctours  Godson),  5  lib.  To  his  Godson  Rich^ 
Clark,  2  hb.  To  Mr.  Gouge  ||  of  London,  whom  he  requested  to  preach  at 
his  Funeral,  1  hb.H  To  S'-  Nath.  Rich  ;**  to  S"-  Nath.  Barnardiston  ;tf  and 
to  S'-  W°-  Spring,  Supervisors  of  his  will,  3  Rmgs  of  3  hb.  To  M"-  Mary 
Moore,  a  Ring  of  2  hb.  To  Mr.  Jo.  Godbold  of  Gray's  Inn  Esq.,  one  of 
ye  exequatours  of  his  Win,  the  best  peiee  of  plate  he  had,  valued  at  10  lib. 
To  Katherin-Hal  in  Cambr,  for  the  setling  of  a  Scholarship  of  4  lib.  per 
annum  for  ever,  100  Ub.  All  wich  Legacies  amount  to  the  total  summe  of 
288  lib.  10  sh. 

His  eniarg.  During  the  Time  yt  he  was  M''.  of  Kath-Hal,  he  was  the 
ing  Katherin  Meane  by  his  great  friends,  of  buying  in  the  Inne,  adioininge 
ye  CoUedge,  caUed  The  Bull,  and  so  of  enlarging  the  Buildings 
of  the  CoUedge,  to  the  value  of  500  lib.  as  I  am  informed :  But  I  leave 
this  toll  a  melius  Inquirendum.  0  what  a  Pious  and  charitable  disposition 
do  these  things  discouer,  in  this  precious  Saint,  to  be  had  in  everlasting 
Remembrance. 

*  Besides  the  common  sources  for  Pym's  life,  consult  the  '  Charisteria  and  Epist 
Eucharist.'  of  Degory  Whear,  his  tutor  and  acquaintance  of  many  years'  standing, 
'  Charist.'  Dedn.  and  pp.  101,  102;  'Epist.  Eucharist.'  Nos.  21—28.  Pym  was  a 
friend  and  connection  of  Brownrigg's. '  B's  '  Life,'  pp.  190,  191. — M. 

t  Sir  Robert  Brook  of  Langley,  his  Lady  ....  See  '  Dedication '  of  *  Fountain 
Sealed  '  [ante  page  cxix) — G. 

X  Dr  Stephens,  editor  of  '  Statins,'  Master  of  Bury  ?  '  Life  of  Isaac  Milles,'  1721, 
pp.  8-12,  74.— M. 

§  Richard  Capel,  "Wood's  '  Athenae,'  ed.  Bliss,  iii.  421,  Clark's  '  Lives'  (as  above), 
p.  303  seq.—K. 

II  Dr  Wm.  Gouge.  See  his  life  in  Clark  (as  above),  p.  234  seq.,  Harwood'a 
'Alumni  Etonenses,'  p.  202,  Wm.  Lilly's  '  Life,'  ed.  1774,  p.  29,  Prynne's  '  Canterb. 
Doome,'  p.  362,  Life  of  Row'  in  Clark's  '  Lives  of  Eminent  Persons,'  (1683),  pt.  ii. 
p.  106,  Brook's  'Lives  of  the  Puritans,'  iii.  165,  seq. — M.  Also  'Memoir'  prefixed 
to  his  Exposition  of  '  Hebrewes,'  folio,  1655,  vol.  i. — G. 

^  From  a  tract  bound  in  the  volume  marked  R.  10.  16  in  the  University  Library 
of  Cambridge  (p.  525)  it  appears  that  10s.  was  commonly  charged  to  the  poor,  and 
20s.  to  the  rich,  for  a  funeral  sermon.  The  tract  contains  the  answer  of  George 
Finch  (a  Cambridge  man,  brother  to  Lord  Finch)  to  the  articles  against  him  a.d. 
1641.— M. 

**  See  Birch's  James  I.,  vol.  ii.,  p.  55,  and  Whear's  '  Charisteria,'  p.  127. — M. 

tt  See  his  life  in  Clarke's  '  Lives  of  Eminent  Persons,'  (1683),  pt.  ii.,  p.  105,  seq. 
Cf.  ibid.  pp.  161,  163,  169,  172,  175 ;  Calamy's  'Account,'  pp.  636,  637  ;  'Contin.'p. 
786.— M. 

XX  The  Black  Bull  was  given  by  will  to  Cath.  Hall  by  Dr  Gostlin,  for  the  found- 
ing of  six  scholars,  &c. — M. 


APPENDIX  TO  MEMOIK.  CXXXIX 

I  shal  conclude  with  an  Observation,  w"''  I  made  of  the  Time,  ^j^^  ^^^^  ^^ 
when  this  holy  man,  and  some  other  Godly  and  precious  his  death,  isa. 
Divines,  were  taken  out  of  this  world,  by  the  wise  Providence  ^^'  ^" 
of  God.  Tis  that  of  ye  Prophet  Is  :  57,  i.  That  Righteous  and  merciful 
men  are  taken  away,  from  the  Evill  to  come.  They  enter  into  Peace,  and 
rest  in  their  Graues,  as  in  Beds  of  Sleep.  Thus  ye  Lord  said,  2  k.  22. 19, 
concerning  good  Josia,  I  wil  gather  thee  to  the  Fathers,  and  20. 
thou  shalt  go  to  thy  Grave  in  Peace,  And  thine  eyes  shall  not  see  all  ye 
Evil,  w"^  I  wil  bring  upon  this  place.  In  like  manner,  the  Lord  took  away, 
about  the  same  Time,  with  this  Reverend  man  diuers,  that  their  eyes  might 
not  see  that  great  Evils,  then  ready  to  break  out,  upon  these  3  kingdoms. 
To  instance  in  some  few,  D""-  Sibs  died  July  5,  1635  ;  M'-  Sam.  Dr  Sibs,  Mr 
Ward,*  that  Worthy  Preacher  of  Ipswich,  was  censured  in  the  ^*™-  ^^'■'^• 
High  commission,  and  silencet  in  October  follow^  ye  same  yeare  1635,  and 
died,  as  I  remember  1638.  The  Irish  RebelUon,  the  slaughter  of  100,000 
Protestants  in  a  yeare,  the  long,  fatal  war,  between  the  King  and  ParP. 

M'-  Rogers  f  also,  that  Zealous  and  powerful  Preacher  of  Mr  Rogers 
Dedham  in  Essex,  died  Octob :  15:  1636.  And  I  may  not  "fi^^i^^*"'- 
forget  my  own  father  also,  M''-  Robert  Catlin,  |  an  aged  and  a  ^,  ^j^  ^"''^'^ 
faithfull  Minister  in  Rutlandshire,  about  four  score  yeares  old 
died  July  24 :  1637  :  who  Being  unable  any  longer  to  serue  his  great 
Pastoral  cure,  he  came  over  to  Barham,  neere  Ipswich,  to  dy  amongst  his 
children  (here)  in  Suffolk  :  who  lying  on  his  sick  Bed,  heard  M'^-  Fenton, 
a  l^Iinister  relating  the  Heavy  censure,  that  was  then  newly  passed  upon  the 
Bishop  of  Lincoln,  and  Deane  of  Westminster,  Doctoui-  Wil-  ^^  wiiiiama 
liams,  reputed  at  that  Time  a  very  good  Man,  whom  my  Father  cast  into  ye 
knew  to  be  a  great  Freind  to  the  Good  ministers  in  his  Diocese, 
and  a  great  enimy  to  the  setting  the  Tables  Altarwise,  and  to  the  Altar 
worship,  w'''"  then  began  to  be  much  advocated,  and  one  that  had  done 
many  munificent  works  of  charity,  and  had  given  yearely  a  great  summe 
to  the  Releife  of  the  Lady  Elizabeth.  The  Bishop,  by  the  malice  of  Arch- 
bishop Laud  and  others  his  enemies,  was  suspended  in  the  High  Commis- 
sion ab  ofiicio  or  beneficio,  censured  in  the  Star-Chamber,  fined  10,000  Ub. 
and  cast  into  the  Towre  of  London  about  July  15,  1637 :  from  whence  he 
was  fetchet  out  the  beginning  of  this  Pari*-  Nov.  3d,  1640,  with  great 
applause.  My  Father,  I  say,  hearing  of  this  Bishop's  censure  (wherein 
my  Brother  Wm.  Catlin,  a  minister  was  deeply  concerned,  as  being  a  wit- 
ness for  ye  Bishop),  He  brake  out  into  these  words,  before  the  2  Ministers, 
and  others  then  present  in  the  chamber.  Alas  poore  England,  thou  hast 
now  seen  thy  best  dales ;  I  that  am  4  score  yeares  old,  and  I  have  in 
al  my  time  seene  no  alteration  in  Religion,  nor  any  foreign  Enemy  setting 

*  See  Brook's  '  Lives  of  the  Puritans,'  vol.  ii.  p.  452,  seq.,  with  the  authors  there 
cited ;  also  Heylin's  '  Cypriamis  Angl.'  p.  120,  seq. ;  Prjoine's  '  Canterb.  Doome,' 
pp.  157,  159,  361,  375  ;  Birch's  '  James  1.,'  vol.  ii.  pp.  226,  228,  232  ;  Clark's  '  Lives 
of  Eminent  Persons'  (1683),  pt.  ii.  pp.  154,  159  ;  D'Ewes'  '  Autobiography,'  vol  i. 
p.  249 ;  Calamy's  'Account,'  p.  636. — M.  Also  Mr  Kyle's  Memoir,  prefixed  to  his 
'  Sermons '  in  present  series  (see  Adams's,  iii.). — G. 

t  See  his  life  in  Brook's  '  Lives  of  the  Puritans,'  vol.  ii.  p.  421  :  and  Bastwick'a 
•Utter  Routing,'  p.  474,  Prynne's  'Canterb.  Doome,'  pp.  363,  373,  Calamy's  'Ac- 
count,' p.  606,  Clark's  '  Lives  of  Eminent  Persons '  (1683),  p.  64  (Life  of  Blackerby), 
Mather's  '  Life  of  T.  Hooker,'  p.  8,  Mather's  '  Life  of  John  Cotton,'  pp.  24,  25.— M. 
Also  Chester's  '  John  Eogers'  .  .  .  pages  245,  seq.  (1  vol.  8vo,  1861).— G. 

X  This  account  has  been  printed  in  Brook's  'Lives  of  the  Puritans,'  vol.  ii. 
pp.  428.  429  — M 


Cxl  APPENDIX  TO  MEMOIR. 

foot  in  England,  nor  any  Ciuil  wars,  amongst  ourselves,  do  now  forsee  euil 
daies  a  comming.  But  I  shal  go  to  the  grave  in  Peace.  Blessed  be  that 
God,  whom  I  have  served,  who  hath  accepted  my  weake  service,  and  wil 
be  mine  exceeding  great  reward.  And  within  a  few  houres,  he  departed 
this  Life,  and  Ues  Buried  in  the  Chauncell  of  the  Parish  Church  at  Bar- 
ham,  Doctour  Young  of  Stow  Market,*  preaching  at  his  Funeral :  and  as 
he  Blessed  God  (with  D''-  Sibs)  yt  he  had  hved  in  the  best  Times  of  the 
Gospel,  so  there  was  no  great  difference  in  the  Time  of  their  death.  And 
shortly  after  the  death  of  these  men  were  those  sparkles  of  discontent 
kindled  between  the  Scots  and  us,  w"^  were  the  sad  Praeludia,  or  beginnings 
of  this  late  Universal  Conflagration.  The  King  went  agaiast 
agai'ns^  ^^ye  the  Scots,  as  far  as  York,  in  March  1638  :  and  the  Scots  were 
Scots.  March  proclaimed  Traitours  in  the  Churches  of  England,  in  April 
following,  and  though  this  Proclamation  were  revoked,  yet  who 
knows  not,  what  Tragical  events  have  foUow'd  in  al  the  3  Kingdoms,  to 
this  very  day,f  to  the  astonishment  of  Heaven  and  Earth.  This  is  ye 
very  observation  of  Reverend  Beza  in  his  70th  Epistle  :  That 
as  often  as  God  kindleth  and  setteth  vp  these  Lights  (men  of 
singular  graces  and  special  use  in  ye  church)  so  often  he  testifies  his  good 
wil  to  y°'®  Times  and  Places  in  a  certen  special  and  peculiar  manner.  But 
when  he  extinguishes  these  Lights  and  puts  them  out,  it  must  be  accounted 
as  an  evident  testimony  of  his  sore  Displeasure.  For  (saith  he)  it  is 
apparant  in  al  Histories  that  when  greivous  Tempests  are  comming  upon  a 
People,  The  Lord  is  wont  to  withdraw  his  especial  servants  into  the  Haven 
beforehand,  w**"  agrees  with  y*  of  ye  Prophet  Isay  2.  2,  8,  5.  Behold  ye 
Lord  wil  take  away  out  of  Judah  and  Jerusalem  ye  Judges  and  ye  Prophets ; 
the  Wise  man  and  ye  Councellour  and  ye  Honourable :  and  the  People 
shal  bee  oppressed  one  of  another  etc.  And  no  marvel,  for  such  men  are 
the  TO  %aTiyjic,  .   .  .  meanes  as  a  shield  to  keep  off  the  wrath  of  God  from 

Gen.  7. 16.     the  Places  where  they  live.     The  Lord  with  held  the  Flood 

11- 13.  of  waters  from  ye  old  world,  til  Noah  was  safely  shut  up  in  the 

Ark,  and  the  veiy  selfe  same  day  (saith  the  Text)  were  the  Fountaines  of 

the  Deep  broken  up  and  the  windowes  of  Heaven  opened.    The 

Gen.  13. 22.     Angel  told  Lot  he  could  do  nothing  against  wicked  Sodom,  till 

2Ciiron.34.     he  was  got  out  of  that  place.     The  Lord  held  off  the  king  of 

'  ^°        ■      Babilon  from  beseiging  Jerusalem  til  good  Josia  was  at  rest. 

Josephus.       And  ere  the  Roman  Ai'my  sate  down  before  it,  the  Lord  by  a 
Miracle  warned  the  Christian  Jewes  to  remove  from  thence  to 

Augustine.      Pella.     Again,  no  sooner  was  that  worthy  Bishop  of  Hippo 
St  Augustin  deceased,  but  the  Citty  was  taken  and  sacked  by  the  Goths 

M.  Luther.     ^^^  Yandals.     No  sooner  was  Martin  Luther  translated  to  a  ■ 
better  Life,  but  the  Smalcaldick  warre  brake  out  w"**  wasted 
almost  al  the  Protestants  in  Germany.     No  sooner  was  that 

D.   areus.      -^orthy  man,  aged  Parens  taken  from  Heydelberg,  but  presently  ' 
Marques  Spinola  with  his  Army  entered  the  Town.     And  no  sooner  had 
the  Lord  taken  away  these  worthy  Divines,  but  presently  the  Fire  of  war 

Psai  11  3       ^^^  confusion  (a  iust  punishment  for  oui-  great  and  crying 

sins)  brake  out  upon  these  3  nations.     For  if  the  Foundations 

(of  Religion  and  Government)  be  cast  down  and  destroy'd,  what  can  the 

Righteous  do.     The  voice  of  wise  men  is  not  heard  in  the  cry  of  Fooles : 

The  counsel  of  moderate  and  unbiased  men  is  not  regarded  in  such  a 

*  The  celebrated  Scottish  tutor  and  friend  of  John  Milton. 

t  From  'very  day,'  on  to  'The  Lord  in  Mercy,'  not  in  M.-B. — G. 


APPENDIX  TO  MEMOIR.  CxU 

Tempest  of  clamour,  violence,  and  conftision.  Such  men  would  have  heen 
slighted  and  lay'd  aside  in  such  Times  as  these.  The  Lord  therefore  hath 
put  them  into  their  safe  harbour  and  Haven  of  Kest,  whUe  wee  that  survive 
are  tossed  to  and  fro  upon  the  turbulent  Eurypus  of  Anabaptistical,  An- 
archical, Fanatical,  and  Atheistical  barretiags  and  Vittlitigations.* 

The  Lord  in  Mercy  vouchsafe  to  stU  the  Raging  of  the  waters,       ps.  65.  t. 
and  the  madnes  of  (that  many  headded  monster)  the  People,       isay.  39. 8. 
that  once  more  his  faithftd  Servants  in  these  3  Nations,  may       Matt: 8. 25. 
enjoy  a  blessed  calm.      That  there  may  yet  once  again,  be  Peace  and 
Truth  in  our  Dales.     Lord  save  us,  or  we  perish. 

Compiled  and  attested,  by  Zachary  Catlin,  Minister  of  Thurston,  Nov.  1. 
1652  :  Anno  aetatis  69  :  currente. 

(I  have  presented  Catlin's  MS.  to  '  University  Library,'  Cambridge). 


B,  pages  xxix  and  cxxxi.— SIBBES'S  FAMILY  AND  NAME. 

The  Wm  of  Sibbes  [ante  p.  cxxviii,  seq.),  enumerates  various  relatives 
deceased  and  alive.  His  father  had  died  before  1608,  and  his  mother, 
Catlin  informs  us,  also  predeceased  him.  Dr  Sibbes  himself  never  married, 
perhaps  through  the  '  order  '  of  Gray's  Lin,  that  forbad  its  '  preacher  '  to 
marry.  The  name  seems  to  have  utterly  died  out,  not  in  Suffolk  merely, 
but  everywhere.  While  all  the  other  Puritans  of  this  Series  are  living  names, 
I  have  failed  to  trace  any  Sibbes  beyond  1737.  No  doubt  the  blood  has 
been  transmitted  in  the  issue  of  the  several  sisters  named  in  the  '  Will.' 

The  following  memorabilia  from  the  sources  enumerated  above  each,  con- 
tain all  that  I  have  been  able  to  collect  about  the  family  and  name. 

I.  Catharine-Hall  *  Registers.' 

(1.)  John  Sibbes,  B.A.  1635  (mentioned  in  '  WiU '). 
(2.)  Richard  .  .  .  B.A.  1664,  M.A.  1668.      (See  entry  in  Thurston 
*  Register,'  Mo.  2.) 

(3.)  Robert .  .  .  B.A.  1675. 
(4.)  Richard  .  .  .  B.A.  1716. 

II.  Tostock  '  Registers.' 

The  merest  fragment  of  the  '  Registers '  of  Tostock  has  been  preserved ; 
and  the  first  occurrence  of  the  name  of  Sibbes  therein,  it  will  be  observed, 
is  long  posterior  to  his  death. 

1.  Hannah  Sibbs,  the  daughter  of  Thomas  Sibbs  (probably  a  grand- 
nephew),  and  Elizabeth  his  wife,  was  baptized  the  6th  day  of  January  1679. 

2.  Francis,  ye  daughter  of  Thomas  Sibbes  and  Elizabeth  his  wife,  was 
baptized  ye  5tli  of  June  1683. 

*^*  See  an  entry  from  Thurston  '  Register,'  of  her  marriage. 

3.  Richard,  the  son  of  Thomas  Sibbs  and  EHzabeth  his  wife,  was  bap- 
tized May  ye  1st  1688. 

From  the  *  deaths  '  we  find  '  Thomas  Sibbes  was  buried  January  ye  18th 
1690,'  and  '  EHzabeth  Sibbes,  widow,  was  buried,  August  9th  1706.' 

4.  John  Nunn  and  Sarah  Sibbes  (probably  a  grand-neice),  both  of 
this  parish,  were  married,  April  12.  1697. 

Of  this  marriage  were  born  : — 

(l.J  Mary,  '  baptized  December  ye  30th  1702.' 

(2.)  John,  '  baptized  January  ye  9th  1706.'     (Died  in  a  few  days.) 

(3.)  Esther,  '  baptized  May  ye  26th  1708.' 

*  Qu.  'Vile  litigationa?'— Ed. 


CXiii  APPENDIX  TO  MEMOIR. 

■  Of  '  Sarah  Sibbes '  =  Mrs  Nunn,  we  read,  *  Sarah,  the  wife  of  John 
Nunn  of  Thurston,  was  buried  here,  April  28th  1719.'  A  '  Frances  Nunn 
of  Battlesden,  was  buried,  Feb.  18.  1725.' 

A  third  branch  is  as  follows  : — 

5.  '  John  Limner  of  Chevington,  and  Elizabeth  Sibbes  (probably  another 
grand-niece),  of  this  town,  were  married,  August  ye  23d  1700.' 

There  was  issue  : — 

'  Esther,  daughter  of  Jolm  Limner  and  Elizabeth  his  wife,  ,  .  baptized 
Octob.  ye  15th  1701.' 

III.  Thurston  '  Registers,'  as  Tostock. 

Only  two  occurrences  of  the  name  of  Sibbes  are  found  : — 

1.  Titulus  Matrimonii,  1707. 

'  Robert  Steggles  of  Tostock,  and  Frances  Sibbes  of  Thurston,  married, 
Ap.  23.'     (See  under  Tostock,  No.  2.) 

2.  '  Mr  Richard  Sibbes,  clerk,  rector  of  Gedding  65  years,  aged  93,  Feb. 
2.  1737.' 

This  was  doubtless  the  '  Richard '  of  the  Cambridge  list  (supra  No.  2). 
He  was  probably  non-resident.  In  the  '  registers  '  of  Gedding,  only  one 
entry  during  the  whole  period  of  his  incumbency,  bears  his  signature  as 
*  rector.' 

IV.  Bright's  '  Brights  of  Suffolk '  (ante  pp.  Ixxxv-vi). 

In  the  family  papers  of  *  the  Netherhall  Family,'  John  Sibbes,  no  doubt 
the  Doctor's  nephew,  appears  as  a  'witness'  in  a  dispute  about  a  'meadow' 
(page  127).  On  the  back  of  a  letter  (January  ye  6th  1703),  is  a  memor- 
andum by  Thomas  Bright,  relating  to  accounts  and  rents,  under  the  heads 
of  Thurston,  Pakenham,  Barton,  and  Tostock,  in  which,  among  others, 
occur  the  names  of  '  John,  Robert,  and  Thomas  Sibbes,'  perhaps  '  tenants' 
on  the  estate.  Finally,  in  a  letter,  '  June  10.  1729,'  a  Mr  Howard  writes  to 
the  famous  beauty,  '  Mary  Bright,'  that  '  yesterday  he  view**  Mr  Sibbs'  copy- 
hold lands,  held  of  her  manor.' 


C,  page  cxxvi.— SUCCESSORS  OF  SIBBES  IN  HIS  OFFICES. 

1.  '  Preacher,'  Gray's  Inn. 

]3th  November  1635.    Hannibal  Potter,  Dr  of  Divinity,  chose  preacher. 

9th  February  1641.  Mr  Jackson  is  chose  lecturer,  to  preach  twice  of  a 
Sunday. 

28th  May  1647.     Mr  Horton  chose  preacher. 

13th  January  1662.  Mr  Caley,  preacher  and  lect'  of  this  Society,  if  he 
please  to  accept  thereof. 

12th  November  1662.  Mr  Cradock  chose  lect',  w*''  same  allowance  as 
Mr  Wilkins. 

2.  *  Master,'  Catherine  Hall,  Cambridge. 

There  was  a  keen  contest  for  the  '  Mastership.'  The  subsequently  cele- 
brated Bishop  Brownrig  was  appointed.  For  interesting  notice,  with  refer- 
ences, of  Brownrig,  and  for  the  papers  relating  to  the  disputes,  consult  Mr 
Mayor's  '  Autobiography  of  Matthew  Robinson '  (pp.  130-146)  ;  also 
'  Garrard's  Letter  to  Strafford  (September  1.  1635,  Strafford's  Letters,  vol. 
i.  p.  462). 


A  DESCRIPTION  OF  CHEIST. 


TuL.  I. 


A  DESCEIPTION  OF  CHRIST. 


NOTE. 
The  title-page,  which  is  given  below,*  of  the  original  and  only  early  edition  of 
the  '  Description  of  Christ '  bears,  it  will  be  observed,  that  it  consists  of  the  '  lead- 
ing— i.  e.,  introductory — sermons  to  that  treatise  called  the  Bruised  Reed.'     Hence 
its  position  in  our  reprint.     It  seemed  proper  to  place  the  two  together. 

The  '  Description,'  as  having  been  published  posthumously,  will  not  compare  in 
finish  with  the  more  famous  '  Bruised  Reed,'  and,  indeed,  occasionally  (as  at  p  6, 
line  10  from  bottom,  p.  13,  line  8  from  bottom),  partakes  very  much  of  the  nature 
of  those  '  notes  ...  by  some  who  had  not  perfectly  taken  them,'  to  which  Sibbea 
deprecatingly  refers  in  his  address  to  the  '  Christian  reader,'  prefixed  to  the  latter. 
Still,  in  substance,  if  not  in  composition,  the  '  Description '  is  valuable ;  and  having 
been  published  in  the  '  Beams  of  Divine  Light '  according  '  to  the  doctor,  his  own 
appointment,'  it  carries  his  authority.  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  in  no  after-reprints 
will  the  '  Description  '  and  '  Bruised  Reed    be  disjoined.  G.  t 

*  Original  Title  page — 

A 
DESCRIPTION 
OF  OHRI&T, 
hlis  neerenesse  to  God, 
His  calling. 
His  qualification, 
His  execution  of  his  calling. 
In  three  Sermons. 
Being  the  leading  Sermons  to  that  Trea- 
tise called  the  Bruised  Reed,  preached 

upon  the  precedent  words. 
By  the  late  Reverend  and  learned  Di- 
vine,Richard  Sibs, 
Doctor  in  Divinitie,  Master  of  Katherine  Hall  in 
Cambridge,  and  sometimes  Preacher  at 
Grayes  Inne. 
Isa.  61.  1.  ♦ 

The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  God  is  upon  me,  because  the  Lord  hath  annoynted 
me  to  preach  good  tidings  unto  the  meeke. 
London. 
Printed  by  G.  M.  for  N.  Bourne  and  R.  Harford,  and  are  to  be  sold  at  the  south 
entrance  of  the  Royall  Exchange,  and  at  the  guilt  Bible  in  Queenes-head- 
AUey  in  Pater-noster-row.     MDCXXXIX. 

t  Throughout  the  present  edition  of  Sibbes,  those  foot-notes  without  any  signature 
or  initial  belong  to  the  author  or  his  original  editors.  For  all  others  prefixed  or 
Bubjoined  to  the  several  treatises,  &c..  having  G.  attached,  the  Editor  is  responsible. 


In 


A  DESCRIPTION  OF  CHRIST. 


Behold  my  servant,  whom  I  have  chosen  ;  my  beloved,  in  whom  my  soul  is  well 
pleased :  I  will  put  my  Spint  upon  him,  and  he  shall  sheiv  judgment  to  the 
Gentiles.  He  shall  not  strive,  nor  cry;  neither  shall  any  man  hear  his  voice  in 
the  streets,  &c. — Matt.  XII.  18. 

The  words  are  the  accoraplishment  of  a  prophecy,  taken  out  of  Isaiali  xlii. 
1,  2,  as  we  may  see  by  the  former  verse,  '  that  it  might  be  fulfilled.'  Now 
the  occasion  of  bringing  them  in  here  in  this  verse,  it  is  a  charge  that 
Christ  gives,  verse  16,  that  they  should  not  discover  and  make  him 
known  for  the  miracles  he  did.  He  withdraws  himself;  he  was  desirous  to  be 
concealed,  he  would  not  live  to  the  view  over  much,  for  he  knew  the  re- 
bellious disposition  of  the  Jews,  that  were  willing  to  change  their  govern- 
ment, and  to  make  him  king ;  therefore,  he  laboured  to  conceal  himself  all 
kind  of  ways.  Now,  upon  this  charge,  that  they  should  tell  nobody,  he 
brings  in  the  prophet  Isaiah  prophespng  of  him,  '  Behold  my  servant,  &c. ; 
he  shall  not  strive  nor  cry,  neither  shaU  any  man  hear  his  voice  in  the 
streets.'  Other  kings  labour  that  their  pomp  and  magnificence  may  be 
seen ;  but  he  shall  not  mind  ostentation,  he  shall  not  be  contentious  nor 
clamorous.  For  these  three  things  are  meant  when  he  saith,  *  he  shall  not 
strive,  nor  cry,  neither  shall  his  voice  be  heard  in  the  streets ;'  he  shall 
not  yield  to  any  ostentation,  for  he  came  in  an  abased  state  to  work  our 
salvation ;  he  shall  not  be  contentious,  nor  yet  clamorous  in  matter  of 
wrong ;  there  shall  be  no  boasting  any  kind  of  way,  as  we  shall  see  when 
we  come  to  the  words.     You  see,  then,  the  inference  here. 

The  inference  in  the  prophet  Isaiah  is  to  comfort  the  people,  and  to 
direct  them  how  to  come  to  worship  the  true  God,  after  he  had  declaimed 
against  their  idoMry,  as  we  see  in  the  former  chapter,  '  Behold  my  ser- 
vant,' &c.  Great  princes  have  their  ambassadors,  and  the  great  God  of 
heaven  hath  his  Son,  his  servant  in  whom  he  deUghts,  through  whom,  and 
by  whom,  aU  intercourse  between  God  and  man  is. 

It  is  usual  in  the  prophecies,  especially  of  Isaiah,  that  evangelical  pro- 
phet, when  he  foretells  anything  comfortable  to  the  people,  in  the  promise 
of  temporal  things,  he  riseth  to  stablish  their  faith  in  better  things,  by 
adding  thereto  a  prophecy,  and  promise  of  Christ  the  Messiah,  to  insinuate 
thus  much,  I  will  send  you  the  Messiah,  that  is  a  greater  gift  than  this  that 
I  have  promised  you ;  therefore  you  may  be  sure  of  the  less,  as  the  apostle 


A  DESCRIPTION  OF  CHRIST. 


reasons  excellently,  '  If  he  spared  not  his  own  son,  but  delivered  him  to 
death  for  us  all,  how  shall  he  not  with  him  give  us  all  things  ?'  Eom.  viii. 
32.  So  here,  I  have  promised  you  deliverance  out  of  Babylon,  and  this 
and  that ;  do  you  doubt  of  the  performance  ?  Alas  !  what  is  that  in  com- 
parison of  a  greater  favour  I  intend  you  in  Christ,  that  shall  deHver  you 
out  of  another  manner  of  Babylon  ?  '  Behold  my  servant  whom  I  have 
chosen ;'  and  in  Isaiah  vii.  14,  '  Behold  a  virgin  shall  conceive,  and  bear 
a  son,'  &c.  I  will  send  you  the  Messiah ;  God  shall  become  man  ;  there- 
fore, I  will  not  stand  for  any  outward  favour  or  deUverance  whatsoever.  So 
he  goes  to  the  grand  promise,  that  they  might  reason  from  the  greater  to 
the  less. 

There  is  another  end,  why  in  other  promises  there  is  mention  of  the  pro- 
mise of  the  Messiah,  to  uphold  their  faith.  Alas !  we  are  unworthy  of 
these  promises,  we  are  laden  with  sin  and  iniquity.  It  is  no  matter,  I  will 
send  you  the  Messiah.  '  Behold  my  servant  in  whom  my  soul  delighteth,' 
and  for  his  sake  I  wiU  dehght  m  you.  I  am  well  pleased  with  you,  because 
I  am  well  pleased  in  him;  therefore,  be  not  discouraged.  'All  the  pro- 
mises are  yea  and  amen  in  Jesus  Christ,'  2  Cor.  i.  19  ;  for  all  the  promises 
that  be,  though  they  be  for  the  things  of  this  life,  they  are  made  for  Christ, 
they  are  yea  in  him,  and  they  are  performed  for  his  sake,  they  are  amen  in 
him.  So  much  for  the  occasion  of  the  inference  in  the  evangeUst  St 
Matthew,  and  likewise  in  the  prophet  Isaiah. 

To  come  more  directly  to  the  words,  '  Behold  my  servant  whom  I  have 
chosen,  my  beloved  in  whom  my  soul  is  well  pleased,'  &c. 

In  the  words  you  have  a  description  of  Christ,  his  nearness  to  God: 
'  Behold  my  servant  whom  I  have  chosen,  my  beloved  in  whom  my  soul  is 
well  pleased.'  And  then  his  calling  and  qualification :  '  I  will  put  my  Spirit 
upon  him.'  ^And  the  execution  of  that  calling  :  '  He  shall  shewjudgment  to 
the  Gentiles.'  Then  the  quiet  and  peaceable  manner  of  the  execution  of  his 
callmg  :  '  He  shall  not  strive  nor  cry,  neither  shall  any  man  hear  his  voice 
in  the  streets,'  &c. 

Behold ! — This  word  is  as  it  were  a  beacon  lighted  up  to  all  the  rest.  In 
all  the  evangelists  you  have  this  word  often  repeated,  and  the  prophets 
likewise  when  they  speak  of  Christ ;  there  is  no  prophecy  almost  but  there 
is  this  word,  ^  Behold.' 

Why  ?  Not  to  spend  time  in  the  variety  of  acceptions  (=  acceptations), 
but  to  speak  of  it  as  may  serve  for  the  present  purpose.  The  use  of  it 
in  the  prophet,  especially  out  of  which  these  words  are  taken,  was  to  pre- 
sent Christ  to  the  hearts  of  the  people  of  God  then ;  therefore,  he  saith, 
'  Behold,'  for  Christ  was  present  to  the  believers  then;  he  did  profit  before 
he  was,  he  did  good  before  he  was  exhibited,  because  he  was  '  the  Lamb  of 
God  slain  from  the  beginning  of  the  world,'  Rev.  xiii.  8;  he  was  yesterday 
as  well  as  to-day,  and  to-morrow  as  well  as  to-day,  '  yesterday,  to-day,  and 
the  same  for  ever,'  Heb.  xiii.  8;  he  was  present  to  their  faith,  and  present 
to  them  in  types  and  sacrifices,  and  present  in  God's  acceptation  of  him 
for  them  ;  therefore,  the  prophets  mount  up  with  the  wing  of  prophecy, 
and  in  regard  of  the  certamty  of  the  things  to  come,  they  speak  as  if  they 
were  present,  as  if  they  had  looked  on  Christ  present,  '  Behold  my  servant,' 
and  '  Behold  a  virgin,'  &c. 

But  that  is  not  all.  Another  use  of  this  word  '  behold,'  was  to  caU  the 
people's  minds  from  their  miseries,  and  from  other  abasing  objects  that 
dejected  them,  and  might  force  despair.  Why  do  you  dwell  upon  your 
unworthiness  and  sin  ?  raise  up  your  mind,  '  Behold  my  servant  whom  I 


I 


A  DESCRIPTION  OF  CHRIST.  O 

have  chosen,'  &c.  This  is  an  object  worth  beholding  and  admiration, 
especially  of  a  distressed  soul  that  may  see  in  Christ  whatsoever  may  com- 
fort it. 

A  third  end  of  it  is  to  raise  the  mind  from  any  vulgar,  common,  base 
contents.*  You  look  on  these  things,  and  are  carried  away  with  common 
trivial  objects,  as  the  poor  disciples  when  they  came  to  the  temple ;  they 
stood  wondering  at  the  stones.  What  wondrous  stones  !  what  goodly  build- 
ing is  here!  Mark  xiii.  1.  So  shallow-minded  men,  they  see  any  earthly 
excellency,  they  stand  gazing.  Alas,  saith  Christ,  do  you  wonder  at  these 
things  ?  So  the  prophet  here  raiseth  up  the  minds  of  men  to  look  on  an 
object  fit  to  be  looked  on,  *  Behold  my  servant,'  &c.  So  that  the  Holy 
Ghost  would  have  them  from  this  saving  object,  Christ,  to  raise  satisfaction 
to  their  souls  every  way.  Are  you  dejected  ?  here  is  comfort ;  are  you 
sinful  ?  here  is  righteousness  ;  are  you  led  away  with  present  contentments  ? 
here  you  have  honours,  and  pleasures,  and  all  in  Christ  Jesus.  You  have 
a  right  to  common  pleasures  that  others  have,  and  besides  them  you  have 
interest  to  others  that  are  everlasting  pleasures  that  shall  never  fail,  so  that 
there  is  nothing  that  is  dejecting  and  abasing  in  man,  but  there  is  comfort 
for  it  in  Christ  Jesus ;  he  is  a  salve  for  every  sore,  a  remedy  for  every 
malady ;  therefore,  '  Behold  my  servant.' 

This  word  '  behold,'  it  is  a  word  of  wonderment,  and,  indeed,  in  Christ 
there  are  a  world  of  wonders,  everything  is  wonderful  in  him.  Things 
new  and  wonderful,  and  things  rare,  and  things  that  are  great,  that  tran- 
scend our  capacity,  are  wonderful,  that  stop  our  understanding  that  it 
cannot  go  through  them.  Vulgar  thiuj.'-s,  we  see  through  them  quickly,  but 
when  we  see  things  that  stay  our  vmderstandings,  that  raise  our  understand- 
ings higher,  and  that  are  more  capacious  than  our  understandings,  here  is 
matter  of  admiration  and  wonder.  Now  whatsoever  may  make  wonderment 
is  in  Jesus  Christ,  whose  name  is  Wonderful,  as  it  is  in  Isa.  is.  7 ;  there- 
fore the  prophet  saith,  '  Behold.' 

My  servant. — Christ  is  called  a  servant,  first,  in  respect  of  his  creation, 
because  being  a  man,  as  a  creature  he  was  a  servant.  But  that  is  not  all. 
He  was  a  sei-vant  in  respect  of  his  condition.  Servant  implies  a  base 
and  low  condition,  Philip,  ii.  7.  Christ  took  upon  him  the  form  of  a 
servant ;  he  emptied  himself ;  he  was  the  lowest  of  all  servants  in  con- 
dition :  for  none  was  ever  so  abased  as  our  glorious  Saviour. 

And  then,  it  is  a  name  of  ofiice,  as  well  as  of  base  condition.  There 
are  ordinarj'  servants  and  extraordinaiy,  as  great  kings  have  their  servants  of 
state.  Christ  besides  his  abasement,  he  was  a  servant  of  state,  he  was  an 
ambassador  sent  from  the  great  God  ;  a  prophet,  a  priest,  and  a  king,  as 
we  shall  see  afterwards  ;  an  extraordinary  servant,  to  do  a  piece  of  service 
that  all  the  angelfe  in  heaven,  and  all  the  men  on  the  earth  joined  together, 
could  not  perform.  This  great  master-piece  of  service  was  to  bring  God 
and  man  together  again,  that  were  at  variance,  as  it  is,  1  Peter  iii.  18,  '  to 
bring  us  to  God.'  We  were  severed  and  scattered  from  God.  His  ofiice 
was  to  gather  us  together  again,  to  bring  us  aU  to  one  head  again,  to  bring 
us  to  himself,  and  so  to  God,  to  reconcile  us,  as  the  Scripture  phrase  is. 
Col.  i.  20.  Now,  it  being  the  greatest  work  and  service  that  ever  was, 
it  required  the  greatest  servant ;  for  no  creature  in  the  world  could  perform 
it.  All  the  angels  of  heaven  would  have  sunk  under  this  service,  to  have 
undergone  satisfaction  to  divine  justice  ;  for  the  angels  themselves,  when 
they  sinned,  they  could  not  recover  themselves,  but  sunk  under  their  own 
*  That  is,  '  contentments.'—  Ed. 


6  A  DESCRIPTION  OF  CHRIST. 

ein  eternally.     Thus  we  see  how  lie  is  God's  servant,  who  set  him  apart, 
and  chose  him  to  this  service. 

And  then  he  was  a  servant  to  us  ;  for  the  Son  of  man  came  to  minister, 
not  to  be  ministered  unto,  Matt.  xx.  28.  He  washed  his  disciples'  feet. 
He  was  a  servant  to  us,  because  he  did  our  work  and  suffered  our  punish- 
ment ;  we  made  him  serve  by  our  sins,  as  the  prophet  saith,  Isa.  xliii.  24. 
He  is  a  servant  that  bears  another  man's  burden.  There  was  a  double 
burden — of  obedience  active,  and  obedience  passive.  He  bore  them  both. 
He  came  under  the  law  for  us,  both  doing  what  we  should  have  done,  and 
indeed  far  more  acceptably,  and  suffering  that  we  should  have  suffered,  and 
far  more  acceptably.  He  being  our  surety,  being  a  more  excellent  person, 
he  did  bear  our  burden,  and  did  our  work,  therefore  he  was  God's  servant, 
and  our  servant ;  and  God's  servant,  because  he  was  our  servant,  because 
he  came  to  do  a  work  behoveful  to  us. 

Herein  appears  the  admirable  love  and  care  of  God  to  us  wretched 
creatures,  here  is  matter  of  wonderment. 

If  we  look  to  him  that  was  a  servant ; 

If  we  look  to  that  in  God  and  him,  that  made  him  stoop  to  be  a  servant; 

If  we  look  to  the  manner  of  the  performance  of  this  service  ; 

If  we  look  to  the  fruit  of  that  sor\dce  ;  they  are  all  matter  of  wonderment. 

If  we  look  to  the  person  that  was  this  servant ;  the  apostle,  in  Philip,  ii. 
6,  will  tell  you,  he  thought  it  not  robbery  to  be  equal  with  God,  yet  he 
took  upon  him  the  shape  of  a  servant.  Was  not  this  wonderful,  for  God 
to  become  man,  the  glorious  God  to  abase  himself,  to  be  a  servant  ?  God- 
man,  glorious  God,  and  base  servant ;  for  the  living  God  to  die,  for  the 
incomprehensible  God  to  be  enclosed  in  the  womb  of  a  virgin,  for  glory 
itself  to  be  abased,  for  riches  to  become  poor,  what  matter  of  wonderment 
is  here  !  The  very  angels  stand  at  a  gaze  and  wonder,  they  pry  into  these 
things,  1  Peter  i.  12  ;  his  name  may  well  be  wonderful. 

There  are  four  notable  conjunctions  that  are  especially  wonderful,  two  in 
us,  and  two  above  us. 

One  in  us,  is  the  conjunction  of  so  excellent  a  thing  as  the  soul  breathed 
in  by  God.  The  soul  of  man  is  an  admirable  thing.  The  world  is  not 
worth  it  in  the  judgment  of  him  that  gave  himself  for  it.  That  this  should 
be  joined  to  a  piece  of  earth  (indeed,  I  am  wonderfully  made,  saith  David, 
Ps.  cxxxix.  14)  in  regard  of  his  body,  but  the  conjunction  of  the  soul  and 
body  together,  so  excellent  a  substance  to  so  base  a  thing  as  earth,  to  a 
piece  of  red,  well-colom-ed  earth  (a),*  to  a  lump  of  flesh,  it  is  a  wondrous  con- 
junction. 

But  there  is  a  more  supernatural  conjunction  of  man  when  all  of  us, 
sinners  as  we  are,  are  knit  to  Christ  our  head,  and  head  and  members 
make  one  Christ.  Here  is  a  wondrous  conjunction.  St  Paul  calls  it  a 
mystery,  Eph.  v.  32.     These  conjunctions  in  us  are  wonderful. 

But  now,  to  go  higher,  in  Christ  there  are  more  wonderful  conjunctions ; 
for  the  greatest  and  the  meanest  to  join  together,  for  God  and  man  to 
come  together,  the  Lord  of  all  and  a  servant,  and  such  a  servant  as  should 
be  under  a  curse,  for  the  Highest  of  all  to  come  to  the  deepest  abasement. 
For  there  was  no  abasement  ever  so  deep  as  Christ's  was,  in  a  double  regard. 

First,  None  ever  went  so  low  as  he,  for  he  suffered  the  wrath  of  God, 
and  bore  upon  him  the  sins  of  us  all ;  none  ever  was  so  low. 

And  then  in  another  respect  his  abasement  was  greatest,  because  he 

*  The  letters  a,  b,  c,  &c.,  in  the  text,  refer  to  notes  appended  to  the  respective 
treatise,  &c. — G. 


A  DESCRIPTION  OF  CHRIST.  7 

descended  from  the  highest  top  of  glory;  and  for  him  to  be  man,  to 
be  a  servant,  to  be  a  curse,  to  suffer  the  wrath  of  God,  to  be  the  lowest 
of  all — Lord,  whither  dost  thou  descend  ?  Here  is  a  wonder  in  these 
conjunctions. 

Next  to  Christ's  abasement  was  Adam's ;  because  he  was  the  most  ex- 
cellent, being  in  the  state  of  innocency,  and  carrying  the  image  of  God, 
and  beiag  familiar  with  God.  For  him  presently  to  come  into  that  fearful 
condition,  it  was  the  greatest  abasement ;  because  it  was  from  the  greatest 
dignity  that  made  the  abasement  of  Christ  so  great.  For  lordship  to  submit 
to  service,  for  God  to  be  man,  the  blessed  God  to  become  a  curse,  here  is 
matter  of  wonder  indeed. 

In  Christ,  again,  there  was  a  conjunction  of  perfect  body,  perfect  soul, 
and  perfect  God,  and  all  make  one  Christ.  In  the  Trinity  there  is  a  con- 
junction of  three  persons  in  one  nature.  That  is  a  wondrous  conjunction, 
but  it  belongs  not  to  our  present  purpose.  Here  you  see  there  is  matter 
of  wonder  in  the  person,  that  Christ  should  be  a  servant. 

There  is  matter  of  wonder  likewise  in  that  from  whence  he  is  a  servant. 
Whence  comes  it  that  Christ  is  a  servant  ?  It  is  from  the  wondrous  love 
of  God,  and  the  wondrous  love  of  Christ.  To  be  so  abased,  it  was  won- 
drous love  in  God  to  give  him  to  us  to  be  so  abased,  and  the  wondrous 
misery  we  were  in,  that  we  could  not  otherwise  be  freed  from ;  for  such 
was  the  pride  of  man,  that  he,  being  man,  would  exalt  himself  to  be  like 
God.  God  became  man,  he  became' a  servant  to  expiate  our  pride  in  Adam, 
so  that  it  is  wondrous  in  the  spring  of  it.  There  was  no  such  love  as 
Christ's  to  become  a  servai't,  tluro  was  no  such  misery  as  we  were  in,  out 
of  which  we  were  dehvered  by  this  abasement  of  Christ  becoming  a  servant ; 
so  it  is  wondrous  in  that  regard,  springing  from  the  infinite  love  and  mercy 
of  God,  which  is  greater  in  the  work  of  redemption  and  reconciliation 
than  in  the  creation  of  the  world,  for  the  distance  between  nothing  and 
something  was  less  than  the  distance  between  sin  and  happiness.  For 
nothing  adds  no  opposition ;  but  to  be  in  a  sinful  state  there  is  opposition. 
Therefore  it  was  greater  love  and  mercy  for  God,  when  we  were  sinful,  and 
so  obnoxious  to  eternal  destruction,  to  make  us  of  sinners,  not  only  men, 
but  to  make  us  happy,  to  make  us  heirs  of  heaven  out  of  a  sinful  and 
cursed  estate,  than  to  make  us  of  nothing  something,  to  make  us  men  in 
Adam,  for  there  God  prevailed  over  nothing,  but  here  his  mercy  triumphed 
over  that  which  is  opposite  to  God,  over  sinfulness  and  cursedness.  To 
shew  that  the  creature  cannot  be  so  low  but  there  is  somewhat  in  God 
above  the  misery  'of  the  creature,  his  mercy  shall  triumph  over  the  basest 
estate  where  he  will  shew  mercy.  Therefore  there  is  mercy  above  all  mercy 
and  love  above  aU  love,  in  that  Christ  was  a  servant. 

Thirdly,  It  is  wondrous  in  regard  of  the  fruit  we  have  by  this  service  of 
Christ,  the  work  of  our  redemption,  to  be  translated  fi-om  the  kingdom  of 
Satan  to  the  glorious  liberty  of  the  sons  of  God,  Kom.  viii.  21,  to  be 
brought  out  of  darkness  into  marvellous  light.  It  is  a  marvellous  matter  of 
wonder,  the  good  we  have  by  this  abasement  of  Christ,  '  Behold  what  love 
the  Father  hath  shewed  us,  that  we  should  be  called  the  sons  of  God ! ' 
1  John  iii.  1.  Now,  all  this  comes  from  Christ's  being  a  servant.  Our 
Hberty  comes  from  his  service  and  slavery,  our  life  from  his  death,  our 
adoption  and  sonship  and  all  comes  from  his  abasement.  Therefore  it  is  a 
matter  of  wonderment  for  the  great  things  we  have  by  it,  0  the  depth,  0 
the  depth,  saith  St  Paul,  Rom.  xi.  33.  Here  are  all  dimensions  in  this 
excellent  work  that  Christ  hath  wrought  by  his  abasement,  by  his  incama- 


8  A  DESCRIPTION  OF  CHRIST. 

tion,  and  taking  upon  him  the  form  of  a  servant,  and  dying  for  us  ;  here  is 
the  height  and  breadth,  and  length  and  depth  of  the  love  of  God  in  Christ. 
0  the  riches  of  God's  mercy !  The  apostles  they  stand  in  a  wonder  and 
admii-ation  of  this,  and  indeed,  if  anything  be  to  be  admired,  it  is  Christ, 
that  wondrous  conjunction,  the  wondrous  love  that  wi'ought  it,  and  the 
wondrous  fruit  we  have  by  it. 

It  is  the  baseness  of  our  nature  we  can  wonder  at  shallow  things.  There 
cannot  be  foolery,  but  there  will  be  many  about  it  presently,  and  stand  ad- 
miring every  empty  idle  thing  that  the  nature  of  man  is  carried  away  with  ; 
whereas  indeed  there  is  nothing  worthy  of  admiration  but  the  wonderful 
love  of  God.  0  how  wonderful  are  thy  works,  saith  David,  of  the  works  of 
creation,  Ps.  viii.  1.  The  work  of  creation  and  of  providence  whereby  God 
guides  the  world  are  wonderful,  and  the  psalmist  cries  out  of  the  foUy  of 
men,  that  do  not  regard  the  work  of  the  Lord,  '  Fools  regard  not  this ' 
Ps.  xiv  1 ;  '  The  works  of  the  Lord  are  worthy  to  be  considered,  they  are 
known  of  all  tnat  dehght  in  them,'  Ps.  cxi.  2.  But  if  these  things  be  so 
wonderful,  and  to  be  regarded  and  delighted  in,  alas !  what  is  all  the  work  of 
redemption !  Great  is  the  mystery  of  godliness,  God  manifested  in  the  flesh, 
&c.,  1  Tim.  iii.  16.  There  are  mysteries,  matters  of  admiration,  but 
carnal  men  think  these  trival  matters,  they  can  hear  matters  of  more  rarity; 
and  when  they  speak  of  these  things,  alas!  they  are  too  wise  to  wonder, 
tush,  they  know  the  gospel  well  enough,  whereas  indeed,  as  we  see  here, 
they  are  things  that  deserve  the  admiration  of  angels ;  and  as  they  deserve 
it,  so  the  angels  pry  into  these  excellent  secrets  in  Jesus  Christ,  1  Pet.  i.  12. 

Christ  was  a  servant  by  office  and  by  condition.  We  must  not  rest  in 
this  base  condition ;  for  he  took  upon  him  the  form  of  a  servant  that  he 
might  be  an  excellent  servant.  There  is  both  baseness  and  excellency  in 
the  word  servant ;  for  his  humiliation  was  a  degree  of  his  exaltation,  and 
a  part  of  his  advancement.  If  we  regard  his  human  nature,  it  was  an  ad- 
vancement for  man's  nature  to  be  gi-afted  into  God  by  conception  and  incar- 
nation ;  but  if  we  regard  his  Godhead,  for  him  to  conceal  himself,  and  lay 
aside  the  beams  and  rays  of  majesty,  and  clothe  himself  with  man's  flesh, 
this  was  the  first  degree  of  humiliation.  It  was  an  advancement  to  hia 
flesh,  but  it  was  a  concealing  and  hiding  to  his  Godhead.  For  God  to  be- 
come a  servant  this  was  an  abasement :  but  then  consider  the  excellency 
of  the  service,  how  God  delighted  in  it,  and  how  useful  it  was  to  us,  and  we 
shall  see  that  he  was  a  servant  by  way  of  excellency.  There  was  first  in 
Christ  human  flesh,  abased  flesh,  and  then  glorious  flesh.  Abasement  was 
first  necessary  for  Christ ;  for  he  could  not  have  performed  the  office  of  a 
servant,  unless  he  had  undertaken  the  condition  of  a  servant.  He  must 
first  be  abased  and  then  glorious,  our  iU  must  be  his  before  his  good  could 
be  ours ;  and  how  could  he  undergo  our  ill,  our  sin  and  misery,  and  the 
curse  due  to  us,  but  he  must  be  abased  ?  Our  sins  must  be  imputed  to  him, 
and  then  his  righteousness  and  whatsoever  is  good  is  ours  ;  so  here  is  both 
the  abasement  of  his  condition,  and  the  excellency  of  his  office  to  be  a  king, 
priest,  and  prophet  to  his  church,  as  we  shall  see  afterwards. 

Is  the  Lord  Christ  a  servant  ?  This  should  teach  us  not  to  stand  upon 
any  terms.  If  Christ  had  stood  upon  terms,  if  he  had  refused  to  take  upon 
him  the  shape  of  a  servant,  alas  !  where  had  we  and  our  salvation  been  ? 
And  yet  wretched  creatures,  we  think  ourselves  too  good  to  do  God  and 
our  brethren  any  service.  Christ  stood  not  upon  his  greatness,  but,  being 
equal  vnth.  God,  he  became  a  servant.  Oh  !  we  should  dismount  from  the 
tower  of  our  conceited  excellency.    The  heart  of  man  is  a  proud  creature,  a 


A  DESCKIPTION  OF  CHEIST.  9 

proud  piece  of  flesh.  Men  stand  upon  tlaeir  distance.  What !  shall  I 
stoop  to  him  ?  I  am  thus  and  thus.  We  should  descend  from  the  heaven 
of  our  conceit,  and  take  upon  us  the  form  of  servants,  and  abase  ourselves 
to  do  good  to  others,  even  to  any,  and  account  it  an  honour  to  do  any  good 
to  others  in  the  places  we  are  in.  Christ  did  not  think  himself  too  good 
to  leave  heaven,  to  conceal  and  veil  his  majesty  under  the  veil  of  our  flesh, 
to  work  our  redemption,  to  bring  us  out  of  the  cursed  estate  we  were  in. 
Shall  we  think  ourselves  too  good  for  any  service  ?  Who  for  shame  can 
be  proud  when  he  thinks  of  this,  that  God  was  abased  ?  Shall  God  be 
abased,  and  man  proud  ?  Shall  God  become  a  servant,  and  shall  we  that 
are  servants  think  much  to  serve  our  fellow- servants  ?  Let  us  learn 
this  lesson,  to  abase  ourselves ;  we  cannot  have  a  better  pattern  to  look 
unto  than  our  blessed  Saviour.  A  Christian  is  the  greatest  freeman  in  the 
world  ;  he  is  free  from  the  wrath  of  God,  free  from  hell  and  damnation, 
from  the  curse  of  the  law ;  but  then,  though  he  be  free  in  tbese  respects, 
yet,  in  regard  of  love,  he  is  the  greatest  servant.  Love  abaseth  him  to  do 
all  the  good  he  can  ;  and  the  more  the  Spirit  of  Christ  is  in  us,  the  more 
it  will  abase  us  to  anything  wherein  we  can  be  serviceable. 

Then,  again,  here  is  comfort  for  us,  that  Christ,  in  whatsoever  he  did  in 
our  redemption,  is  God's  servant.  He  is  appointed  by  God  to  the  work ; 
so,  both  God  and  Christ  meet  together  in  the  work.  Christ  is  a  voluntary 
in  it,  for  he  emptied  himself,  he  took  upon  him  the  form  of  a  servant, 
Phil.  ii.  6,  he  came  from  heaven  voluntarily.  And  then  withal  the  Fa- 
ther joins  with  him,  the  Father  appointed  him  and  sent  him,  the  Father 
laid  him  as  the  comer-stone,  the  Father  sealed  him,  as  it  is,  John  vi.  27,  the 
Father  set  him  out,  as  it  is,  Kom.  iii.  25.  '  He  hath  set  him  out  as  the  propi- 
tiatory.' Therefore,  when  we  think  of  reconciliation  and  redemption,  and 
salvation  wrought  by  Chi-ist,  let  us  comfort  oui-selves  in  the  solidity  of  the 
work,  that  it  is  a  service  perfectly  done.  It  was  done  by  Christ,  God-man. 
It  is  a  service  accepted  of  God,  therefore  God  cannot  refuse  the  service  of 
our  salvation  wrought  by  Christ.  Christ  was  his  servant  in  the  working 
of  it.  We  may  present  it  to  God,  it  is  the  obedience  of  thy  servant,  it  is  the 
satisfaction  of  thy  servant.  Here  is  that  will  give  full  content  and  satis- 
faction to  conscience,  in  this,  that  whatsoever  Christ  did,  he  was  God's  ser- 
vant in  it.  But  we  shaU  better  understand  the  intent  of  the  Holy  Ghost 
when  we  have  gone  over  the  rest  of  the  words,  '  Behold  my  servant  whom  I 
have  chosen.' 

Christ  was  chosen  before  all  worlds  to  be  the  head  of  the  elect.  He  was 
predestinate  and  ordained  by  God.  As  we  are  ordained  to  salvation,  so 
Christ  is  ordained  to  be  the  head  of  all  that  shall  be  saved.  He  was  chosen 
eternally,  and  chosen  in  time.  He  was  singled  out  to  the  work  by  God ; 
and  all  others  that  are  chosen  are  chosen  in  him.  There  had  been  no 
choosing  of  men  but  in  him ;  for  God  saw  us  so  defiled,  lying  in  our  filth,  that 
he  could  not  look  upon  us  but  in  his  Son.     He  chose  him,  and  us  in  him. 

Here  is  meant,  not  only  choosing  by  eternal  election  to  happiness,  but 
a  choosing  to  ofiice.  There  is  a  choosing  to  grace  and  glory,  and  a  choos- 
ing to  office.  Here,  it  is  as  well  meant,  a  choosing  to  office,  as  to  grace 
and  glory.  God,  as  he  chose  Christ  to  grace  and  glory,  so  he  chose  him 
to  the  office  of  Mediatorship.  Christ  did  not  choose  himself ;  he  was  no 
usurper.  No  man  calls  himself  to  the  office,  as  it  is  in  Heb.  v.  4  ;  but 
Christ  was  called  and  appointed  of  God.  He  was  willing,  indeed,  to  the 
work,  he  took  it  voluntary  upon  him  ;  but  as  Mediator,  God  chose  him, 
God  the  Father  and  he  joining  together. 


10  A  DESCRIPTION  OF  CHRIST. 

If  \vu  respcc^'t  iiterual  salvation,  or  grace,  or  office,  Christ  was  chosen  in 
respect  of  his  manhood  ;  for,  as  it  is  well  observed  by  divines,  Christ  is 
the  head  of  all  that  are  predestinate  ;  and  the  human  nature  of  Christ 
could  not  merit  its  choice,  it  could  not  merit  its  incarnation,  it  could  not 
merit  union  with  the  Godhead,  it  was  merely  from  grace.  How  could 
Christ's  manhood  deserve  anything  of  God  before  it  was  ?  Things  must 
have  a  subsistence  be'fore  they  can  work  :  our  blessed  Saviour  is  the  pattern 
of  all  election,  and  his  manhood  could  not  merit  to  be  knit  to  the  second 
person  ;  as  how  could  it,  being  a  creature  ?  Therefore  the  knitting  of  the 
human  nature  of  Christ  to  his  divine,  it  is  called  the  grace  of  union.  The 
choosing  of  the  human  nature  of  Christ  to  be  so  gracious  and  glorious,  it 
was  of  grace. 

Christ  he  was  both  a  chosen  servant  and  a  choice  servant.  In  calling 
him  a  chosen  servant,  it  implies  his  excellency,  as  a  chosen  vessel.  Acts  ix. 
15,  a  chosen  arrow  in  God's  quiver,  Lament,  iii.  13,  so  a  chosen  servant, 
every  way  excellent. 

This  adds  to  our  comfort,  that  whatsoever  Christ  did  for  us,  he  did  it  as 
chosen  ;  he  is  a  chosen  stone,  as  St  Peter  saith,  1  Peter  ii.  6,  '  a  precious 
corner-stone  ;'  though  refused  of  the  builders,  yet  precious  in  God's  sight ! 

Was  Christ  a  chosen  servant  of  God,  and  shaU  not  we  take  God's 
choice  ?  Is  not  God's  choice  the  best  and  the  wisest  ?  Hath  God  chosen 
Christ  to  work  our  salvation,  and  shall  we  choose  any  other  ?  Shall  we 
run  to  saints'  mediation,  to  the  vii'gin  Mary,  and  others,  for  intercession, 
which  is  a  part  of  Christ's  office  ?  Who  chose  Mary,  and  Peter,  and  Paul 
to  this  work  ?  There  is  no  mention  in  Scripture  of  them  for  this  purpose, 
but  behold  iny  servant,  whom  I  have  chosen. 

God  in  paradise  did  choose  a  wife  for  Adam,  so  God  hath  chosen  a 
husband  for  his  church  ;  he  hath  chosen  Christ  for  us :  therefore  it  is 
intolerable  sacrilegious  rebellion  and  impudency  to  refuse  a  Saviour  and 
Mediator  of  God's  choosing,  and  to  set  up  others  of  our  own,  as  if  we 
were  wiser  to  choose  for  ourselves  than  God  is.  We  may  content  our- 
selves well  enough  with  God's  choice,  because  he  is  the  party  offended. 

Besides,  it  is  folly  to  go  out  from  Christ,  where  there  is  all  fulness  and 
content,  to  leave  God's  chosen  servant,  and  to  go  to  any  other  servant,  to 
any  broken  vessel.  God  rests  in  this  servant  as  Pharaoh  did  in  Joseph, 
the  second  person  in  the  kingdom,  Gen.  xli.  40,  43.  Therefore  let  God's 
choice  and  ours  agree. 

And  this  directs  us  also,  in  our  devotions  to  God,  how  to  carry  our- 
selves in  our  prayers  and  services,  to  offer  Christ  to  God.  Behold,  Lord, 
thy  chosen  servant,  that  thou  hast  chosen  to  be  my  Mediator,  my  Saviour,  my 
all  in  all  to  me,  he  is  a  mediator  and  a  Saviour  of  thine  own  choosing,  thou 
canst  not  refuse  thy  own  choice ;  if  thou  look  upon  me,  there  is  nothing  but 
matter  of  unworthiness,  but  look  upon  him  whom  thou  hast  chosen,  my 
head  and  my  Saviour ! 

Again,  if  Christ  be  a  chosen  servant,  0  let  us  take  heed  how  we  neglect 
Christ.  When  God  hath  chosen  him  for  us,  shall  not  we  think  him  worthy 
to  be  embraced  and  regarded ;  shall  we  not  kiss  the  Son  with  the  kiss  of 
love,  and  faith,  and  subjection  ?  He  is  a  Saviour  of  God's  own  choosing, 
refuse  him  not.  What  is  the  reason  that  men  refuse  this  chosen  stone  ? 
They  will  not  be  laid  low  enough  to  build  upon  this  corner  stone,  this 
hidden  stone.  The  excellency  of  Christ  is  hidden,  it  appears  not  to  men, 
men  will  not  be  squared  to  be  built  upon  him.  Stones  for  a  building  must 
be  framed,  and  made  even,  and  flat.     Men  stick  out  with  this  and  that 


A  DESCRIPTION  OF  CHRIST.  11 

lust,  they  will  not  be  pared  and  cut  and  fitted  for  Christ.  If  they  may 
have  their  lusts  and  wicked  lives,  they  will  admit  of  Christ.  But  we  must 
make  choice  of  him  as  a  stone  to  build  upon  him ;  and  to  be  built  on  him, 
we  must  be  made  like  him.  We  like  not  this  laying  low  and  abasing, 
therefore  we  refuse  this  corner  stone,  though  God  hath  made  him  the 
corner  of  building  to  all  those  that  have  the  life  of  grace  here,  or  shall  have 
glory  hereafter. 

The  papists  admit  him  to  be  a  stone,  but  not  the  only  stone  to  build  on, 
but  they  build  upon  him  and  saints,  upon  him  and  works,  upon  him  and 
traditions.  But  he  is  the  only  corner  stone.  God  hath  chosen  him  only, 
and  we  must  choose  him  only,  that  we  may  be  framed  and  laid  upon  him 
to  make  up  one  building.  So  much  for  that,  '  Behold  my  servant  whom  I 
have  chosen.' 

My  Beloved,  in  whom  my  soul  is  ivell  pleased. — How  do  we  know  that 
these  words  in  the  prophet  Isaiah  are  fitly  appliable  to  Christ  ?  By  the 
greatest  authority  that  ever  was  from  the  beginning  of  the  world,  by  the 
immediate  voice  of  God  the  Father  from  heaven,  who  applies  these  words 
in  Isaiah  to  Christ,  Matt.  iii.  17,  in  his  inauguration  when  he  was  baptized, 
'  This  is  my  beloved  Son,  in  whom  I  am  well  pleased,'  this  is  that  my  Son,  that 
beloved,  6  dyd'xriTog,  the  beloved  Son,  so  beloved  that  my  soul  delights  in 
him,  he  is  capable  of  my  whole  love,  I  may  pour  out  my  whole  love  upon 
him,  '  In  whom  I  am  well  pleased,'  it  is  the  same  with  that  here,  '  in  whom 
my  soul  delighteth,'  the  one  expresseth  the  other. 

How,  and  in  what  respect  is  Christ  thus  beloved  of  God  ? 

First  as  he  is  God,  the  Son  of  God,  the  engraven  image  of  his  Father,  so 
he  is  primum  amahile,  the  first  lovely  thing  that  ever  was.  When  the 
Father  loves  him,  he  loves  himself  in  him,  so  he  loves  him  as  God,  as  the 
second  person,  as  his  own  image  and  character. 

And  as  man  he  loves  him,  for  as  man  he  was  the  most  excellent  creature 
in  the  world,  he  was  conceived,  fashioned,  and  framed  in  his  mother's 
womb  by  the  Holy  Ghost.  It  is  said,  Heb.  x.  5,  God  gave  him  a  body. 
God  the  Father  by  the  Holy  Ghost  fashioned  and  framed  and  fitted  him 
with  a  body,  therefore  God  must  needs  love  his  own  workmanship. 

Again,  there  was  nothing  in  him  displeasing  to  God,  there  was  no  sin 
found  in  his  life  any  way,  therefore  as  man  he  was  well  pleasing  to  God. 
He  took  the  manhood  and  ingrafted  it  into  the  second  person,  and  enriched  it 
there ;  therefore  he  must  needs  love  the  manhood  of  Christ,  being  taken  into 
so  near  a  union  with  the  Godhead. 

As  God  and  man  mediator  especially,  he  loves  and  delights  in  him.  In 
regard  of  his  office,  he  must  needs  dehght  in  his  own  ordinance  and  de- 
cree. Now  he  decreed  and  sealed  him  to  that  office,  therefore  he  loves  and 
delights  in  him  as  a  mediator  of  his  own  appointing  and  ordaining,  to  be 
our  king,  and  priest,  and  prophet. 

Again,  he  loved  and  delighted  in  him,  in  regard  of  the  execution  of  his 
office  both  in  doing  and  suff'ering.  In  doing,  the  evangelist  saith,  '  He  did 
all  things  well,'  Mark  vii.  37.  When  he  healed  the  sick,  and  raised  the 
dead,  and  cured  all  diseases,  whatsoever  he  did  was  well  done.  And  for 
his  suffering,  God  dehghted  in  him  for  that,  as  it  is  in  John  x.  17,  '  My 
Father  loves  me,  because  I  lay  down  my  life  ;'  and  so  in  Isa.  liii.  12,  *  He 
shall  divide  him  a  portion  with  the  great,  because  he  poured  out  his  soul 
unto  death;'  and  in  Phil.  ii.  9,  '  Because  he  abased  himself  to  the  death  of 
the  cross,  '  God  gave  him  a  name  above  all  names :'  therefore  God  loves  and 
delights  in  him  for  his  sufiering  and  abasement. 


12  A  DESCRIPTION  OF  CHRIST. ' 

It  is  said  of  Noali,  Gen.  viii.  21,  that  he  offered  a  sacrifice  after  the 
flood,  and  'the  Lord  smelled  a  sweet  savour  of  his  sacrifice,'  and  thereupon 
he  saith, '  I  will  not  curse  the  earth  again.'  So  God  loves  and  dehghts  in  Christ 
as  he  ofiered  himself  a  sacrifice  of  a  sweet  smelling  savour  wherein  God  rests ; 
he  felt  such  a  sweet  savour  in  the  sacrifice  of  Christ,  he  is  so  delighted  in 
it,  that  he  will  never  destroy  mankind,  he  will  never  destroy  any  that  be- 
lieve in  Christ.     The  sacrifice  of  Noah  was  a  type  of  Christ's  sacrifice. 

Now,  that  Christ's  sacrifice  was  so  acceptable  to  God,  there  is  a  direct 
place  for  it  in  Eph.  v.  2,  '  Walk  in  love,  as  Christ  hath  loved  us,  and  hath 
given  himself  an  offering  and  a  sacrifice  to  God  of  a  sweet  smell.'  And  in- 
deed how  many  sweet  savours  were  there  in  the  sacrifice  of  Christ  offered  on 
the  cross !  Was  there  not  the  sweet  savour  of  obedience  ?  he  was  '  obedient 
to  the  death  of  the  cross,'  Phil.  ii.  8.  There  was  the  sweet  savour  of 
patience,  and  of  love  to  mankind.  Therefore  God  delighted  in  him,  as  God, 
as  man,  as  mediator  God-man,  in  his  doings,  in  his  sufierings,  every  way. 

Doth  God  deUght  thus  in  Christ,  in  his  person,  or  considered  mystically? 
I  answer ;  both.  God  loves  and  dehghts  in  Christ  mystical,  that  is,  in 
Christ  and  his  members,  in  whole  Christ.  '  This  is  my  beloved  Son,  in 
whom  I  am  well  pleased,'  not  only  with  whom  alone  by  himself,  but  '  in 
whom,'  in  him  as  God,  in  him  in  body  and  soul,  in  him  as  head  of  the 
church,  in  him  mystically,  in  aU  that  are  under  him  any  kind  of  way.  God 
delights  in  him,  and  all  his. 

Is  it  possible  that  he  should  dehght  in  the  head,  and  refuse  the  mem- 
bers ?  that  he  should  love  the  husband,  and  mislike  the  spouse  ?  0  no  ; 
with  the  same  love  that  God  loves  Christ,  he  loves  all  his.  He  delights  in 
Christ  and  all  his,  with  the  same  delight.  There  is  some  difi'erence  in  the 
degree,  *  that  Chi'ist  in  all  things  may  have  the  pre-eminence,'  Col.  i.  18, 
but  it  is  the  same  love  ;  therefore  our  Saviour  sets  it  down  excellently  in 
his  own  prayer,  he  desires  '  that  the  same  love  wherewith  his  Father  loved 
him  may  be  in  them  that  are  his,'  John  xvii.  20,  that  they  may  feel  the 
love  wherewith  his  Father  loves  him,  for  he  loved  him  and  his  members, 
him  and  his  spouse,  with  all  one  love. 

This  is  our  comfort  and  our  confidence,  that  God  accepts  us,  because  he 
accepts  his  beloved ;  and  when  he  shall  cease  to  love  Christ,  he  shall  cease 
to  love  the  members  of  Christ.  They  and  Christ  make  one  mystical  Christ, 
■riiis  is  our  comfort  in  dejection  for  sin.  We  are  so  and  so  indeed,  but 
Christ  is  the  chosen  servant  of  God,  '  in  whom  he  delighteth,'  and  delights 
in  us  in  him.  It  is  no  matter  what  we  are  in  ourselves,  but  what  we  are 
in  Christ  when  we  are  once  in  him  and  continue  in  him.  God  loves  us 
with  that  inseparable  love  wherewith  he  loves  his  own  Son.  Therefore  St 
Paul  triumphs,  Rom.  viii.  35,  '  What  shall  separate  us  from  the  love  of 
God  in  Christ  Jesus?'  This  love,  it  is  founded  in  Christ,  'therefore 
neither  things  present,  nor  things  to  come  (as  he  goes  on  there  gloriously), 
shall  be  able  to  separate  us.'  You  see  what  a  wondrous  confidence  and 
comfort  we  have  hence,  if  we  labour  to  be  in  Christ,  that  then  God  loves 
and  delights  in  us,  because  he  loves  and  delights  in  Christ  Jesus. 

And  here  is  a  wondrous  comfort,  that  God  must  needs  love  our  salvation 
and  redemption  when  he  loves  Christ,  because  '  he  poured  out  his  soul  to 
death  to  save  us.'  Doth  not  God  dehght  that  we  should  be  saved,  and  our 
sins  should  be  forgiven,  when  he  loves  Christ  because  he  abased  himself 
for  that  purpose  ?  What  a  prop  and  foundation  of  comfort  is  this,  when 
the  devil  shall  present  God  to  us  in  a  terrible  hideous  manner,  as  an 
avenging  God,  '  and  consuming  fire,'  &c.,  Heb.  xii.  29;  indeed  out  of  Chiist 


A  DESCRIPTIOK  OF  CHRIST.  13 

he  is  so.  Let  us  present  to  ourselves  thoughts  of  God  as  the  Scripture 
sets  forth  God  to  us  ;  and  as  God  sets  forth  himself,  not  only  in  that  sweet 
relation  ?.s  a  Father  to  Christ,  but  our  father,  'I  go  to  my  Father  and 
your  FatS.er,  to  my  God  and  your  God,'  John  xx.  17,  having  both  one  God, 
and  love  and  care.  There  is  none  of  us  all  but  the  devil  will  have  a  say- 
ing to  us,  either  in  the  time  of  our  life,  in  some  terrible  temptation,  espe- 
cially when  any  outward  abasement  comes,  or  at  the  hour  of  death ;  and 
all  the  cordials  we  have  gathered  out  of  the  word  will  then  be  little  enough 
to  support  the  drooping  soul,  especially  in  the  hour  of  temptation.  0  be- 
loved, what  a  wondrous  stay  and  satisfaction  to  a  distressed  conscience 
doth  this  yield,  that  Christ  in  aU  that  he  hath  wrought  for  us  is  God's 
chosen  servant,  '  whom  he  loves  and  delights  in,'  and  delights  in  him  for 
this  very  work,  that  he  abased  himself  and  gave  himself  for  us,  that  he 
wrought  God's  work,  because  he  wrought  reconciUation  for  us  !  If  we  can 
believe  in  Christ,  we  see  here  what  ground  of  comfort  we  have,  that  God 
loves  and  delights  in  us,  as  he  doth  in  his  own  Son. 

And  what  a  comfort  is  it  now,  in  our  daily  approach  to  God,  to  minister 
boldness  to  us  in  all  our  suits,  that  we  go  to  God  in  the  name  of  one  that 
he  loves,  '  in  whom  his  soul  delights,'  that  we  have  a  friend  in  court,  a 
friend  in  heaven  for  us,  that  is  at  the  right  hand  of  God,  and  interposeth 
himself  there  for  us  in  all  our  suits,  that  makes  us  acceptable,  that 
perfumes  our  prayers  and  makes  them  acceptable.  His  intercession 
is  still  by  virtue  of  his  service,  dying  for  us.  He  intercedes  by  virtue 
of  his  redemption.  If  God  love  him  for  the  work  of  redemption,  he 
loves  him  for  his  intercession,  therefore  God  must  needs  regard  the  prayers 
made  by  him,  by  virtue  of  his  dying  for  us,  when  he  loves  him  for  dying  for 
us.  Be  sure  therefore,  in  all  our  suits  to  God,  to  take  along  our  elder  brother, 
to  take  oui"  beloved  brother,  take  Benjamin  with  us,  offer  all  to  God  in  him, 
our  persons  to  be  accepted  in  him,  our  prayers,  our  hearing,  our  works, 
and  all  that  we  do,  and  we  shall  be  sure  to  speed ;  for  he  is  one  in  whom 
the  soul  of  God  delights.  There  must  be  this  passage  and  repassage,  as 
God  looks  upon  us  lovely  in  him,  and  delights  in  us  as  we  are  members  of 
him.  AU  God's  love  and  the  fruits  of  it  come  t  o  us  as  we  are  in  Christ, 
and  are  one  with  him.  Then  in  our  passage  to  God  again  we  must  return 
all,  and  do  all,  to  God  iu  Christ.  Be  sure  not  to  go  to  a  naked  God ;  for  so 
he  is  '  a  consuming  fire,'  but  go  to  him  in  the  mediation  of  him  whom  he 
loves,  *  and  in  whom  his  soul  delighteth.' 

And  shall  God  love  him  and  delight  in  him,  and  shall  not  our  soul  delight 
in  Christ  ?  This  therefore  should  stir  up  our  affections  to  Christ,  to  be 
faithful  in  our  conjugal  affection  as  the  spouse  of  Christ,  to  say,  '  My  be- 
loved is  mine  and  I  am  my  beloved's,'  Cant.  ii.  16.  Christ  calls  his  church, 
'  My  love  and  my  dove,'  Cant.  vi.  9.  Doth  Christ  delight  in  us,  and  God 
delight  in  Christ,  and  shall  not  we  delight  in  Christ  that  delights  in  us,  and 
in  whom  God  delights  ?  In  the  1  Cor.  xvi.  22,  the  apostle  is  bold  to  pro- 
nounce a  bitter  curse,  '  Anathema  Maran-atha,'  upon  him  that  loves  not 
the  Lord  Christ  Jesus,  a  most  bitter  curse.  When  Christ  shaU  become  a 
servant  to  do  our  work  for  us,  to  suffer  for  us,  to  bear  the  burden  of  our 
sins  upon  the  tree,  to  become  our  husband,  to  bestow  his  riches  upon  us, 
to  raise  us  to  the  same  condition  with  himself,  and  withal  to  be  such  a  one 
as  God  hath  chosen  out  to  love  and  delight  ia  as  the  best  object  of  his 
love,  and  most  capable  of  it,  and  for  us  not  to  solace  and  delight  ourselves 
in  him  that  God  delights  in,  when  God  dehghts  in  him  for  our  sake.  God 
loves  and  deUghts  in  him  for  the  work  of  salvation  and  redemption  by  his 


14  A  DESCRIPTION  OF  CHRIST. 

blood,  and  shall  not  we  love  and  embrace  bim  for  his  love  which  is  for  our 
good  ?  What  good  hath  God  by  it  but  only  the  glory  of  his  mercy,  in 
saving  our  souls  through  Christ  ?  Therefore  if  God  love  him  for  the  good 
he  doth  to  us,  much  more  should  we  love  him  for  the  fruit  of  it  that  we 
receive  ourselves. 

It  should  shame  us  therefore  when  we  find  dulness  and  coldness  upon 
us,  that  we  can  hear  of  anything  better  than  of  Christ ;  and  arguments 
concerning  Christ  are  cold  to  us.  Alas  !  where  is  oiu-  love,  and  joy,  and 
delight ;  and  when  we  can  make  no  better  but  a  carnal  use  of  the  incarna- 
tion and  other  benefits  by  Christ !  We  should  therefore  desu-e  God  to  shed 
the  love  of  Christ  into  our  hearts  more  and  more,  that  we  may  feel  in  our 
souls  the  love  that  he  bears  to  us,  and  may  love  God  and  Christ  again,  for 
that  that  he  hath  done  for  us. 

Hence  we  have  also  a  ground  of  estimation  of  Christians  to  be  excellent 
persons.  Doth  God  value  poor  sinful  souls  so  much  as  to  give  Christ  for 
them  to  become  a  Saviour  ?  doth  he  delight  in  Christ  for  giving  himself  for 
them  ?  and  shall  not  we  love  one  another  whom  God  and  Christ  so  loves  ? 

But  if  God  love  and  delight  in  those  that  are  in  Christ,  with  the  same 
love  and  delight  that  he  hath  in  him,  how  shall  I  know  that  I  am  in  Christ, 
and  that  God  thus  delights  in  me  ? 

Briefly,  a  man  may  know  that  he  is  in  Christ,  if  he  find  the  Spirit  of 
Christ  in  him ;  for  the  same  Spirit  when  Christ  took  our  nature,  that 
sanctified  that  blessed  mass  whereof  he  was  made,  when  there  was  a  union 
between  him  and  the  second  person,  the  same  Spirit  sanctifies  our  souls 
and  bodies.  There  is  one  Spirit  in  the  head  and  in  the  members.  There- 
fore if  we  find  the  Spirit  of  Christ  in  us,  we  are  in  Christ  and  he  in  us. 
Now  this  Spirit  is  renewing,  '  Whosoever  is  in  Christ  is  a  new  creature,' 
2  Cor.v.  17;  aU  is  new,  '  old  things  are  done  away,'  the  old  manner  of 
language,  the  old  disposition,  old  afiections,  old  company,  all  old  things  are 
past,  all  is  new  ;  and  if  a  man  be  a  new  creature,  he  hath  right  and  title  to 
'  the  new  heaven  and  new  earth,'  2  Pet.  iii.  13.  Let  us  examine  the  work 
of  grace  in  us.  If  there  be  no  change  in  us  we  have  no  present  interest  in 
Christ.  We  have  to  do  with  him  because  he  is  still  wooing  us  to  be  in  him, 
but  as  yet  we  have  no  title  to  him. 

The  very  beholding  of  Christ  is  a  transforming  sight.  The  Spirit  that 
makes  us  new  creatures,  and  stirs  us  up  to  behold  this  servant,  it  is  a  trans- 
forming beholding.  If  we  look  upon  him  with  the  eye  of  faith,  it  will  make 
us  like  Christ ;  for  the  gospel  is  a  mirror,  and  such  a  mirror,  that  when  we 
look  into  it,  and  see  ourselves  interested  in  it,  we  are  changed  from  glory 
to  glory,  2  Cor.  iii.  18.  A  man  cannot  look  upon  the  love  of  God  and  of 
Christ  in  the  gospel,  but  it  will  change  him  to  be  like  God  and  Christ. 
For  how  can  we  see  Chi-ist,  and  God  in  Christ,  but  we  shall  see  how  God 
hates  sin,  and  this  will  transform  us  to  hate  it  as  God  doth,  who  hated  it 
so  that  it  could  not  be  expiated  but  with  the  blood  of  Christ,  God- man. 
So,  seeing  the  holiness  of  God  in  it,  it  will  transform  us  to  be  holy.  When 
we  see  the  love  of  God  in  the  gospel,  and  the  love  of  Christ  giving  himself 
for  us,  this  will  transform  us  to  love  God.  When  we  see  the  humility  and 
obedience  of  Christ,  when  we  look  on  Christ  as  God's  chosen  servant  in  all 
this,  and  as  our  surety  and  head,  it  transforms  us  to  the  like  humility  and 
obedience.  Those  that  find  not  their  dispositions  in  some  comfortable 
measure  wrought  to  this  blessed  transformation,  they  have  not  yet  those 
eyes  that  the  Holy  Ghost  requireth  here.  '  Behold  my  servant  whom  I  have 
chosen,  my  beloved  in  whom  my  soul  delighteth.' 


A  DESCRIPTION  OF  CHEIST.  15 

/  will  put  my  Spirit  upon  him. — ^Now  we  come  to  the  qualification  of 
Christ  for  his  calUng,  in  these  words,  I  will  put  my  Spirit  upon  him — that 
is,  I  will  clothe  him  with  my  Spirit,  I  will  put  it,  as  it  were,  upon  him  as 
a  garment. 

Now  there  were  divers  degi'ees  of  Christ's  receiving  the  Spirit  at  several 
times.  For  he  was  conceived  by  the  Holy  Ghost.  The  Holy  Ghost  did 
sanctify  that  blessed  mass  whereof  his  body  was  framed  in  the  womb  of  the 
virgin,  he  was  quickened  in  the  womb  in  his  conception  by  the  Holy  Ghost, 
and  he  was  graced  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  led  by  the  Spirit  in  all  things 
before  his  baptism.  But  afterward,  when  he  came  to  set  upon  his  office, 
to  be  the  prophet  and  priest  and  king  of  his  church,  that  great  office  of 
saving  mankind,  which  he  did  not  solemnly  set  upon  till  he  was  thirty 
years  old,  then  God  poured  upon  him  a  special  portion  of  the  Spirit,  an- 
swerable to  that  great  calling,  then  the  Spirit  lighted  upon  him,  Matt.  iii.  16. 
Christ  was  ordained  to  his  office  by  the  greatest  authority  that  ever  any 
was  ordained  from  the  beginning  of  the  world.  For  at  his  baptism,  when  he 
was  ordained  and  set  apart  to  his  office,  there  was  the  Father  from  heaven 
uttered  an  audible  voice,  '  This  is  my  beloved  Son,  in  whom  I  am  well 
pleased,'  Mat.  iii.  17  ;  and  there  was  Christ,  the  party  baptized  and  installed 
into  that  great  office  ;  then  there  was  the  Holy  Ghost,  in  the  form  and  shape 
of  a  dove.  It  being  a  matter  of  the  greatest  consequence  that  ever  was  in 
the  world,  greater  than  the  creation,  it  was  fit  it  should  be  done  with  the 
greatest  authority ;  and  so  it  was,  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost  being 
present  at  the  admission  of  Christ  into  his  office.  This  is  especially  here 
intended,  though  the  other  be  included,  I  will  put  my  Spirit  upon  him — 
that  is,  I  will  anoint  him,  as  it  is  in  Isa.  Ixi.  1,  '  The  Spirit  of  the  Lord 
is  upon  me,'  saith  Christ,  '  because  the  Lord  hath  anointed  me  to  preach 
good  tidings  to  the  meek,  to  bind  up  the  broken-hearted,  to  proclaim  liberty 
to  the  captives,  to  open  the  prison  for  them  that  are  bound,  to  proclaim 
the  acceptable  year  of  the  Lord' — that  is,  the  year  of  jubilee,  for  that  was  a 
type  of  Chi'ist,  to  preach  the  gospel  deHverance  to  all  that  are  in  captivity, 
servitude,  and  thraldom  under  Satan  and  sin.  This  was  accomplished 
when  Christ,  at  his  baptism,  entered  upon  his  office.  God  put  his  Spirit 
upon  him,  to  set  him  apart,  to  ordain  him,  and  to  qualify  him  with  abund- 
ance of  grace  for  the  work ;  for  there  are  these  three  things  especially  meant 
by  putting  the  Spirit  upon  him,  separation  or  setting  apart,  and  ordaining, 
and  enriching  with  the  gifts  of  the  Spirit. 

When  any  one  is  called  to  great  place,  there  is  a  setting  apart  from 
others,  and  an  ordaining  to  that  particular,  and  a  qualifying.  If  it  be  a 
calling  of  God,  he  qualifies  where  he  ordains  always. 

But  Christ  had  the  Spirit  before.  What  doth  he  mean,  then,  when  he 
saith  he  will  put  the  Spirit  upon  him  now  ? 

I  answer,  he  had  the  Spirit  before,  answerable  to  that  condition  he  was 
in.  Now  he  received  the  Spirit  answerable  to  that  condition  he  was  to  un- 
dertake. He  was  perfect  then  for  that  condition.  Now  he  was  to  be  made 
perfect  for  that  office  he  was  to  set  upon.  He  was  always  perfect.  He 
had  abundance  of  Spirit  for  that  estate  he  was  in,  but  now  he  was  to  enter 
upon  another  condition,  to  preach  the  gospel,  to  be  a  prophet,  and  after  to 
be  a  priest.  Therefore  he  saith  now  especially,  I  wiU  put  my  Spirit  upon 
him. 

Now,  this  putting  of  the  Spirit,  it  is  expressed  in  Isa.  Ixi.  1,  and  other 
places,  by  anointing.  There  were  three  sorts  of  persons  that  were 
anointed  before  Christ,  prophets,  priests,  and  kings.     Now  Christ  was  to  be 


J.6  A  DESCEIPTIOM  OF  CHKIST 

a  prophet,  a  priest,  aud  a  king.  Therefore  he  was  to  be  anointed  with  the 
Spirit,  to  enable  him  to  these  three  ofl&ces. 

I  might  here  take  occasion  to  enlarge  myself  in  the  offices  of  Christ,  but 

mil  only  speak  of  them  as  the  text  ministereth  just  occasion. 

There  are  three  main  defects  m  man  since  the  fall. 

There  is  ignorance  and  blindness. 

There  is  rebellion  in  the  will  and  affections. 

And  in  regard  of  his  condition,  by  reason  of  the  sins  of  nature  and  life, 
a  subjection  to  a  cursed  estate,  to  the  wrath  of  God  and  eternal  damnation. 

Now,  answerable  to  these  three  grand  ills,  whosoever  shall  be  ordained  a 
saviour  must  provide  proportionable  remedies  for  these.  Hereupon  comes 
a  threefold  office  in  Christ,  that  is  ordained  to  save  man,  to  cure  this  three- 
fold mischief  and  malady. 

As  we  are  ignorant  and  blind,  he  is  a  prophet  to  instruct  us,  to  convince 
us  of  the  ill  state  we  are  in,  and  then  to  convince  us  of  the  good  he  intends 
us,  and  hath  wrought  for  us,  to  instruct  us  in  all  things  concerning  our 
everlasting  comfort.  He  is  such  a  prophet  as  teacheth  not  only  the  out- 
ward, but  the  inward  man.  He  openeth  the  heart,  he  teacheth  to  do  the 
things  he  teacheth.  Men  teach  what  we  should  do,  but  they  teach  not  the 
doing  of  them.  He  is  such  a  prophet  as  teacheth  us  the  very  things  ;  he 
teacheth  us  to  love  and  to  obey,  &c. 

And  answerable  to  the  rebellion  and  sinfulness  of  our  dispositions,  he  is 
a  king  to  subdue  whatsoever  is  ill  in  us,  and  likewise  to  subdue  all  opposite 
power  without  us.  By  little  and  little  he  will  trample  all  enemies  under 
his  feet,  and  under  our  feet,  too,  ere  long. 

Now,  as  we  are  cursed  by  reason  of  our  sinful  condition,  so  he  is  a  priest 
to  satisfy  the  wrath  of  God  for  us.  He  was  made  a  curse  for  us.  Gal.  iii. 
13.  He  became  a  servant,  that,  being  so,  he  might  die,  and  undergo  the 
cursed  death  of  the  cross ;  not  only  death,  but  a  cursed  death,  and  so  his 
blood  might  be  an  atonement  as  a  priest.  So,  answerable  to  the  threefold 
ill  in  us,  you  see  here  is  a  threefold  office  in  Christ. 

Now  Christ  performs  these  thi'ee  offices  in  this  order. 

Fu'st  of  all  he  is  a  prophet.  When  he  was  baptized  the  Spirit  was  put 
upon  him,  as  in  Isa.  Ixi.  1,  to  preach  deliverance  to  the  captives.  First, 
he  preached  wherefore  he  came  into  the  world,  why  God  sent  him,  and  dis- 
covered to  the  world  the  state  they  were  ui ;  and  when  he  had  preached 
as  a  prophet,  then  as  a  priest,  he  died,  and  offered  himself  a  sacrifice. 

After  death  his  kingly  office  was  most  apparent.  For  then  he  rose  again 
as  a  triumphant  king  over  death  and  all  our  enemies,  and  ascended  in  his 
triumphant  chariot  to  heaven,  and  there  he  sits  gloriously  as  a  king  in  his 
throne  at  the  right  hand  of  God.  So  that  however  at  his  baptism,  and 
before,  when  he  was  sanctified  in  his  mother's  womb,  he  was  both  king, 
priest,  and  prophet,  yet  in  regard  of  the  order  of  manifestation,  he  mani- 
fested himself  first  to  be  a  prophet,  secondly  a  priest,  and  thirdly  to  be  a  king. 
For  his  kingly  office  brake  forth  but  seldom  in  the  time  of  his  abasement. 
Sometimes  it  did,  to  shew  that  he  was  ruler  and  commander  of  earth  and 
sea,  and  devils,  and  all.  He  wrought  miracles,  but  the  glorious  manifesta- 
tion of  his  kingly  office,  it  was  after  his  resurrrection. 

Now,  the  fundamental,  the  chief  office  to  which  he  was  anointed  by  the 
Spirit,  upon  which  the  rest  depends,  it  was  his  priestly  office  ;  for  where- 
fore was  his  teaching,  but  to  instruct  us  what  he  must  do  and  suffer  for  us, 
and  what  benefit  we  have  by  his  sacrifice — reconciliation  with  God,  and 
freedom  from  the  wrath  of  God,  and  right  unto  life  everlasting,  by  his 


A  DESCRIPTION  OF  CHRIST.  17 

obedience  to  the  cursed  death  of  the  cross  ?  And  how  comes  he  to  be  a 
king  to  rale  over  us  by  his  Holy  Spirit,  and  to  have  a  right  unto  us,  but 
because  as  a  priest  he  died  for  us  first  ?  He  washed  us  with  his  blood,  he 
purged  us  with  his  blood,  and  then  he  made  us  kings  and  priests,  Rev.  i. 
5.  All  other  benefits  came  from  this — he  washed  our  souls  in  his  blood 
first.  Whatsoever  we  have  from  God,  is  especially  from  the  great  work  of 
Christ  as  a  priest  abasing  himself,  and  djdng  for  us  ;  and  thereupon  he 
comes  to  be  a  prophet  and  a  king.  Thus  we  see  the  order  of  Christ's 
offices,  how  they  come  to  be  fruitful  to  us,  the  rest  especially,  by  virtue  of 
his  priestly  office. 

Note  this  by  the  way  :  Christ's  priestly  office,  his  sacrificing  himself  for 
us,  includes  two  branches.  A  priest  was  to  offer  sacrifice  and  to  pray  for 
the  people.  Our  Saviour  Christ  did  both  in  the  days  of  his  humiliation, 
in  his  prayer  in  John  xvii.  There,  as  a  priest,  he  commends  his  sacrifice 
to  God  before  he  died ;  and  now  he  is  in  heaven  making  intercession  for 
us,  to  the  end  of  the  world.  He  appears  for  us  there.  We  see,  then, 
to  what  purpose  God  put  the  Spuit  upon  Christ,  to  enable  him  to  be  a 
prophet,  a  priest,  and  a  king,  and  thereupon  to  take  away  those  mischiefs  and 
evils  that  we  were  subject  and  enthralled  to  ;  so  that  we  have  a  supply  for 
all  that  may  any  way  abase  us  and  cast  us  down,  in  the  all-sufficiency  that 
is  in  Christ  Jesus,  who  was  anointed  with  the  Spirit  for  this  end. 

It  may  be  objected,  Christ  was  God  himself ;  he  had  the  Spirit,  and 
gives  the  Spirit ;  therefore,  how  could  the  Spirit  be  put  vipon  him  ? 

I  answer,  Christ  is  both  God  and  man.  Christ,  as  God,  gives  the  Spirit 
to  his  human  nature  ;  so  he  communicates  his  Spirit.  The  Spirit  is  his 
Spirit  as  weU  as  the  Father's.  The  Spirit  proceeds  from  them  both. 
Christ,  as  man,  receives  the  Spirit.  God  the  Father  and  the  Son  put  the 
Spirit  upon  the  manhood  of  Christ ;  so  Christ  both  gives  and  receives  the 
Spirit  in  diverse  respects.  As  God,  he  gives  and  sends  the  Spirit.  The 
spiration  and  breathing  of  the  Spu-it  is  from  him  as  well  as  from  the 
Father,  but  as  man  he  received  the  Spirit. 

And  this  is  the  reason  of  it :  next  under  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy 
Ghost,  Christ  the  Mediator,  was  to  be  the  spiing  and  original  of  aU  comfort 
and  good.  Therefore,  Chi-ist's  nature  must  not  only  be  sanctified  and 
ordained  by  the  Spirit ;  but  he  must  receive  the  Spirit  to  enrich  it,  for 
whatsoever  is  wrought  in  the  creatm-e  is  by  the  Spirit.  Whatsoever  Christ 
did  as  man,  he  did  by  the  Spirit.  Christ's  human  nature,  therefore,  must 
be  sanctified,  and  have  the  Spirit  put  upon  it.  God  the  Father,  the  first 
person  in  Trinity,  and  God  the  Son,  the  second,  they  work  not  immediately, 
but  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  the  thkd  person.  Therefore,  whatsoever  is 
wrought  upon  the  creature,  it  comes  from  the  Holy  Ghost  immediately. 
So  Christ  received  the  Holy  Ghost  as  sent  from  the  Father  and  the  Son. 
Now  as  the  Holy  Spnit  is  fi-om  the  Father  and  the  Son,  so  he  works  fi-om  the 
Father  and  the  Son.  He  sanctifieth  and  purifieth,  and  doth  all  from  the 
Father  and  the  Son,  and  knits  us  to  the  Father  and  the  Son  ;  to  the  Son 
fii'st,  and  then  to  the  Father.  Therefore  it  is  said,  '  The  grace  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  the  love  of  God  the  Father,  and  the  communion  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,'  2  Cor.  xiii.  14  ;  because  all  the  communion  we  have  with 
God  is  by  the  Holy  Ghost.  All  the  communion  that  Chiist  as  man  had 
with  God  was  by  the  Holy  Ghost ;  and  all  the  communion  that  God  hath 
with  us,  and  we  with  God,  is  by  the  Holy  Ghost :  for  the  Spirit  is  the 
bond  of  union  between  Christ  and  us,  and  between  God  and  us.  God 
communicates  himself  to  us  by  his  Spirit,  and  we  communicate  with  God 

VOL.  I.  iJ 


18  A.  DESCRIPTION  OF  CHEIST. 

by  his  Spirit.  God  doth  all  in  us  by  his  Spirit,  and  we  do  all  back  again 
to  God  by  the  Spirit.  Because  Christ,  as  a  head,  as  the  second  Adam 
was  to  be  the  root  of  all  that  are  saved,  as  the  first  Adam  was  the  root  of 
all  that  are  damned,  he  was  therefore  to  receive  the  Spirit,  and  to  have  it 
put  upon  him  in  a  more  excellent  and  rich  manner  :  for  we  must  kno^w 
that  all  things  are  first  in  Christ,  and  then  in  us. 

God  chose  him  first,  and  then  he  chose  us.  God  singled  him  out  to  be 
the  Saviour,  the  second  Adam,  and  he  calls  us  in  Christ. 

God  justified  Christ  from  our  sins,  being  our  surety,  taking  our  sins 
upon  him.  We  are  justified,  because  he  by  his  resurrection  quit  himself 
from  the  guilt  of  our  sins,  as  having  paid  the  debt. 

Christ  is  the  first  fruits  of  them  that  rise  again,  1  Cor.  xv.  20.  We  rise 
again  because  he  is  risen.  Christ  first  ascended  ;  we  ascend  in  Christ. 
Christ  is  first  loved  ;  we  are  loved  in  the  Beloved.  Christ  is  first  blessed ; 
we  are  blessed  with  all  spiritual  blessings  in  Jesus  Christ,  Eph.  i.  3.  So, 
whatsoever  is  in  us,  we  have  it  at  the  second  hand.  We  have  the  Spirit 
in  us,  but  he  is  first  in  Christ ;  God  hath  put  the  Spirit  in  Christ,  as  the 
spring,  as  the  second  Adam,  as  a  public  person,  that  should  receive  the 
Spirit  for  us  all.  He  is  first  in  aU  things  ;  Christ  must  have  the  pre- 
eminence. He  hath  the  pre-eminence  in  all,  both  before  time,  in  time,  and 
after  time,  in  election,  in  whatsoever  is  done  here  in  this  world,  and  in 
glorification.  All  is  first  in  Christ,  and  then  in  us.  He  is  the  elder 
brother. 

We  must  understand  this,  to  give  Christ  his  due  honour  and  respect,  and 
to  know  whence  we  have  all  we  have.  Therefore  the  Spirit  is  said  here, 
first,  to  be  '  put  upon  Christ.'  We  have  not  the  Holy  Ghost  immediately 
from  God,  but  we  have  him  as  sanctifjdng  Christ  fii'st,  and  then  us ;  and 
whatsoever  the  Holy  Ghost  doth  in  us,  he  doth  the  same  in  Christ  first, 
and  he  doth  it  in  us  because  in  Christ.  Therefore,  in  John  xvi.  14,  15, 
Christ  saith,  He  shall  take  of  mine.  Whatsoever  the  Holy  Ghost  works  in 
us,  he  takes  of  Christ  first.     How  is  that  ? 

Thus  :  the  Holy  Ghost  comforts  us  with  reasons  from  Christ.  He  died, 
and  hath  reconciled  us  to  God  ;  therefore,  now  God  is  at  peace  with  thee. 
Here  the  Holy  Ghost  takes  a  ground  of  comfort  from  the  death  of  Christ. 
When  the  Holy  Ghost  would  raise  a  man  up  to  holiness  of  life,  he  tells 
him,  Christ  thy  Saviour  and  head  is  quickened,  and  is  now  in  heaven, 
therefore  we  ought  to  rise  to  holiness  of  life.  If  the  Holy  Ghost  be  to 
work  either  comfort  or  grace,  or  anything,  he  not  only  doth  the  same  thing 
that  he  did  first  in  Christ,  but  he  doth  it  in  us  by  reasons  from  Christ,  by 
grounds  fetched  from  Christ.  The  Holy  Ghost  tells  our  souls  that  God 
loves  Christ  first,  and  he  loves  us  in  Christ,  and  that  we  are  those  that 
God  gave  Christ  for,  that  we  are  those  that  Christ  makes  intercession  for 
in  heaven.  The  Holy  Ghost  witnesseth  to  us  the  love  of  the  Father  and 
the  Son,  and  so  he  fetcheth  from  Christ  whatsoever  he  works. 

And  hence  the  work  of  the  Holy  Ghost  is  distinguished  from  illusions 
and  delusions,  that  are  nothing  but  frantic  conceits  of  comfort  that  are 
groundless.  The  Holy  Ghost  fetcheth  all  from  Christ  in  his  working  and 
comfort,  and  he  makes  Christ  the  pattern  of  all ;  for  whatsoever  is  in 
Christ,  the  Holy  Ghost,  which  is  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  works  in  us  as  it  is 
in  Christ.  Therefore,  in  John  i.  13,  it  is  said,  '  of  his  fulness  we  receive 
grace  for  gi-ace  ' — that  is,  grace  answerable  to  his  grace.  There  are  three 
things  that  we  receive  answerable  to  Christ  by  the  Spirit. 

We  receive  grace — that  is,  the  favour  of  God  answerable  to  the  favour 


A  DESOKIPTION  OP  CHRIST.  19 

God  shews  his  Son.  He  loves  his  Son,  he  is  graciously  disposed  to  him, 
and  he  loves  us. 

So  gi-ace  habitual.  We  have  grace  in  us  answerable  to  the  grace  in 
Christ.  We  have  love  answerable  to  his  love,  patience  answerable  to  his 
patience,  obedience  and  humility  answerable  to  that  in  Christ.  The  Spirit 
works  a  conformity  to  Christ  in  all  things. 

Likewise,  in  the  thhd  place,  the  Spirit  assures  us  of  the  same  privileges 
that  issue  from  grace.  Christ  is  a  Son  ;  the  Spirit  tells  us  we  are  sons. 
Christ  is  an  heir  ;  the  Spirit  tells  us  we  are  heirs  with  Christ.  Christ  is 
the  king  of  heaven  and  earth  ;  the  Spu'it  iells  us  that  we  are  kings,  that 
his  riches  are  ours.  Thus  we  have  '  grace  for  grace,'  both  favour  and  grace 
in  us,  and  privileges  issuing  fr-om  grace,  we  have  all  as  they  are  in  Christ. 
Even  as  in  the  first  Adam  we  receive  of  his  emptiness,  curse  for  curse,  ill 
for  iU  ;  for  his  blindness  and  rebellion  we  are  answerable  ;  we  are  bom  as 
he  was  after  his  fall :  so  in  the  second  Adam,  by  his  Spirit,  we  receive 
grace  for  grace. 

Hence  issues  this,  that  our  state  now  in  Christ  is  far  more  excellent  than 
our  state  in  Adam  was. 

How  doth  it  spring  hence  ? 

Thus,  Christ  is  God-man.  His  nature  was  sanctified  by  the  Spirit ;  he 
was  a  more  excellent  person,  he  gives  and  sends  the  Spirit.  Adam  was 
only  a  mere  man,  and  therefore  his  goodness  could  not  be  so  derived  to  his 
posterity  ;  for,  however  the  Holy  Ghost  was  in  Adam,  yet  the  Holy  Ghost 
did  not  so  fill  him,  he  was  not  so  in  him  as  in  Christ.  The  Holy  Ghost  is 
in  Christ  in  a  more  excellent  manner  ;  for  Christ  being  equal  with  God,  he 
gave  the  Holy  Ghost ;  the  Holy  Ghost  comes  from  Christ  as  God.  Now 
the  second  Adam  being  a  more  excellent  person,  we  being  in  Christ  the 
second  Adam,  we  are  in  a  more  excellent,  and  in  a  more  safe  estate  ;  we 
have  a  better  keeper  of  our  happiness  than  Adam.  He  being  a  mere  man, 
he  could  not  keep  his  own  happiness,  but  lost  himself  and  all  his  posterity. 
Though  he  were  created  after  the  image  of  God,  yet  being  but  a  mere  man, 
he  shewed  himself  to  be  a  man — that  is,  a  changeable  creature  ;  but  Christ 
being  God  and  man,  having  his  nature  sanctified  by  the  Spirit,  now  our 
happiness  is  in  a  better  keeping,  for  our  grace  hath  a  better  spring.  The 
grace  and  sanctification  we  have,  it  is  not  in  our  own  keeping,  it  distils 
into  us  answerable  to  our  necessities  ;  but  the  spring  is  indeficient,  it  never 
fails,  the  spring  is  in  Christ.  So  the  favour  that  God  bears  us,  it  is  not 
first  in  us,  but  it  is  first  in  Christ ;  God  loves  him,  and  then  he  loves  us  ; 
he  gives  him  the  Spirit,  and  us  in  him.  Now,  Christ  is  the  keeper  both  of 
the  love  of  God  towards  us  and  the  grace  of  God  ;  and  whatsoever  is  good 
he  keeps  all  for  us,  he  receives  all  for  himself  and  for  us  ;  he  receives  not 
only  the  Spirit  for  himself,  but  he  receives  it  as  Mediator,  as  head :  for  '  we 
all  of  his  fulness  receive  grace  for  grace.'  He  receives  it  as  a  fountain  to 
difiuse  it,  I  say.  This  shews  us  our  happy  and  blessed  condition  in  Jesus 
Christ,  that  now  the  grace  and  love  of  God  and  our  happiness,  and  the 
grace  whereby  we  are  sanctified  and  fitted  for  it,  it  is  not  in  our  own 
keeping  originally,  but  in  our  head  Christ  Jesus. 

These  be  comfortable  considerations,  and,  indeed,  the  life  and  soul  of  a 
Christian's  life  and  comfort.  If  we  conceive  them  aright,  they  will  quicken 
us  to  obedience,  and  we  shall  know  what  the  gospel  is.  To  come  to  make 
some  use  of  it. 

I  might  observe  this,  that  none  should  take  that  ofiice  upon  them  to 
which  they  are  not  called  of  God,  nor  qualified  by  his  Spirit,  especially 


20  A  DESCEIPTION  OF  CHRIST. 

ministers,  because  Christ  did  not  set  upon  his  office,  till  the  Spirit  was  put 
upon  liim.  The  Spirit  must  enable  us  and  fit  us  for  everything.  But  T 
leave  that,  and  come  to  that  which  concerns  us  all. 

First,  then,  hath  God  put  the  Spirit  upon  Christ,  as  the  evangelist  saith 
in  John  iii.  34,  *  He  whom  God  hath  sent' — that  is  Christ — '  he  speaketh  the 
word  of  God  :  for  God  gives  him  not  the  Spirit  by  measure.'  God  doth 
not  stand  measuring  grace  out  to  Christ,  but  he  pours  it  out  upon  him,  full 
measure,  running  over,  because  he  receives  it  not  for  himself  alone,  but  for 
us.  We  receive  the  Spirit  by  measure,  Eph.  iv.  7,  '  according  to  the 
measure  of  the  gift  of  Christ.'  Christ  gives  us  all  a  measure  of  sanctifying 
knowledge  and  of  every  grace,  till  we  '  grow  to  be  a  perfect  man  in  Christ,' 
Eph.  iv.  13.  Therefore  it  is  called  the  '  first  fruits  of  the  Spirit,'  Rom. 
viii.  23,  as  much  as  shall  fit  us  for  heaven,  and  grace  sufficient,  though 
it  be  not  that  measure  we  shall  have  hereafter,  or  that  we  would  have  here. 
Christ  had  a  full  measure,  the  fulness  of  a  fountain,  diffusive,  not  only 
abundance  for  himself,  but  redundance,  and  overflowing  for  the  good  of 
others  ;  he  being  the  head  of  the  church,  not  only  a  head  of  eminence, 
but  of  influence  to  bestow  and  convey  all  grace  in  him  to  all  his  members, 
proportionable  to  the  service  of  every  member.  Therefore  he  received  not 
the  Spirit  according  to  measure — that  is,  sparingly — but  it  was  showered 
upon  him  ;  he  was  filled  and  clothed  with  the  Holy  Ghost.     Is  it  so  ? 

Let  us  labour,  then,  to  see  where  to  have  supply  in  all  our  wants.  We 
have  a  full  treasury  to  go  to.  All  treasure  is  hid  in  Christ  for  us.  What 
a  comfort  is  this  in  anything  we  want !  If  we  want  the  favour  of  God,  go 
to  his  beloved  Christ,  desire  God  to  love  us  in  his  beloved,  and  to  accept 
us  in  his  gi-acious  Son,  in  him  whom  he  hath  made  his  servant,  and 
anointed  with  his  Spmt  for  that  pui-pose. 

If  we  want  particular  graces,  go  to  the  well-head  Christ,  consider  of 
Christ  now  filled  for  us,  as  it  was  in  Aaron.  The  oil  that  was  poured  on 
Aaron's  head  ran  down  to  his  beard,  and  to  the  skirts  of  his  clothing,  Ps. 
cxxxiii.  2,  the  meanest  parts  of  his  garment  were  bedewed  with  that  oil :  so 
the  graces  of  God's  Spirit  poured  upon  our  head  Christ,  our  Aaron,  our 
High  Priest,  run  down  upon  us,  upon  all  ranks  of  Christians,  even  upon 
the  skirts,  the  weakest  and  lowest  Christians.  Every  one  hath  grace  for 
grace  ;  we  all  partake  of  the  oil  and  anointing  of  our  spiritual  Aaron,  our 
High  Priest.  If  we  want  anything,  therefore,  let  us  go  to  him.  I  can  do 
all,  saith  St  Paul,  in  Christ  that  strengtheneth  me,  Philip,  iv.  13.  Go  to 
him  for  patience,  for  comfort,  for  everything,  because  God  hath  put  his 
Spirit  upon  him,  to  supply  aU  our  wants  ;  he  hath  the  oil  of  gladness  above 
his  feUows,  Ps.  xlv.  7  ;  but  for  his  fellows  he  hath  the  oil  of  grace  more 
than  any,  but  it  is  not  only  for  him,  but  for  us  all.  Therefore,  let  us  have 
comfortable  meditations  of  the  fulness  of  Christ,  and  make  use  of  it,  all 
this  is  for  me.  In  Col.  ii.  9,  St  Paul  sets  it  out,  '  in  him  the  fulness  of  the 
Godhead  dwells  personally  ;'  for  that  is  meant  by  Gu//.ariKws,  and  it 
follows  after,  '  in  him  we  are  complete.'  Wherefore  is  all  the  fiilness  that 
is  in  him  ?  to  shew  that  in  him  we  are  complete.  So,  in  1  John  v.  20,  21, 
to  shew  how  the  spirits  of  the  apostles  agree,  in  this  saith  he,  '  we  know 
that  the  Son  of  God  is  come  in  the  flesh,  and  hath  given  us  an  under- 
standing to  know  him  that  is  true,  and  we  are  in  him  that  is  true,  even  in 
his  Son  Jesus  Christ.  This  is  true  God  and  eternal  hfe.'  Christ  is  true 
God  and  eternal  life  for  us  all ;  for  our  comfort,  *  we  know  that  the  Son  of 
God  is  come,  and  hath  given  us  an  understanding,  &c.  Little  childi-en, 
Keep  yourselves  from  idols. '    How  doth  this  depend  upon  the  other  ?    Thus ; 


I 


A  DESCRIPTION  OF  CHRIST.  '  21 

wiU  you  go  to  idols,  stocks  and  stones,  devices  of  men's  brain,  for  supply 
of  grace  and  comfort  ?  Christ,  whom  God  hath  sent,  he  is  come  into  the 
world  ;  he  is  God  and  eternal  life.  '  God  hath  given  eternal  life,  and  this 
life  is  in  his  Son,'  1  John  v.  11  ;  therefore,  why  should  you  go  to  idols  ? 

WTiat  is  the  ground  of  popish  idolatries  and  abominations  ?  They  con- 
ceive not  aright  of  the  fulness  of  Christ,  wherefore  he  was  ordained,  and 
sent  of  God ;  for  if  they  did,  they  would  not  go  to  idols  and  saints,  and 
leave  Christ.  Therefore  let  us  make  this  use  of  it,  go  out  of  Christ  for 
nothing.  If  we  want  favour,  go  not  to  saints,  if  we  want  instruction,  go  not 
to  traditions  of  men.  He  is  a  prophet  wise  enough,  and  a  priest  fall  enough 
to  make  us  accepted  of  God.  If  we  want  any  grace,  he  is  a  king  able 
enough,  rich  enough,  and  strong  enough  to  subdue  aU  our  rebellions  in  us, 
and  he  wiU  in  time  by  his  Spirit  overcome  all,  '  Stronger  is  he  that  is  in 
us  than  he  that  is  in  the  world,'  1  John  iv.  4.  The  spirit  in  the  world, 
the  devil  and  devilish-minded  men,  they  are  not  so  strong  as  the  Spirit  ol 
Christ ;  for  by  little  and  httle  the  Spirit  of  Christ  will  subdue  all.  Christ 
is  a  king,  go  not  out  of  him  therefore  for  anything.  '  Babes,  keep  your- 
selves from  idols,'  1  John  v.  21.  You  may  well  enough,  you  know  whom 
to  go  to. 

Therefore  let  us  shame  ourselves.  Is  there  such  a  store-house  of  com- 
fort and  grace  every  way  in  Christ  ?  Why  are  we  so  weak  and  comfortless  ? 
Why  are  we  so  dejected  as  if  we  had  not  such  a  rich  husband  ?  All  our 
husband's  riches  are  oui's  for  our  good,  we  receive  of  it  in  our  measure, 
why  do  we  not  go  to  the  fountain  and  make  use  of  it  ?  Why,  in  the  midst 
of  abundance,  are  we  poor  and  beggarly  ?  Here  we  may  see  the  misery  of 
the  world.  Christ  is  a  prophet  to  teach  us  the  way  to  heaven,  but  how  few 
be  there  that  will  be  directed  by  him  !  Cbrist  is  a  king  to  subdue  all  our 
spiritual  and  worst  enemies,  to  subdue  those  enemies  that  kings  tremble 
at,  to  subdue  death,  to  subdue  the  fear  of  judgment  and  the  wrath  of  God, 
and  yet  how  few  will  come  under  his  government !  '  Christ  is  the  light  of 
the  world,'  John  ix.  5,  jet  how  few  follow  him!  Christ  is  the  way,  yet 
how  few  tread  in  his  steps  !  Christ  is  our  wisdom  and  our  riches,  yet  how 
few  go  to  him  to  fetch  any  riches,  but  content  themselves  with  the  transi- 
tory things  of  this  life  !  Men  live  as  if  Christ  were  nothing,  or  did  nothing 
concern  them,  as  if  he  were  a  person  abstracted  from  them,  as  if  he 
were  not  a  head  or  husband,  as  if  he  had  received  the  Spirit  only  for  him- 
self and  not  for  them,  whereas  aU  that  is  in  Christ  is  for  us.  I  beseech 
you  therefore  let  us  learn  to  know  Christ  better,  and  to  make  use  of  him. 

Again,  if  Christ  hath  '  the  Spirit  put  upon  him  for  us  all,'  then  in  our 
daily  shps  and  errors  make  this  use,  to  offer  Christ  to  God  with  this  argu- 
ment. Take  an  argument  from  God  himself  to  bind  him.  God  will  be 
bound  with  his  own  arguments.  We  cannot  bind  him  with  ours,  but  let 
us  go  to  him  and  say.  Lord,  though  I  be  thus  and  thus  sinful,  yet  for  Christ 
Jesus'  sake  thy  servant,  whom  thou  lovest  and  hast  put  thy  Spirit  upon 
him  to  be  a  priest,  and  to  make  intercession  for  me,  for  his  sake  pardon, 
for  his  sake  accept.  Make  use  of  God's  consecration  of  Christ  by  the  Spirit 
to  God  himself,  and  bind  him  with  his  own  mediator,  and  with  his  own 
priest  of  his  own  ordaining.  Thou  canst  not.  Lord,  refuse  a  Saviour  and 
mediator  of  thine  own,  sanctified  by  thine  own  Spirit,  whom  thou  hast  set 
apart,  and  ordained  and  qualified  every  way  for  this  purpose.  Let  us  go 
to  God  in  the  name  of  this  mediator  Jesus  Christ  every  day,  and  this  is  to 
make  a  good  use  of  this,  that  God  hath  '  put  his  Spirit  upon  him.' 

But  to  make  a  use  of  trial,  how  shall  we  know  that  this  comfort  belongs 


22  A  DESCRIPTION  OF  CHRIST. 

to  US,  that  Christ  hath  the  Spirit  put  upon  him  for  us  or  no,  whether  he  be 
ordained  a  king,  priest,  and  prophet  for  us  ?  That  which  I  said  before  wiE 
give  light  to  this.  We  must  partake  of  the  same  Spirit  that  Christ  hath, 
or  else  we  are  none  of  his  members.  As  we  partake  of  his  name,  so  we 
must  also  of  his  anointing.  Thereupon  we  are  called  Christians,  because 
we  partake  of  the  anointing  and  Spirit  of  Christ,  and  if  we  have  the  Spirit 
of  Christ,  it  will  work  the  same  in  us  as  it  did  in  Christ,  it  will  convince  us 
of  our  own  ill,  of  our  rebellions,  and  cursed  estate,  and  it  will  convince  us 
likewise  of  the  good  we  have  in  him.  And  then,  he  is  a  Spirit  of  union,  to 
knit  us  to  Christ,  and  make  us  one  with  him,  and  thereupon  to  quicken  us, 
to  lead  us,  and  guide  us,  and  to  dwell  in  us  continually,  to  stir  up  prayers 
and  supplications  in  us,  to  make  us  cry  familiarly  to  God  as  to  a  Father, 
to  comfort  and  support  us  in  all  our  wants  and  miseries,  as  he  did  Christ, 
'  to  help  our  infirmities,'  as  the  apostle  at  large,  in  Rom.  viii.  20,  sets  down 
the  excellent  oifice  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  what  he  doth  in  those  that  are 
Christ's.  Let  us  therefore  examine  ourselves,  what  the  Spirit  doth  in  us, 
if  Christ  be  set  apart  to  redeem  us  as  a  priest.  Surely  all  his*  offices  go 
together.  He  doth  by  the  same  Spirit  rule  us,  Rev.  i.  5,  '  He  hath  washed 
us  in  his  blood,  and  made  us  kings  and  priests.'  Whosoever  he  washeth 
in  his  blood  he  maketh  him  a  king  and  a  priest,  he  makes  him  by  the 
power  of  his  Spirit  able  to  rule  over  his  base  corruptions.  We  may  know 
then,  whether  we  have  benefit  by  Christ  by  his  Spirit,  not  only  by  the  Spirit 
witnessing  that  we  are  the  sons  of  God,  but  by  some  arguments  whereby 
the  Spirit  may  witness  without  delusion.  For  though  the  Spirit  of  Christ 
tells  us  that  we  are  Christ's,  yet  the  proof  must  be  from  guiding  and  lead- 
ing, and  comforting  and  conforming  us  to  Jesus  Christ,  in  making  us  kings 
and  prophets,  enlightening  our  understandings  to  know  his  will,  and  con- 
forming us  to  be  Hke  him.  The  Spirit  of  Christ  is  a  Spirit  of  power  and 
strength.  It  will  enable  us  to  perform  duties  above  natm-e,  to  overcome 
ourselves  and  injuries,  it  wiU  make  us  to  want  and  to  abound,  it  will  make 
us  able  to  Uve  and  to  die,  as  it  enabled  Christ  to  do  things  that  another 
man  could  not  do.  So  a  Christian  can  do  that,  and  sufier  that  that  another 
man  cannot  do  and  sufier,  because  he  hath  the  Spirit  of  Christ. 

At  the  least,  whosoever  hath  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  he  shall  find  that  Spirit 
in  him  striving  against  that  which  is  contrary,  and  by  little  and  little  getting 
ground.  Where  there  is  no  conflict,  there  is  no  Spirit  of  Christ  at  all.  I 
will  not  be  large  in  the  point,  only  I  speak  this  by  way  of  trial,  to  know 
whether  we  have  the  Spirit  of  Christ  in  us  or  no.  If  not,  we  have  nothing 
to  do  with  Chi-ist ;  for  Christ  saves  us  not  as  he  is  out  of  us  only.  Chi'ist 
was  to  do  something  of  himself  that  we  have  no  share  in,  only  the  good  of 
it  is  ours.  He  was  to  redeem  us  by  his  blood,  to  be  a  sacrifice.  The  title 
to  heaven  and  salvation  was  wrought  by  Christ  out  of  us.  But  there  is 
somewhat  that  he  doth  not  only  for  us,  but  he  works  in  us  by  his  Spirit, 
that  is,  the  fitting  of  us  for  that  he  hath  given  us  title  to,  and  the  applying 
of  that  that  he  hath  done  for  us.  Whosoever  therefore  hath  any  benefit  by 
Christ,  he  hath  the  Spirit  to  apply  that  to  himself  and  to  fit  and  qualify 
him  to  be  a  member  of  such  a  head,  and  an  heir  of  such  a  kingdom. 
Whosoever  Christ  works  anything  for,  he  doth  also  work  in  them.  There 
is  a  Spu-it  of  appHcation,  and  that  Spirit  of  application,  if  it  be  true,  it  is  a 
Spu-it  of  sanctification  and  renovation  fitting  us  every  way  for  our  condition. 

Let  us  not  abuse  ourselves,  as  the  world  commonly  doth,  concerning 
Christ.  They  think  God  is  merciful,  and  Christ  is  a  Saviour.  It  is  true,  but 
what  hath  he  wrought  in  thee  by  his  Spirit  ?  hast  thou  the  Spirit  of  Christ  ? 


A  DESCRIPTION  OF  CHEIST.  25 

or  '  else  thou  art  none  of  his,'  Rom,  viii.  9.  Wherever  Christ  is,  he  goes 
with  his  Spirit  to  teach  us  to  apply  what  Christ  hath  done  for  us,  and  to 
fit  us  to  be  like  him.  Therefore,  let  those  that  live  in  any  sins  against  con- 
science, think  it  a  diabohcal  illusion  to  think  God  and  Christ  is  merciful. 
Aye,  but  where  is  the  work  of  the  Spii'it  ?  All  the  hope  thou  hast  is  only  that 
thou  art  not  in  heU  as  yet,  [only]  for  the  time  to  come  ;  but  for  the  present 
I  dare  not  say  thou  hast  anything  to  do  with  Chiist,  when  there  is  nothing 
of  the  Spirit  in  thee.  The  Spirit  of  Christ  conforms  the  spouse  to  be  like 
the  husband,  and  the  members  to  be  like  the  head.  Therefore,  beg  ol 
Christ  that  he  would  anoint  himself  king  in  our  hearts,  and  prophet  and 
priest  in  our  hearts,  to  do  that  that  he  did,  to  know  his  will  as  a  prophet,  to 
rule  in  us  as  a  king,  and  to  stir  up  prayers  in  us  as  a  priest,  to  do  in  some 
proportion  that  that  he  doth,  though  it  be  in  never  so  little  a  measure,  for  we 
receive  it  in  measm-e,  but  Christ  beyond  measure.  We  must  labour  for 
so  much  as  may  manifest  to  us  the  truth  of  our  estate  in  Christ,  that  we 
are  not  dead  but  living  branches. 

Now  Christ  gives  and  conveys  his  Spirit  especially,  and  most  of  all  since 
his  ascension  and  sitting  at  the  right  hand  of  God,  for  after  his  resurrec- 
tion he  declared  his  victory  over  all  his  enemies,  and  therefore  was  able  to 
give  the  Spirit  without  opposition,  and  upon  his  resurrection,  death  and 
hell  and  the  anger  of  God  were  overcome,  and  our  sins  were  satisfied  for. 
Now  Christ  was  head  indeed,  having  trod  all  his  enemies  under  his  feet ; 
now  he  was  enabled  to  give  the  Spirit.  But  upon  his  ascension  into 
heaven,  and  his  sitting  there,  he  was  more  enabled.  For  even  as  the  sun 
being  so  high  above  the  earth,  doth  convey  his  light  and  heat  and  influence 
upon  the  inferior  bodies,  so  Christ  being  so  highly  advanced,  is  fitter  to 
infuse  his  Spirit  and  grace  here  below  since  his  exaltation.  Therefore,  the 
chm'ch  is  fuller  of  gi-ace,  and  grace  hath  been  more  spread  and  difiused 
since  the  ascension  of  Christ  than  before,  and  the  evangelist  gives  it  as  a 
reason,  *  The  Spirit  was  not  yet  given,  because  Christ  was  not  ascended,' 
John  vii.  39  ;  intimating  that,  after  his  ascension,  there  was  a  more  full 
portion  of  the  Spirit  given,  God  being  fully  appeased  by  the  death  of  Christ, 
and  Christ  staying  the  advantage  that  was  fittest  to  give  the  Spirit.  Now 
God  the  Father  gives  the  Spirit  with  the  Son,  so  in  both  regards  there  was 
a  greater  fulness  of  the  Spirit.  Therefore,  the  prophets  speaking  of  the 
times  of  Christ,  especially  of  his  exaltation,  shew  that  then  they  should  be 
filled  with  the  Spirit,  that  the  Spirit  should  be  poured  upon  all  flesh  more 
abundantly  than  before.  And  that  is  the  reason  that  the  apostles  so 
differed  from  themselves,  before  and  after  Christ's  ascension.  What  a 
wondrous  alteration  was  there !  Peter  before,  he  flies  even  at  the  voice  oi 
a  maid,  and  they  were  full  of  contention  and  vainglory  :  but  after  we  see, 
when  the  Spirit,  the  Holy  Ghost,  came  down  after  Christ's  ascension  into 
heaven,  how  courageous  and  valorous  they  were,  that  they  accounted  it  a 
matter  of  glory  to  sufier  anything ;  and,  indeed,  we  have  more  or  less 
valour  and  courage,  the  more  or  less  Spirit  we  have.  Now  they  having 
received  more  abundance  of  Spirit,  hereupon  they  were  more  coui'ageous 
and  undaunted  at  one  time  than  another.  And  this  abundance  of  the 
Spirit  comes  especially  since  Christ's  advancement. 

But  how  or  by  what  means  doth  Christ  give  his  Spirit  to  us  ?  This 
Spirit  that  is  so  necessary  for  us,  it  is  given  by  the  ministry  of  the  gospel, 
which  is  the  ministry  of  the  Spirit.  '  Received  ye  the  Holy  Ghost  by  the 
works  of  the  law,  or  by  the  hearing  of  faith  preached  ?'  Gal.  iii.  2.  When 
the  love  of  God  in  Christ,  and  the  benefits  by  Cha-ist,  are  laid  open  in  the 


24  A  DESCRIPTION  OF  CHRIST. 

preacliing  of  the  gospel  to  us,  God  gives  his  holy  Spirit,  the  Spirit  of  Christ. 
Now  God  in  Christ  would  save  us  by  a  triumphant  and  abundant  love  and 
mercy,  and  the  Spirit  of  God  never  goes  but  where  there  is  a  magnifying 
of  the  love  and  mercy  of  God  in  Christ ;  therefore  the  ministry  of  the  gos- 
pel, which  only  discovers  the  amity  and  love  of  God  to  mankind,  being  now 
reconciled  in  Christ,  it  is  accompanied  with  the  Spirit,  to  assure  us  of  our 
part  and  portion  in  those  benefits,  for  the  Spirit  is  the  fruit  of  God's  love 
as  well  as  Christ.  Christ  is  the  fii'st  gift,  and  the  Spirit  is  the  second, 
therefore  that  part  of  the  word  that  discovers  God's  exceeding  love  to  man- 
kind, leaving  angels  when  they  were  fallen,  in  their  cursed  estate,  and  yet 
giving  his  Son  to  become  man,  and  '  a  curse  for  us  :'  the  discovery  of  this 
love  and  mercy  of  God,  and  of  his  Son  Christ  to  us,  is  joined  with  the 
Spirit.  For  by  the  Spirit  we  see  our  cursed  estate  without  the  love  and 
mercy  of  God  in  Christ,  and  likewise  we  are  convinced  of  the  love  of  God 
in  Christ,  and  thereupon  we  love  God  again,  and  trust  to  his  mercy,  and 
out  of  love  to  him  perform  all  cheerful  obedience.  Whatsoever  we  do  else, 
if  it  be  not  stirred  by  the  Spirit,  apprehending  the  love  of  God  in  Christ,  it 
is  but  morahty.  A  man  shall  never  go  to  heaven  but  by  such  a  disposition 
and  frame  and  temper  of  soul  as  is  wrought  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  persuading 
the  soul  first  of  the  love  and  favour  of  God  in  Christ.  What  are  all  our 
performances  if  they  be  not  out  of  love  to  God  ?  and  how  shall  we  love 
God  except  we  be  persuaded  that  he  loves  us  first  ?  Therefore  the  gospel 
breeds  love  in  us  to  God,  and  hath  the  Spirit  together  with  it,  working  a 
blessed  frame  of  sanctification,  whereby  we  are  disposed  to  every  good  duty. 
Therefore  if  we  would  have  the  Spirit  of  God,  let  us  attend  upon  the  sweet 
promises  of  salvation,  upon  the  doctrine  of  Christ ;  for  together  with  the 
knowledge  of  these  things,  the  Holy  Ghost  slides  and  insinuates  andinfaseth 
himself  into  our  souls. 

Therefore  the  ministers  of  the  gospel  should  be  much  in  laying  open  thf 
riches  of  God  in  Christ.  In  unfolding  Christ,  all  other  things  will  follow,  as 
St  Paul  in  Titus  ii.  11,  12,  '  The  grace  of  God  hath  shined,  hath  appeared 
gloriously,  teaching  us  to  deny  all  ungodliness  and  worldly  lusts,  and  to 
live  holily  and  soberly  in  this  present  world.'  Where  the  grace  and  love 
of  God  is  persuaded  and  shed  into  the  soul,  all  will  follow. 

What  is  the  reason  that  former  times  were  called  dark  times  (and  so  they 
were),  the  times  of  popery  a  dark  age  ?  Christ  was  veiled,  the  gospel  was 
veiled,  there  was  no  preaching  of  salvation  by  Christ  alone,  people  were 
sent  to  stocks  and  stones,  and  to  saints,  and  instead  of  the  word,  they  were 
sent  to  legends  and  such  things.  Christ  was  obscured,  thereupon  they  were 
dark  ages.  Those  ages  wherein  the  Spirit  of  God  is  most,  is  where  Christ 
is  most  preached,  and  people  are  best  always  where  there  is  most  Spirit ; 
and  they  are  most  joyful  and  comfortable  and  holy,  where  Christ  is  truly 
laid  open  to  the  hearts  of  people.  The  preaching  of  mere  morality,  if  men 
be  not  careful  to  open  Christ,  to  know  how  salvation  is  wrought  by  Christ, 
and  how  all  good  comes  by  Christ,  it  will  never  make  a  man  perfectly 
good  and  fit  him  for  heaven.  It  may  make  a  man  reform  many  abuses, 
like  a  philosopher,  which  hath  its  reward  and  respect  amongst  men,  but 
nothing  to  give  comfort  at  the  hour  of  death  and  the  day  of  judgment. 
Only  that  whereby  the  Spirit  is  conveyed,  is  the  knowledge  and  preaching 
of  Christ  in  his  state  and  offices. 

Again,  the  Spirit  of  Christ  is  given  in  obedience  to  this  gospel.  Acts  v.  32. 
He  gives  the  Holy  Ghost  to  them  that  obey  him.  Now,  there  is  the  obe- 
dience of  faith,  and  the  obedience  of  Ufe.     When  the  soul  is  wrought  to 


A  DESCRIPTION  OF  CHRIST.  25 

obedience,  to  believe,  and  to  be  directed  by  God,  then  the  Holy  Spirit  is 
given  in  a  farther  measure  still.  The  Holy  Ghost  is  given  to  them  that 
obey,  to  them  that  do  not  resist  the  Spirit  of  God.  For  in  the  ministry  of 
the  gospel  the  Spii'it  is  given  in  some  degree  to  reprobates.  It  is  offered, 
it  knocks  at  the  hearts  of  the  vilest  persons,  that  live  in  filthy  and  false 
courses  of  life,  whose  tongues  and  bodies  are  all  instruments  of  an  unsanc- 
tified  soul  to  offend  God.  They  have  gracious  motions  offered  them,  but 
then  they  do  not  obey  them.  Therefore  the  Spirit  seizeth  not  upon  them, 
to  rule  in  them.  They  have  the  Spirit  knocking  upon  them  ;  he  doth  not 
dwell  in  them,  and  take  up  his  lodging  ia  them.  The  Spirit  is  given  to 
them  that  obey  the  sweet  motions  of  it.  Now,  who  is  it  that  hears  the 
blessed  word  of  God,  the  blessed  tidings  of  salvation,  but  he  hath  sweet 
motions  of  the  Spirit  to  be  in  love  with  God,  and  the  mercy  of  God, 
and  to  hate  sin  a  little  for  a  time,  then  presently  upon  it  corruption  joins 
and  swells  against  those  motions,  and  they  only  rest  in  the  bare  motion, 
and  never  come  to  any  perfection.  This  is  the  state  of  reprobates  in  the 
church.  They  have  many  motions  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  but  their  hearts  are 
not  subdued  to  obedience,  not  to  constant  obedience.  Therefore,  if  we 
would  have  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  let  us  labour  to  subject  ourselves  unto  it. 
When  we  have  any  good  motion  by  the  ministry  of  the  word,  or  by  con- 
ference, or  by  reading  of  good  things  (as  holy  things  have  a  savour  in  them, 
the  Spu'it  breathes  ia  holy  exercises).  Oh  give  way  to  the  motions  of  God's 
Spirit.  We  shaU  not  have  them  again  perhaps,  turn  not  back  those  blessed 
messengers,  let  us  entertain  them,  let  the  Spirit  dwell  and  rule  in  us.  It 
is  the  most  blessed  lodger  that  ever  we  entertained  in  all  our  lives.  If  we 
let  the  Spirit  guide  and  rule  us,  it  will  lead  us  and  govern  and  support  us 
in  life  and  death,  and  never  leave  us  tiU  it  have  raised  our  bodies  (the 
Spirit  of  Christ  in  us  at  length  will  quicken  our  dead  bodies),  Rom.  viii.  11, 
it  will  never  leave  us  till  it  have  brought  us  to  heaven.  This  is  the  state 
of  those  that  belong  to  God,  that  give  way  to  the  motions  of  God's  Spirit 
to  rule  and  guide  them.  Therefore,  if  we  would  have  the  Spirit  of  Christ, 
let  us  take  heed  of  rebelling  against  it. 

This  is  the  state  of  many  of  us, — the  Lord  be  mercifal  to  us,  and  cure  us, 
— that  we  do  not  only  not  receive  the  motions  of  the  Spirit  deeply  into  us, 
but  if  they  be  such  as  cross  us  in  our  pleasures  and  profits,  though  the 
word  and  Spirit  join  together,  there  is  a  rising  of  the  proud  spirit  of  man 
against  so  much  of  the  Spirit  and  the  motions  of  it,  and  against  such  parts 
of  the  word  as  crosseth  us.  This  will  be  laid  heavy  to  our  charge  one  day, 
that  we  would  bring  the  Spirit  of  God  to  our  corruptions,  and  not  bring 
our  hearts  to  God's  Spirit ;  and  hereupon  be  those  phrases  in  the  Scripture 
of  tempting  the  Spirit.  Ananias  and  Sapphira  tempted  the  Spirit,  Acts  v.  9 
— that  is,  when  men  wiU  do  that  which  is  naught,  and  try  whether  God 
will  forgive  them,  and  put  it  off  or  no.  How  many  are  there  that  tempt 
the  Spirit,  that  put  it  off,  '  Perhaps  I  shall  have  the  like  motions  another 
time,'  '  I  shall  have  better  occasion  when  I  can  gain  no  more,  when  I 
can  have  my  pleasure  no  more.'  Thus  men  resist  the  Spirit,  as  St 
Stephen  saith.  Acts  vii.  51 — that  is,  when  the  Sphit  discovers  to  them 
what  they  should  believe,  and  what  they  should  do,  and  they  see  it 
crosseth  their  resolution  to  be  naught.  Hereupon  they  resist  the  work 
of  the  Spirit,  that  else  would  close  with  their  souls,  and  sanctify  them, 
and  fit  them  for  heaven,  if  they  would  give  way  to  it.  And  there  is 
a  quenching  of  the  Spirit — that  is,  when  men  have  sweet  motions  of  the 
Spirit,  and  presently  by  some  ill  language  or  course  of  life  they  defile 


26  A  DESCRIPTION  OF  OHEIST. 

their  vessels,  and  quench  the  sweet  motions  of  the  Spirit.  Let  us  take 
heed  of  all  these,  of  tempting,  of  resisting,  and  quenching  the  Spirit. 
For  undoubtedly,  living  in  the  bosom  of  the  church,  we  have  many  heavenly 
motions,  especially  those  that  have  so  much  goodness  in  them  as  to  attend 
upon  God's  ordinances.  They  have  those  motions  at  those  times  that 
they  never  have  after  perhaps,  but  they  either  resist  them  or  quench  them, 
and  wrong  and  grieve  the  Spirit,  as  St  Paul  saith,  '  Grieve  not  the  Spirit 
of  God,  v/hereby  you  are  sealed  to  the  day  of  redemption,'  Eph.  iv.  30. 
Men  speak  or  do  somewhat  that  grieves  the  Spirit  of  God  in  them, 
their  conscience  being  enlightened  by  the  Spirit,  tells  them  that  they  have 
done  that  which  is  naught ;  yet  notwithstanding,  for  this  or  that  advantage, 
to  please  this  or  that  company,  they  will  speak  or  do  that  which  is  ill,  and 
then  the  Spirit  that  was  given  in  some  measure  before  is  grieved  at  this 
carnal  and  sinful  liberty.  Therefore,  if  ye  would  be  guided  by  the  Spirit 
of  Christ,  take  heed  of  all  these,  and  of  such  hke  courses. 

Another  means  whereby  we  may  come  to  obtain  the  Spirit  is  prayer. 
To  be  guided  by  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  next  to  Christ  himself,  our  Saviour, 
is  the  most  excellent  thing  in  the  world,  therefore  it  is  worth  the  begging 
and  getting.  '  How  much  more  shall  your  heavenly  Father  give  his  Holy 
Spirit  to  them  that  ask  him?'  Luke  xi.  13,  insinuating  that  we  can  ask 
nothing  greater  than  the  Spirit.  A  man  that  hath  a  sanctified  judgment, 
next  the  forgiveness  of  his  sins  through  Christ,  he  begs  nothing  more  than 
the  Spirit  to  witness  the  favour  of  God  in  Christ,  and  to  fit  him  for  other 
favom's,  especially  to  fit  us  for  the  world  to  come.  God  can  give  nothing 
greater,  nor  can  we  beg  nothing  greater,  if  we  have  sanctified  judgments, 
than  the  Spirit  of  God.  Therefore  let  us  have  an  high  esteem  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  of  the  motions  of  it,  and  out  of  an  high  esteem  in  our  hearts  beg  of 
God  the  guidance  of  the  Spii'it,  that  he  would  lead  us  by  his  Spirit,  and 
subdue  our  corruptions,  that  we  may  not  be  led  by  our  own  lusts,  and  so 
consequently  by  Satan,  that  leads  us  by  our  own  lusts  in  the  way  that 
leads  to  perdition.     So  much  for  that,  '  I  wiU  put  my  Spirit,'  &c. 

And  he  shall  shew  judgment  to  the  Gentiles. — After  Christ  was  fully  fur- 
nished, as  he  was  furnished  with  the  Spirit  of  God,  and  with  a  commission 
from  heaven,  from  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  having  this  high  commission, 
and  gifts  for  it  by  the  Spirit,  he  falls  upon  his  office  presently.  We  are  never 
fit  for  anjiihing  tiU  we  have  the  Spirit,  and  when  we  have  the  Spirit  it  is 
active  and  vigorous  and  working.    '  He  shaU  shew  judgment  to  the  Gentiles.' 

What  is  meant  by  judgment  here  ? 

By  judgment  is  meant  laws.  He  shall  declare  his  laws,  his  truth,  and, 
together  with  declaring  the  truth  of  the  gospel,  which  is  his  evangelical  law, 
he  shall  declare  it  in  the  soul,  and  bow  the  neck  of  the  inward  man  to  the 
obedience  of  this  his  judgment.  Christ  then,  by  himself  and  his  apostles 
and  ministers,  shall  declare  his  truth,  which  is  the  sceptre  of  his  govern- 
ment, to  the  Gentiles;  and  not  only  declare  it  as  princes  do  their  laws, 
by  proclamations  and  statutes,  &c.,  but  he  shall  declare  it  to  the  heart  by 
his  Spfrit. 

Now,  in  the  Hebrew  language,  ordinarily,  wise  government  is  called 
judgment  (b).  He  shall  declare  judgment,  that  is,  his  manner  of  government, 
he  shall  declare  it  by  his  Spirit,  and  cause  our  spirits  to  submit  to  it. 

And,  indeed,  grace  is  called  judgment,  ki  the  phrase  of  Scripture,  the 
grace  of  sanctification,  because  it  is  agreeable  to  judgment,  to  God's  law. 
It  is  agreeable  to  it,  and  wrought  by  it  in  the  soul,  and  it  is  the  best  judg- 
ment.    For  grace  whereby  the  soul  is  subject  to  the  judgmeat  and  law  and 


A  DESCRIPTION  OF  CHRIST.  27 

rule  of  God,  it  must  needs  be  the  best  judgment,  because  it  is  agreeable  to 
God's  judgment.  Grace  judgeth  arigbt  of  things,  and  subdues  all  things, 
the  affections  and  inward  man  to  itself. 

But  why  is  the  word  of  God  called  judgment  ? 

It  is  called  so  frequently  in  the  Psalms,  and  in  other  places  of  Scripture, 
because  the  truth  of  God  shews  what  God  doth  judge.  Judgment  is 
originally  iu  God,  who  is  the  first  truth  and  the  first  good.  The  first  truth 
judgeth  best  of  tniths ;  what  is  light  and  what  is  darkness,  what  is  truth 
and  what  is  error,  what  is  good  and  what  is  ill,  what  is  safe  and  what  is 
dangerous.  All  will  grant  that  God  is  the  first  light  and  the  first  truth ; 
therefore,  he  doth  originally  judge  of  the  difference  of  things ;  for  even  as 
in  the  creation  he  put  an  eternal  difference  between  hght  and  darkness,  and 
severed  things  that  were  ia  the  confused  chaos,  and  estabhshed  an  orderly 
world,  that  heaven  should  be  above,  and  earth  below,  that  one  thing  should 
be  above  another,  and  all  in  judgment ;  so  in  the  governing  of  mankind,  he 
shews  his  judgment  by  his  word,  and  that  word  shews  how  God  judgeth  of 
things.  Laws  shew  judgment,  what  is  to  be  done,  and  what  is  not  to  be 
done.  The  gospel  shews  God's  judgment,  what  he  will  have  us  believe 
and  hope  for,  and  how  we  must  carry  ourselves  in  way  of  thankfulness.  If 
we  do  this,  then  the  gospel,  the  word  of  God,  judgeth  what  shall  become  of 
us  ;  'we  shall  be  saved,'  Mark  xvi.  16.  If  we  do  the  contrary,  the  word 
again  judgeth  what  our  state  shall  be,  '  we  shall  be  damned,'  ibid.  So  it 
is  called  judgment,  because  it  judgeth  what  is  good  and  what  is  ill,  and 
because  it  determineth  what  shaU  become  of  us  if  we  obey  or  disobey. 

Hereupon  it  is  that  the  word  of  God  is  a  glass  wherein  we  may  see  our 
own  condition  infallibly,  what  wiU  become  of  us.  The  word  of  God  judgeth 
thus :  he  that  lives  in  such  and  such  sins  shall  come  to  this  end,  God  will 
inflict  these  and  these  judgments  upon  him.  Judgment,  in  the  first  place, 
is.  You  shall  do  this  and  this,  because  it  is  good.  Judgment,  in  the  second 
place,  is,  Because  5'ou  have  not  done  this,  this  shall  befall  you.  So  the 
evangelical  judgment  of  the  gospel  is  this,  '  He  that  repents  and  believes 
shall  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  life,'  John  iii.  15  ;  but  he  that  arms 
and  fm-nisheth  his  heart  to  rebellion,  he  shall  perish  in  his  sias,  '  He  that 
believeth  not  is  condemned  ah'eady,  the  wrath  of  God  hangs  over  his  head,' 
John  iii.  18.  So  from  this,  that  God's  truth  is  called  judgment,  we  may 
know  how  to  judge  of  ourselves,  even  as  God  judgeth  in  his  word.  We 
may  see  om-  own  faces  and  conditions  there.  He  that  is  a  man  of  death 
may  see  it  in  the  word,  and  he  that  is  appointed  for  happiness  may  there 
see  his  condition. 

Again,  not  only  the  word  of  God,  the  gospel,  which  is  out  of  us  in  the 
book  of  God,  is  called  judgment,  but  the  work  of  God  iu  the  soul,  sanctifi- 
cation,  is  called  judgment.  Hence,  we  may  observe  what  is  the  most 
judicious  course  in  the  world,  the  most  judicious  frame  of  soul,  when  it  is 
fi-amed  to  the  judgment  and  truth  of  God,  being  the  first  trath.  When  a 
man  is  sanctified  and  set  in  a  holy  fi-ame,  it  is  from  a  sanctified  judgment. 
The  flesh  is  subject  to  the  Spu'it.  Here  is  aU  in  a  gi-acious  order.  The 
baser  part  doth  not  rule  the  higher,  but  the  higher  part  of  the  soul,  a 
sanctified  judgment,  rules  aU,  because  the  whole  is  in  right  judgment. 
Therefore,  sanctification  is  called  judgment,  and  other  courses,  though  they 
be  never  so  fashionable,  are  but  madness  and  folly  and  disorder  in  the  cen- 
sm-e  in  the  Scripture.  Nothing  is  judgment  and  true  wisdom,  but  sanctifi- 
cation and  obedience  flowing  from  sanctification.  Therefore,  saith  Moses, 
in  Deut.  iv.  6,  '  Then  shall  you  be  known  to  be  a  wise  people  when  you 


28  A  DESCRIPTION  OF  CHEIST. 

obey  the  laws  that  I  have  given  you.'  Only  that,  shews  a  wise,  judicious 
man  to  be  obedient  to  God's  truth  by  the  Spirit  sanctifying  him.  Without 
the  truth  of  God  and  the  Spirit  in  us,  framing  our  souls  answerable  to  the 
truth,  we  are  out  of  all  good  order ;  for  then  the  affections  that  should  be 
ruled,  rule  us  ;  then  the  body  and  the  lusts  of  the  body  rule  the  soul ;  and 
the  devil  rules  by  both.  What  a  shameful  disorder  is  this,  when  a  man 
shall  be  ruled  by  the  devil  and  his  own  lusts,  that  he  should  tread  under 
feet  and  trample  upon !  And  this  is  the  state  of  all  that  have  not  this 
judgment  in  them,  that  have  not  the  word  of  God  written  in  their  hearts, 
bowing  and  bending  them  by  the  Spirit  of  God  to  spiritual  obedience. 
To  prove  this,  I  will  name  but  one  place  among  many,  Tit.  iii.  3 ;  he 
shews  the  state  of  all  men  that  are  not  brought  into  subjection  by 
this  judgment,  by  the  word  and  Spirit  of  truth.  We,  ourselves,  saith 
he,  *  were  sometimes  foolish  and  disobedient ;'  tiU  this  judgment  is  set  up 
in  us,  we  are  foolish  in  our  understandings,  and  disobedient  in  our  wills 
and  affections,  deceived  and  misled  by  the  devil  and  our  own  lusts :  for 
that  follows  upon  folly.  Those  that  are  foolish  and  disobedient  are  deceived 
and  led  away  to  eternal  destruction.  '  There  is  a  way  that  seems  good  in  a 
man's  own  eyes,  but  the  issues  of  it  are  death,'  saith  Solomon,  Prov.  xiv. 
12.  This  is  the  state  of  all  men  that  are  not  led  with  the  judgment  of 
God's  truth  and  Spirit,  sanctifying  and  frammg  their  souls  to  obedience, 
they  are  foolish  and  disobedient  and  deceived,  and  so  it  will  prove  with 
them  in  the  end,  '  serving  diverse  lusts,  and  pleasures,  Uving  in  mahce  and 
envy,  hating  one  another,'  Titus  iii.  3.  Now  when  God  by  his  blessed  truth 
and  Spirit  sets  up  his  rule  in  the  heart,  it  brings  all  into  captivity ;  as  St 
Paul  saith,  it  brings  all  the  inner  man  into  subjection  :  *  The  word  of  God 
is  the  weapon  of  God ;  these  judgments  are  mighty  in  operation,  together  with 
the  Spii'it,  to  beat  down  aU  strongholds  and  to  set  up  another  judgment 
there  ;  it  brings  aU  into  captivity  to  the  truth  and  command  of  God,  and  to 
the  motions  of  the  Spirit,  2  Cor.  x.  4,  5  (c).  The  word  and  Spirit  beat  down 
aU  the  strongholds  that  are  raised  up  in  the  heart  by  Satan,  and  our  cor- 
ruptions. So  we  see  here  what  is  meant  by  this  phrase,  '  he  shall  declare 
judgment  to  the  Gentiles.'  It  is  a  militant  word,  therefore  I  have  stood 
somewhat  the  longer  in  vmfolding  of  it. 

Now  this  is  wrought  by  the  preaching  of  the  gospel,  '  he  shall  declare 
judgment  to  the  Gentiles.'  All  grace  comes  by  declaring ;  '  The  gospel  is 
the  power  of  God  to  salvation,'  Rom.  i.  16.  Let  but  the  gospel  (which  is 
God's  judgment  how  men  shall  be  saved,  and  how  they  shall  walk  in 
obedience  by  way  of  thankfulness  to  God)  be  declared,  and  all  that  belong 
to  God  shall  come  in,  and  yield  homage  to  it,  and  be  brought  in  subjection. 
The  devil  in  the  antichristian  state  knows  this  well  enough.  Therefore  he 
labours  to  hinder  the  declaration  of  judgment  by  all  means  ;  he  wiU  not  have 
God's  judgments  but  men's  traditions  declared.  He  knows  the  declaring  of 
God's  judgments  will  breed  an  alteration  quickly  in  men's  dispositions  :  For 
when  he  saith,  he  shall  declare  judgment  to  the  Gentiles,  he  means  the  conse- 
quent as  well  as  the  thing,  he  shall  so  declare  judgment  that  they  shall 
yield  spiritual  obedience  and  come  in  and  be  saved. 

Let  the  devil  do  his  worst,  let  all  seducers  of  souls  do  their  worst,  if  they 
would  but  give  way  to  the  preaching  of  the  gospel,  let  but  judgment  be 
declared,  let  God's  arm  be  stretched  forth  in  delivering  the  truth,  he  would 
soon  gain  souls  out  of  the  captivity  and  bondage  of  Satan.  They  know  it 
well  enough  ;  therefore  by  all  the  ways  they  can,  they  stop  the  preaching  of 
the  gospel,  and  disgrace  and  hinder  it,  and  set  up  men's  traditions  instead 


A  DESCBIPTION  OF  CHEIST.  29 

of  the  gospel.     But  I  will  not  enlarge  myself  farther  upon  these  words,  but 
go  on  to  the  next. 

He  shall  not  strive  nor  cry,  neither  shall  any  man  hear  his  voice  in  the 
streets. — These  words  set  down  the  mild  and  sweet  and  amiable  manner  of 
Christ's  carriage  upon  earth.  Here,  in  his  first  coming  to  work  the 
great  work  of  our  redemption,  he  did  not  carry  the  matter  in  an  outward 
glorious  manner,  in  pomp ;  but  he  would  have  his  miracles  concealed  ofttimes 
and  himself  hidden.  His  Godhead  was  hid  under  the  veil  of  his  manhood. 
He  could  not  have  wrought  our  salvation  else.  If  the  devil  and  the  world  had 
known  Cluist  to  be  as  he  was,  they  would  never  have  made  those  attempts 
against  him.  Therefore,  considering  he  had  such  a  dispensation  to  work 
our  salvation  as  a  king,  priest,  and  prophet,  he  would  not  cry  and  contend 
and  strive,  he  would  not  come  with  any  great  noise. 

Now,  here  is  an  opposition  to  the  giving  of  the  law,  and  likewise  to  the 
coming  and  carriage  of  civil  princes.  You  know  when  the  law  was  given 
all  the  mount  was  on  fire,  and  the  earth  thereabout  quaked  and  trembled, 
and  the  people  fled."  They  could  not  endure  to  hear  the  voice  of  God 
speaking  ia  the  mount;  there  was  such  a  terrible  smoke  and  fire,  they  were 
all  afraid.  Thus  came  Moses.  Now,  did  Christ  come  as  Moses  ?  Was 
the  gospel  delivered  by  Christ  as  the  law  was,  in  terrors  and  fears  ?  Oh, 
no.  Christ  came  not  in  such  a  terrible  manner,  in  thunder  and  hghtning; 
but  the  gospel,  it  came  sweetly.  A  dove,  a  mild  creature,  lit  upon  the 
head  of  Christ  when  he  was  baptized,  to  shew  his  mild  manner  of  carriage ; 
and  he  came  with  blessing  in  his  mouth  in  his  first  sermon  of  all :  'Blessed 
are  the  poor  in  spirit,  blessed  are  they  that  mourn,  blessed  are  they  that 
hunger  and  thirst  after  righteousness,'  Matt.  v.  3,  4,  6.  The  law  came  with 
cm-ses  :  *  Cursed  is  every  one  that  continueth  not  in  all  things  written  in 
the  law  to  do  them,'  Gal.  iii,  10.  Christ  came  in  another  manner;  the 
gospel  was  deUvered  in  a  mild,  sweet  manner.  Christ,  as  an  ambassador, 
came  sweetly  to  entreat  and  beseech.  There  is  a  crying,  indeed,  but  it  is 
a  crying  out  of  love  and  entreaty,  not  a  shouting  in  a  terrible  manner  as 
was  at  the  giving  of  the  law,  no,  nor  as  at  the  coming  of  other  civil 
princes  into  a  city,  with  shouting  and  noise  of  trumpets,  with  pomp,  and 
state,  and  great  attendants.  Chiist  came  not  into  the  world  to  execute  his 
kingdom  and  office  in  such  pomp  and  noise  as  it  is  said  of  Agrippa,  Acts 
XXV.  23,  '  He  came  with  great  pomp.'  So  worldly  princes  carry  things  thus, 
and  it  is  needful  in  some  sort.  People  must  have  shows  and  pomp ;  the 
outward  man  must  have  outward  things  to  astonish  it  withal.  It  is  a  policy 
in  state  so  to  do.  But  Christ  came  ia  another  manner.  He  came  not  to 
make  men  quake  and  tremble  that  came  to  speak  and  deal  with  him.  He 
came  not  with  clamour  and  fierceness ;  for  who  would  have  come  to  Christ 
then  ?  But  he  came  in  a  mild,  and  sweet,  and  amiable  manner.  We  see  a 
little  before  the  text  (ver.  16),  upon  occasion  of  the  inference  of  these  words, 
he  commands  and  chargeth  them  that  they  should  not  discover  him  and  make 
him  known.    When  he  had  done  a  good  work  he  would  not  have  it  known. 

Now,  there  are  three  things  especially  insinuated  in  this  description, 
*  He  shall  not  strive  nor  cry,  neither  shall  any  man  hear  his  voice  in  the 
street.'  That  Christ  should  not  be  outwardly  glorious  to  publish  his  own 
excellency,  nor  contentious  ;  he  should  not  cry  nor  quarrel,  nor  he  should 
not  be  clamorous,  if  he  had  any  wrong,  to  be  all  on  fire  presently,  but  he 
should  be  as  a  meek  lamb,  he  should  make  no  noise,  he  should  not  come 
in  vainglory  or  clamour,  &c. 

But  here  we  must  know  that  Christ  was  a  wise  discemer  of  the  fitness  of 


80  A  DESCRIPTION  OF  CHRIST. 

times  ;  for  sometimes  he  would  have  things  puhlished,  sometimes  he  would 
not ;  sometimes  he  would  be  known,  sometimes  he  would  not.  Christ,  in 
his  second  coming,  shall  come  all  in  majesty  and  glory  with  his  angels,  and 
all  the  earth  shall  appear  before  him ;  but  now  his  wisdom  told  him,  now 
he  came  to  save  the  world  as  a  prophet,  priest,  and  king,  to  work  man's 
salvation,  that  he  must  hide  and  conceal  himself ;  and  so  he  ordered  all  his 
courses  by  discretion.  Every  sacrifice  must  be  salted  with  salt,  everything 
should  be  seasoned  with  the  salt  of  discretion.  This  is  the  steward  of  all 
our  actions,  to  know  what  is  fit.  Christ  knew  it  was  fittest  to  conceal  him- 
self now  at  this  time. 

Now,  by  Christ's  example  we  should  learn  this,  not  to  be  vainglorious, 
not  to  make  a  great  noise.  You  have  some,  if  they  do  anything  that  is 
good,  presently  all  the  world  must  know  it.  This  was  not  Christ's  disposi- 
tion. It  is  a  disposition  that  is  hardly  wrought  out  of  man's  heart  without 
an  exceeding  great  measure  of  the  Spirit  of  God ;  for  we  see  good  men 
have  been  given  this  way.  David  would  number  the  people,  that  it  might 
be  known  what  a  great  monarch  he  was,  what  a  great  number  of  people  he 
had,  2  Sam.  xxiv.  He  was  a  good  man,  yet  vainglorious.  He  smarted 
for  it.  So  good  Hezekiah.  Ambassadors  were  sent  to  him  from  the  king 
of  Babylon,  and  that  they  should  know  that  Hezekiah  was  no  beggarly 
prince,  out  must  come  the  vessels  of  the  temple  and  all  his  treasures,  to 
shew  what  a  rich  king  the  king  of  Judah  was,  2  Kings  xx.  13,  et  seq.  His 
vainglory  cost  him  all  his  riches,  as  the  prophet  told  him.  So  the  disciples. 
Before  they  received  a  great  measure  of  the  Spirit,  how  vainglorious  were 
they  !  They  contended  for  the  higher  place ;  therefore  they  advise  Christ 
to  go  up  to  Jerusalem,  that  he  might  be  known.  As  Jehu  said  to  Jonadab, 
'  Come  up  and  see  my  zeal  for  the  Lord  of  hosts,'  2  Icings  x.  16,  he 
accounts  it  nothing  unless  it  be  seen.  So  flesh  and  blood.  If  there  be 
anything  done  that  is  good,  all  the  world  must  know  it  presently.  Christ 
chargeth  them  that  no  noise  should  be  made,  but  that  they  should  conceal 
him. 

What  should  we  learn  hence  ? 

To  be  of  Christ's  disposition,  that  is,  to  have  no  more  care  of  the  know- 
ledge of  things  than  the  light  of  the  things  themselves  will  discover,  to  do 
works  of  light,  and  if  the  things  themselves  will  break  forth  to  men's  eyes 
and  they  must  see  our  light  shine,  then  let  them,  and  imitate  our  good 
works ;  but  for  us  to  blazon  them  abroad  ourselves,  it  is  not  the  spirit  of 
Christ. 

Let  us  labour  to  have  humility  of  spirit,  that  that  may  grow  up  with  us 
in  all  our  performances,  that  all  things  that  we  speak  and  do  may  savour  of 
a  spirit  of  humility,  that  we  may  seek  the  glory  of  God  in  aU  things  more 
than  our  own. 

And  let  us  commit  the  fame  and  credit  of  what  we  are  or  do  to  God. 
He  will  take  care  of  that.  Let  us  take  care  to  be  and  to  do  as  we  should, 
and  then  for  noise  and  report,  let  it  be  good  or  ill  as  God  will  send  it.  We 
know  ofttimes  it  falls  out  that  that  which  is  precious  in  man's  eye  is  abomi- 
nable in  God's.  If  we  seek  to  be  in  the  mouths  of  men,  to  dwell  in  the 
talk  and  speech  of  men,  God  will  abhor  us,  and  at  the  hour  of  death  it  will 
not  comfort  us  what  men  speak  or  know  of  us,  but  sound  comfort  must  be 
from  our  own  conscience  and  the  judgment  of  God.  Therefore,  let  us 
labour  to  be  good  in  secret.  Christians  should  be  as  minerals,  rich  in  the 
depth  of  the  earth.  That  which  is  least  seen  is  his  riches.  We  should 
have  our  treasure  deep.     For  the  discovery  of  it  we  should  be  ready  when 


A  DESCEIPTION  OF  CHRIST.  81 

we  are  called  to  it,  and  for  aU  other  accidental  things,  let  them  fall  out  as 
God  in  his  wisdom  sees  good.  So  let  us  look  through  good  report  and  bad 
report  to  heaven ;  let  us  do  the  duties  that  are  pleasing  to  God  and  our  own 
conscience,  and  God  will  be  careful  enough  to  get  us  applause.  Was  it  not 
sufficient  for  Abel,  that  though  there  was  no  great  notice  taken  what  faith 
he  had,  and  how  good  a  man  he  was,  yet  that  God  knew  it  and  discovered 
it  ?  God  sees  our  sincerity  and  the  truth  of  our  hearts,  and  the  graces  of 
our  mward  man,  he  sees  all  these,  and  he  values  us  by  these,  as  he  did 
Abel.  As  for  outward  things  there  may  be  a  great  deal  of  deceit  in  them, 
and  ihe  more  a  man  grows  in  grace,  the  less  he  cares  for  them.  As  much 
reputation  as  is  fit  for  a  man  will  follow  him  in  being  and  doing  what  he 
should.  God  will  look  to  that.  Therefore  we  should  not  set  up  sails  to 
our  own  meditations,  that  unless  we  be  carried  with  the  wind  of  applause, 
to  be  becalmed  and  not  go  a  whit  forward ;  but  we  should  be  carried  with 
the  Spirit  of  God  and  with  a  holy  desire  to  serve  God,  and  our  brethren, 
and  to  do  all  the  good  we  can,  and  never  care  for  the  speeches  of  the  world, 
as  St  Paul  saith  of  himself:  *  I  care  not  what  ye  judge  of  me,  I  care  not 
what  the  world  judgeth,  I  care  not  for  man's  judgment,'  1  Cor.  iv.  3.  This 
is  man's  day.  "We  should,  from  the  example  of  Christ,  labour  to  subdue 
this  infirmity  which  we  are  sick  of  naturally.  Christ  concealed  himself  till 
he  saw  a  fitter  time.  We  shall  have  glory  enough,  and  be  known  enough 
to  devils,  to  angels,  and  men  ere  long.  Therefore,  as  Christ  lived  a  hidden 
life,  that  is,  he  was  not  known  what  he  was,  that  so  he  might  work  our  sal- 
vation, so  let  us  be  content  to  be  hidden  men.  A  true  Christian  is  hidden 
to  the  world  till  the  time  of  manifestation  comes.  When  the  time  came, 
Christ  then  gloriously  discovered  what  he  was  ;  so  we  shall  be  discovered 
what  we  are.  In  the  mean  time,  let  us  be  careful  to  do  our  duty  that  may 
please  the  Spirit  of  God,  and  satisfy  our  own  conscience,  and  leave  all  the 
rest  to  God.  Let  us  meditate,  in  the  fear  of  God,  upon  these  directions 
for  the  guidance  of  our  lives  in  this  particular. 


NOTES. 


(a)  P.  6. — '  Eed,  well-coloured  earth.'  The  allusion  is  to  the  name  of  Adam,  or 
man — DIJ^,  red,  ruddy — and  to  his  derivation,  as  recorded  in  Gen,  ii.  7. 

(b)  P.  26. — '  In  the  Hebrew  language  ordinarily  wise  government  is  called  judg- 
ment.'   This  holds  of  various  Hebrew  terms.     In  the  passage  explained  (Isa.  xlii.  1), 

the  term  rendered  judgment,  is  JOSli^Q,  which  is  equivalent  to  HTli^,  l^'"'- 

T  :    •  T 

(c)  P.  28. — 2  Cor.  x.  4,  5.  Sibbes's  translation  of  this  somewhat  diflBcult 
passage  may  be  profitably  compared  with  Alford,  Stanley,  Hodge,  and  others,  in  loc. 
It  is  surprising  how  many  of  these  unpretending  and  almost  incidental  renderings 
anticipate  the  results  of  the  highest  scholarship  of  our  time.  He  may  not  be — who 
is  ? — invariably  accurate  critically,  but  he  rarely  fails  in  his  insight  into  the  '  mind 
of  the  Spirit.'  G. 


THE  BRUISED  REED  AND  SMOKING  FLAX. 


VOL. 


NOTE. 

The  editions  of  the  '  Bruised  Reed  and  Smoking  Flax '  known  to  the  editor  are, 
with  the  letters  used  to  designate  those  collated  for  the  present  publication,  as 
follows : — 

(a)  The  Brvlsed  Reede,  and  Smoaking  Flax.  Some  Sermons  contracted  out  of 
the  12.  of  Matth.  20.  At  the  desire,  and  for  the  good  of  weaker  Christians.  By  R. 
Sibbes,  D.D.     Zach.  4.  10,  Who  hath  despised  the  day  of  small  things  ? 

London.  Printed  for  R.  Dawlman,  dwelling  at  the  signe  of  the  Brazen  Serpent  in 
Paul's  Church-yard.     1630.     18mo.     A. 

This  is  the  first  edition. 

{b)  '  The  second  Edition,  enlarged.'     1631.     18mo.    B. 

(c)  3d  edition  1631.     18mo. 

{d)  4th      „      1632.    18mo. 

(e)  5th      „       '  corrected,'  1635.     l&mo.     ilJ 

(f)  6th      ,.       1638.     18mo. 

{g)  6th      „       [so  designated]  *  corrected,  and  divided  into  chapters.' 
1658.     18mo.     G. 

The  text  of  our  reprint  is  E,  as  having  been  the  last  issued  during  the  lifetime 
of  Sibbes.  The  '  corrections'  and  '  enlargements'  of  B,  and  the  original  readings  of 
A,  are  noted.  These  will  shew  the  watchful  pains  which  Sibbes  took  in  the  matter 
even  of  style.  It  also  deepens  the  regret  that  so  many  of  his  writings  labour  under 
the  disadvantage  of  posthumous  publication. 

The  division  '  into  chapters,'  which  we  probably  owe  to  the  celebrated  John 
Goodwin,  who  also  prefixed  an  admirable  '  Epistle'  to  another  of  Sibbes's  volumea 
(Exposition  of  Philippians,  c.  iii.,  &c.,.&c.,  4to,  1639),  it  has  been  deemed  advisable 
to  retain.     It  is  the  form  in  which  all  subsequent  editions  have  appeared. 

The  '  various  readings,'  are  given  as  foot-notes. 

G 


d 


TO  THE  RIGHT  HONOURABLE 

SIE  HOKATIO  VEEE,  KNIGHT, 

LORD  VERB  OP  TILBXJRY,  AND  GENERAL  OF  THE  ENGLISH  FORGES 

UNDER  THE  HIGH  AND  MIGHTY  LORDS 

THE  STATES  GENERAL  OF  THE  UNITED  PROVINCES  IN  THE  NETHERLANDS  :  * 

AND  TO  HIS  PIOUS  CONSORT, 

THE  LADY  MAEY  VEEE.t 

increase  of  grace,  etc. 

Right  Honourable, 

Soldiers  that  carry  their  lives  in  their  hands  had  need,  above  all 
others,  to  carry  grace  in  their  hearts,  that  so  having  made  peace  with  God, 
they  may  be  fit  to  encounter  with  men ;  and  having  by  faith  in  Christ  dis- 
armed death  before  they  die,  they  may  sacrifice  their  life  with  the  more 

*  Sir  Horatio  Vere  was  the  youngest  son  of  Geffrey  de  Vere,  Esq.,  who  again  was 
son  of  John  Vere,  15th  Earl  of  Oxford.  He  was  born  at  Kirkby  Hall,  Essex,  in 
1565.  As  the  titles  of  the  present  '  Epistle  Dedicatory  '  shew,  he  was  a  military 
commander  of  note,  only  second  to  his  illustrious  brother  Sir  Francis.  Keturning 
from  a  campaign  in  Bohemia,  in  1622-3,  the  king  (James  I.),  according  to  Camden, 
'  received  him  so  graciously  and  thankfully,  that  forgetting  himself,  he  stood  bare 
to  him.'  On  the  accession  of  Charles  I.,  in  1625,  he  was,  in  consideration  of  his 
eminent  services,  raised  to  the  peerage,  by  the  title  of  Lord  Vere,  Baron  Tilbury. 
He  was  the  first  peer  created  by  Charles.  He  died.  May  2.  1635,  only  three  months 
before  Sibbes  himself.  Besides  the  tribute  of  the  author  of  the  '  Bruised  Reed.'  to 
the  worth  of  Sir  Horatio,  Fuller  has  burnished  his  name  as  of  one  renowned  for 
piety,  meekness,  and  valour.  A  volume  of  poems,  now  rarely  to  be  met  with,  was 
published  on  his  death.  It  is  entitled,  '  Elegies,  celebrating  the  happy  memory  of 
Horatio  Vere.'  (London,  1642,  8vo.)  For  full  'Memoirs'  of  him,  consult  the 
Extinct  Peerage  books.  G. 

t  Lady  Mary  Vere. — Anderson  in  his  '  Memorable  omen  of  the  Puritan  Times,' 
(2  vols.,  1862,  just  issued,)  has  given  a  singularly  interesting,  and  on  the  whole, 
accurate  account  of  this  remarkable  Lady.  (See  vol.  i,  pp.  31-85.)  It  was  to  her 
the  Parliament  entrusted  the  care  of  the  children  of  Charles  I.  She  died  on  the 
25th  of  December  1671,  in  the  ninety-first  year  of  her  age.  GurnaU  preached  her 
funeral  sermon.  G. 


36  EPISTLE  DEDICATOEY. 

courage  and  comfort,  which  to  neglect,  being  a  matter  of  eternity,  is  not 
yalour,  but  desperate  madness,  because  in  this  business,  as  in  oversights 
of  "war,  there  is  no  place  for  a  second  repentance,  the  first  error  being  un- 
recoverable. In  evils  above  the  strength  of  man  to  prevail  against*  and 
his  patience  to  endure,  there  God  hath  planted  the  affection  of  fear,  which 
might  stir  us  up  to  avoid  the  danger  by  flying  to  him  in  Christ,  who  being 
our  friend,  it  is  no  matter  who  is  our  enemy  :  we  may  be  killed,  but  cannot 
be  hurt ;  so  safe  it  is  to  be  under  his  command  that  hath  command  over 
death,  hell,  judgment,  and  all  that  we  most  fear.  Yet  such  is  our  nature, 
that  by  familiarity  with  danger,  we  grow  by  degrees  insensibly  to  be  hard- 
ened against  it,  and  to  look  no  farther  than  death,  as  if  to  die  were  only  to 
give  up  the  ghost,  and  then  an  end  of  all.  And  hereupon  it  is,  that  they 
that  follow  the  wars  are  generally  taken  to  be  men  not  most  reUgious  ;  the 
more  respect  those  of  that  profession  deserve,  that  have  learned  upon  what 
terms  to  live  and  die,  that  are  sure  of  a  better  life  before  they  leave  this, 
that  have  laid  up  their  life  in  Christ ;  amongst  whom.  Eight  Honourable, 
the  world  hath  a  long  time  taken  notice  of  you,  in  whom  both  religion  and 
mihtary  employment,  meekness  of  spirit  with  height  of  courage,  humility 
with  honour,  by  a  rare  and  happy  combination  have  met  together.  Whereby 
you  have  much  vindicated  your  profession  from  common  imputation,  and 
shewed  that  piety  can  enter  into  tents,  and  follow  after  camps,  and  that 
God  hath  his  Joshuas  and  his  Corneliuses  in  all  ages.  But  I  will  not  use 
many  words  of  yourself  to  yourself,  because  though  you  have  done  much 
that  may  and  will  be  spoken,  yet  you  love  not  to  hear  or  speak  of  what  you 
have  done. 

It  may  seem  to  some  unbefitting  to  ofier  a  discourse  of  a  '  bruised  reed ' 
to  such  a  strong  and  flourishing  cedar.  But  experience  sheweth  that  the 
strongest  plants  in  God's  house  are  exposed  sometimes  to  strong  winds  of 
temptation,  and  thereupon  meet  with  bruisings,  that  they  may  the  better 
know  by  whose  strength  they  stand,  and  that  the  gi'eatest  may  learn  to  go 
out  of  themselves  to  the  same  common  rock  and  fountain  of  strength  with 
the  meanest.  David  was  a  valiant  man ;  yet  upon  experience  of  his  oft 
faihngs  and  recoveries,  he  became  towards  God  as  a  weaned  child.  Low- 
liness of  mind  to  Godward  and  greatness  of  spirit  against  His  enemies  may 
well  stand  together ;  for  the  way  to  be  above  all  other  things  is  to  submit 
to  God  first.  Besides,  this  text  speaketh  of  the  prevailing  government  of 
Christ  in  his  church  and  in  his  children,  which  may  be  an  encourage- 
ment to  your  Lordship  still,  not  only  to  own  the  cause  of  Christ  in  these 
times,  wherein  men  are  ashamed  of  what  they  should  glory  in,  and  glory 
in  their  shame;  but  likewise  to  fight  the  Lord's  battles,  when  called 
to  it,  and  help  him  against  the  mighty,  for  victory  attendeth  Christ's  side 
in  the  end.  Though  God,  to  revenge  the  quarrel  of  his  covenant,  sufier 
his  enemies  to  prevail  yet  for  a  time,  to  harden  them  the  more,  yet  they 
have  undertaken  a  damned  cause  ;  and  howsoever  the  church  hath  justly 
provoked  God,  yet  the  cause  shall  stand  impregnable  against  all  created 
*  '  Against,'  added  first  in  B. 


EPISTLE  DEDICATOBY.  37 

power  of  devils  and  men.  We  naturally  desire  victory,  and  many  desire  it 
more  than  truth  or  goodness,  which  only  are  victorious ;  and  so  out  of  a 
depraved  judgment  they  cross  their  own  desires,  seeking  to  overcome  in 
that  wherein  it  were  safer  for  them  to  be  overcome.  These  *  are  sure  to 
meet  with  shame  in  the  conclusion  instead  of  victory ;  or  else  we  must 
deny  Christ  to  be  King  of  his  church  and  Judge  of  the  world.  Proceed  on 
still,  Honourable  Lord,  to  stand  for  Christ  both  in  peace  and  war,  and  this 
shall  be  found  to  your  honour  when  Christ  shall  come  *  to  be  glorious  in 
his  saints,'  2  Thess.  i.  10,  that  he  thought  you  worthy  to  honour  himself  by, 
when  others,  that  oppose  or  betray  the  cause  of  Christ  for  base  ends,  shall 
not  dare  to  hold  up  their  heads. 

I  would  not  divide  you  from  your  Honourable  Lady,  being  obliged  to 
both,  and  both  being  one,  as  in  other  bands,  so  in  that  above  nature,  in 
love  to  the  best  things ;  both  exemplary  in  all  religious  courses ;  both  in 
your  places,  likewise,  having  been  employed  in  great  services  for  the 
common  good,  so  that  not  only  this  but  foreign  States  are  bound  to  bless 
God  for  you  both.  Going  on  in  these  ways,  you  will  find  God  making  his 
promise  good  of  honouring  them  that  honour  him. 

I  do  not  so  far  overvalue  this  poor  work  as  to  think  it  worthy  of  your 
Honours,  but  thus  I  thought  meet  to  witness  my  deserved  respect  to  you 
both.  If  I  be  to  blame  for  sufiering  these  sermons,  long  since  preached, 
thus  to  come  forth,  others  must  di^dde  the  fault  with  me,  who  had  brought 
it  to  that  pass  that  it  was  almost  necessary  for  me  to  take  this  course.  The 
Lord  continue  to  bless  your  Honours,  with  all  your  branches,  and  to 
maintain  his  grace  in  you,  *  until  he  hath  brought  forth  judgment  unto 
victory,'  Mat.  xii.  20. 

Your  Honours'  to  command  in  the  Lord, 

EICHARD  SIBBES. 
•  '  They,'  in  A. 


TO  THE  GENEEAL  KEADEE. 


To  prevent  a  further  inconvenience,  I  was  drawn  to  let  these  notes  pass 
with  some  review,  considering  there  was  an  intendment  of  pubhshing 
them,  by  some  who  had  not  perfectly  taken  them  ;  and  these  first,  as  being 
next  at  hand :  and  having  had  occasion  lately  of  some  fresh  thoughts  con- 
cerning this  argument,  by  dealing  with  some,  the  chief  ground  of  whose 
trouble  was  the  want  of  considering  of  the  gracious  nature  and  oflGice  of 
Christ ;  the  right  conceit  of  which  is  the  spring  of  all  service  to  Christ,  and 
comfort  from  him.  God  hath  laid  up  all  grace  and  comfort  in  Christ  for 
us,  and  planted  a  wonderful  sweetness  of  pity  and  love  in  his  heart  towards 
us.  As  God  his  father  hath  fitted  him  tvith  a  body,  Heb.  x.  7,  so  with  a 
heart  to  be  a  merciful  Redeemer.  What  do*  the  Scriptures  speak  but 
Christ's  love  and  tender  care  over  those  that  are  humbled  ?  and  besides  the 
mercy  that  resteth  in  his  own  breast,  he  works  the  Hke  impression  in  his 
ministers  and  others,  to  comfort  the  feeble-minded,  mid  to  bear  with  the  weak, 
1  Thess.  V.  14.  Ministers  by  their  calling  are  friends  of  the  Bride,  and  to 
bring  Christ  and  his  Spouse  together,  and  therefore  ought,  upon  all  good 
occasions,  to  lay  open  aU  the  excellencies  of  Christ,  and  amongst  others,  as 
that  he  is  highly  born,  mighty.  One  *  ia  whom  all  the  treasures  of  wisdom 
are  hid,'  Col.  ii.  3,  &c.,  so  likewise  gentle,  and  of  a  good  nature,  and  of  a 
gracious  disposition.  It  cannot  but  cheer  the  heart  of  the  spouse,  to  con- 
sider, in  aU  her  infirmities  and  miseries  she  is  subject  to,t  that  she  hath  a 
husband  of  a  kind  disposition,  that  knows  how  to  give  the  honour  of  mild 
usage  to  the  weaker  vessel,  that  win  be  so  far  from  rejecting  her,  because 
she  is  weak,  that  he  will  pity  her  the  more.  And  as  he  is  kind  at  all  times, 
so  especially  when  it  is  most  seasonable ;  he  wiU  speak  to  her  heart,  '  espe- 
cially in  the  wilderness,'  Hos.  ii.  24.  The  more  glory  to  God,  and  the 
more  comfort  to  a  Christian  soul,  ariseth  from  the  belief  and  application  of 
these  things,  the  more  the  enemy  of  God's  glory  and  man's  comfort  labours 
to  breed  mispersuasions  of  them,  that  if  he  cannot  keep  men  from  heaven, 
and  bring  them  into  that  cursed  condition  he  is  in  himself,  yet  he  may 
trouble  them  in  their  passage  ;  some  and  none  of  the  worst,  Satan  prevails 
withal  so  far  as  to  neglect  the  means,  upon  fear  they  should,  being  so  sin- 
ful, dishonour  God  and  increase  their  sins ;  and  so  they  lie  smothering 
under  this  temptation,  as  it  were  bound  hand  and  foot  by  Satan,  not  daring 
to  make  out  to  Christ,  and  yet  are  secretly  upheld  by  a  spirit  of  faith, 
shewing  itself  in  hidden  sighs  and  groans  unto  God.  These  are  abused  by 
false  representations  of  Christ ;  all  whose  ways  to  such  being  ways  of 
mercy,  and  all  his  thoughts,  thoughts  of  love.  The  more  Satan  is  maUcious 
*  '  Dotli,'  in  A  and  B.  I '  Unto,'  in  A  and  B. 


TO  THE  OHEISTIAN  READER.  39 

in  keeping  the  soul  in  daxkness,  the  more  care  is  to  be  had  of  establishing 
the  soul  upon  that  which  will  stay  it.  Amongst  other  grounds  to  build  our 
faith  on,  as  the  free  offer  of  grace  to  all  that  will  receive  it,  Kev.  xxii.17 ; 
the  gracious  invitation  of  all  that  are  weary  and  heavy  laden,  Matt.  xi.  28 ; 
those  that  have  nothing  to  buy  withal,  Isa.  Iv.  1 ;  the  command  binding  to 
beheve,  1  John.  iii.  23 ;  the  danger  of  not  beUeving,  being  shut  up  prisoners 
thereby  under  the  guUt  of  aU  other  sius,  John  xvi.  9  ;  the  sweet  entreaty 
to  beheve,  and  ordaining  ambassadors  to  desire  peace,  2  Cor.  v.  20 ;  put- 
ting tender  aflfections  into  them,  answerable  to  their  caUing,  ordaining 
sacraments  for  the  seaKng  of  the  covenant.  Besides  these,  I  say,  and  such 
moving  inducements,  this  is  one  infusiug  vigour  and  strength  into  aU  the 
rest,  that  they  proceed  from  Christ,  a  person  authorised,  and  from  those 
bowels  that  moved  him  not  only  to  become  a  man,  but  a  curse  for  us ; 
hence  it  is,  that  he  *  will  not  quench  the  smoking  wick  or  Jiax.'  It  adds 
strength  to  faith  to  consider,  that  all  expressions  of  love  issue  from  nature 
in  Christ,  which  is  constant.  God  knows  that,  as  we  are  prone  to  sin,  so, 
when  conscience  is  thoroughly  awaked,  we  are  as  prone  to  despair  for  sin  ; 
and  therefore  he  would  have  us  know,  that  he  setteth  himself  in  the 
covenant  of  grace  to  triumph  ia  Christ  over  the  greatest  evils  and  enemies 
we  fear,  and  that  his  thoughts  are  not  as  our  thoughts  are,  Isa.  v.  8  ;  that 
he  is  God,  and  not  man,  Hos.  xi.  9 ;  that  there  are  heights,  and  depths, 
and  breadths  of  mercy  in  him  above  aU  the  depths  of  our  siu  and  misery, 
Eph.  iii.  18 ;  that  we  should  never  be  in  such  a  forlorn  condition,  whereia 
there  should  be  ground  of  despair,  considering  our  sius  be  the  sins  of  men, 
his  mercy  the  mercy  of  an  infinite  GuJ.  But  thcuigh  it  be  a  truth  clearer 
than  the  sunbeams,  that  a  broken-hearted  sinner  ought  to  embrace  mercy 
BO  strongly  enforced  ;  yet  there  is  no  truth  that  the  heart  shutteth  itself 
more  against  than  this,  especially  in  sense  of  misery,  when  the  soul  is  fittest 
for  mercy,  until  the  Holy  Spirit  sprinkleth  the  conscience  with  the  blood  of 
Christ,  and  sheddeth  his  love  into  the  heart,  that  so  the  blood  of  Christ  in 
the  conscience  may  cry  louder  than  the  guUt  of  sin ;  for  only  God's  Spirit 
can  raise  the  conscience  with  comfort  above  guUt,  because  he  only  is  greater 
than  the  conscience.  Men  may  speak  comfort,  but  it  is  Christ's  Spirit  that  can 
only  comfort.  Peace  is  fiie  fruit  of  the  lips,  but  yet  created  to  be  so,  Isa.  Ivii. 
19.  No  creature  can  take  off  wrath  from  the  conscience,  but  he  that  set  it  on, 
though  all  the  prevailing  arguments  be  used  that  can  be  brought  forth,  till 
the  Holy  Ghost  effectually  persuadeth,  by  a  divine  kind  of  rhetoric,  which 
ought  to  raise  up  our  hearts  to  him  who  is  the  comforter  of  his  people,  that 
he  would  seal  them  to  our  souls.  Now  God  dealing  with  men  as  under- 
standing creatures,  the  manner  which  he  useth  in  this  powerful  work  upon 
their  consciences,  is  by  way  of  friendly  intercourse,  as  entreaty  and  persua- 
sion, and  discovery  of  his  love  in  Christ,  and  Christ's  gracious  inclination 
thus  even  to  the  weakest  and  lowest  of  men.  Loquitur  Dens  ad  modum 
nosti-um,  agit  ad  modum  suum.  And,  therefore,  because  he  is  pleased  by 
such  like  motives  to  enter  into  the  heart  and  settle  a  peace  there,  we  ought 
with  reverence  to  regard  all  such  sanctified  helps,  and  among  the  rest  this 
of  making  use  of  this  comfortable  description  of  Christ  by  God  the  Father, 
in  going  boldly  in  all  necessities  to  the  throne  of  grace.  But  we  must 
know  this  comfort  is  only  the  portion  of  those  that  give  up  themselves  to 
Christ's  government,  that  are  willing  in  all  things  to  be  disposed  of  by  him. 
For  here  we  see  in  this  Scripture  both  joined  together,  mercy  to  bruised 
reeds,  and  yet  government  prevailing  by  degrees  over  corruptions.  Christ 
*>o  favoureth  weak  ones,  as  that  he  frameth  their  souls  to  a  better  condition 


40  TO  THE  CHEISTIAN  EEADEE. 

than  they  are  in.  Neither  can  it  be  otherwise,  but  that  a  soul  looking  for 
mercy  should  submit  itself  at  the  same  time  to  be  guided.  Those  relations 
of  husband,  head,  shepherd,  &c.,  imply  not  only  meekness  and  mercy,  but 
government  hkewise.  When  we  become  Christians  to  purpose,  we  Uve  not 
exempt  from  all  service,  but  only  we  change  our  Lord.  Therefore,  if  any 
in  an  ill  course  of  life  snatch  comforts  before  they  are  reached  out  unto 
them,  let  them  know  they  do  it  at  their  own  perils.  It  is  as  if  some  igno- 
rant man  should  come  into  an  apothecary's  shop,  stored  with  variety  of 
medicines  of  all  sorts,  and  should  take  what  comes  next  to  hand,  poison 
perhaps,  instead  of  physic.  There  is  no  word  of  comfort  in  the  whole  book 
of  God  intended  for  such  as  regard  iniquity  in  their  hearts,  Ps.  Ixvi.  18 ; 
though  they  do  not  act  it  in  their  lives.  Their  only  comfort  is,  that  the 
sentence  of  damnation  is  not  executed,  and  thereupon  there  is  yet  oppor- 
tunity of  safer  thoughts  and  resolutions,  otherwise  they  stand  not  only  con- 
victed but  condemned  by  the  word  ;  and  Christ  that  rideth  on  the  white  horse, 
Rev.  vi.  2,  wiU  spend  all  his  arrows  upon  them,  and  wound  them  to  death. 
If  any  shall  bless  himself  in  an  ill  way,  God's  wrath  shall  bum  to  heU 
against  such.  There  is  no  more  comfort  to  be  expected  from  Christ,  than 
there  is  care  to  please  him.  Otherwise  to  make  him  an  abettor  of  a  law- 
less and  loose  life,  is  to  transform  him  into  a  fancy,  nay,  into  the  likeness 
of  him  whose  works  he  came  to  destroy,  1  John  iii.  8,  which  is  the  most 
detestable  idolatry  of  all.  One  way  whereby  the  Spirit  of  Christ  prevaileth 
in  his,  is  to  preserve  them  from  such  thoughts ;  yet  we  see  people  will 
frame  a  divinity  to  themselves,  pleasing  to  the  flesh,  suitable  to  their  own 
ends,  which,  being  vain  in  the  substance,  will  prove  likewise  vain  in  the 
fruit,  and  as  a  building  upon  the  sand. 

The  main  scope  of  all,  is,  to  allure  us  to  the  entertainment  of  Christ's 
mild,  safe,  wise,  victorious  government,  and  to  leave  men  naked  of  aU  pre- 
tences, why  they  will  not  have  Christ  to  rule  over  them,  when  we  see  sal- 
vation not  only  strongly  wrought,  but  sweetly  dispensed  by  him.  His 
government  is  not  for  his  own  pleasure,  but  for  our  good.  We  are  saved 
by  a  way  of  love,  that  love  might  be  kindled  by  this  way  in  us  to  God 
again ;  because  this  affection  melteth  the  soul,  and  mouldeth  it  to  aU  duty 
and  acceptable  manner  of  performance  of  duty.  It  is  love  in  duties  that 
God  regards,  more  than  duties  themselves.  This  is  the  true  and  evangelical 
disposition  arising  from  Christ's  love  to  us,  and  our  love  to  him  again  ;  and 
not  to  fear  to  come  to  him,  as  if  we'  were  to  take  an  elephant  by  the  tooth. 
It  is  almost  a  fundamental  mistake,  to  think  that  God  delights  in  slavish 
fears,  whenas  the  fruits  of  Christ's  kingdom  are  peace  and  joy  in  the  Holy 
Ghost :  for  from  this  mistake  come  weak,  slavish,  superstitious  conceits. 

Two  things  trouble  the  peace  of  Chi-istians  very  much  (1),  their  weak- 
nesses hanging  upon  them,  and  (2)  fear  of  holding  out  for  time  to  come. 
A  remedy  against  both  is  in  this  text,  for  Christ  is  set  out  here  as  a  mild 
Saviour  to  weak  ones  ;  and,  for  time  to  come,  his  powerful  care  and  love  is 
never  interrupted,  until  he  bring  forth  judgment  to  victory.  And  there- 
upon it  is  that  both  the  means  of  salvation  and  grace  wrought  by  means, 
and  glory  the  perfection  of  grace,  come  all  under  one  name  of  the  kingdom 
OF  God  so  oft ;  because  whom  by  means  he  brings  to  grace,  he  will  by 
grace  bring  to  glory. 

This  makes  *  the  thoughts  of  the  latter  judgment  comfortable  unto  us, 
that  he  who  is  then  to  be  our  judge,  cannot  but  judge  for  them  who  have 
been  ruled  by  him  here ;  for  whom  he  guides  by  his  counsel,  those  he 
*  '  Maketh,'  in  A  and  B. 


TO  THE  CHRISTIAN  READER.  41 

brings  to  glory,  Ps.  Ixxiii.  24.     If  our  faith  were  but  aa  firm  as  our  state  in 
Christ  is  secure  and  glorious,  what  manner  of  men  should  we  be  ? 

If  I  had  gone  about  to  affect  writing  in  a  high  strain,  I  should  have 
missed  of  mine  end,  and  crossed  the  argument  in  hand.  For  shaU  we  that 
are  servants  quench  those  weak  sparks  which  our  Lord  himself  is  pleased  to 
cherish  ?  I  had  rather  hazard  the  censure  of  some,  than  hinder  the  good 
of  others  ;  which,  if  it  be  any  ways  furthered  by  these  few  observations,  I 
have  what  I  aimed  at.  I  intended  not  a  treatise,  but  opening  of  a  text ; 
what  I  shall  be  drawn  to  do  in  this  kind  must  be  by  degrees,  as  leisure  in 
the  midst  of  many  interruptions  will  permit :  the  Lord  guide  our  hearts, 
tongues,  and  pens  for  his  glory  and  the  good  of  his  people. 

KICHAEJ)  SIBBES. 


THE  BRUISED  REED  AND  SMOKING  FLAX. 


A  bruised  reed  shall  he  not  break,  and  smoking  flax  shall  he  not  quench,  till 
he  send  forth  judgment  unto  victory. — Matt.  xii.  20. 


[Chapter  I. — The  Text  opened  and  divided.     What  the  Reed  is,  and  what 

the  Bruising.] 

The  prophet  Isaiah  being  lifted  up,  and  carried  with  the  wing  of  propheti- 
cal spirit,  passeth  over  all  the  time  between  him  and  the  appearing  of  Jesus 
Christ  in  the  flesh,  and  seeth  with  the  eye  of  prophecy,  and  with  the  eye 
of  faith,  Christ  as  present,  and  presenteth  him,  in  the  name  of  God,  to  the 
spii'itual  eye  of  others,  in  these  words  :  '  Behold  my  servant  whom  I  have 
chosen,'  &c.,  Isa.  xliii.  10.  Which  place  is  alleged  by  Saint  Matthew  as 
ftdfilled  now  in  Christ,  Matt.  xii.  18.     Wherein  is  propounded — ■ 

First,  the  calling  of  Christ  to  his  office. 

Secondly,  the  execution  of  it. 

I.  For  his  calling:  God  styleth  him  here  his  righteous  servant,  &c. 
Christ  was  God's  servant  in  the  greatest  piece  of  service  that  ever  was ;  a 
chosen,  and  a  choice  servant :  he  did  and  suffered  all  by  commission  from 
the  Father :  wherein  we  may  see  the  sweet  love  of  God  to  us,  that  counts 
the  work  of  our  salvation  by  Christ  his  greatest  service ;  and  that  he  will 
put  his  only  beloved  Son  to  that  service.  He  might  well  prefix  Behold,  to 
raise  up  our  thoughts  to  the  highest  pitch  of  attention  and  admiration.  In 
time  of  temptation,  misgiving  consciences  look  so  much  to  the  present 
trouble  they  are  in,  that  they  need  be  roused  up  to  behold  him  in  whom 
they  may  find  rest  for  their  distressed  souls.  In  temptations  it  is  safest  to 
behold  nothing  but  Christ  the  true  brazen  serpent,  the  true  Lamb  of  God 
that  taketh  away  the  sins  of  the  ivorkl,  John  i.  29.  This  saving  object  hath 
a  special  influence  of  comfort  into  the  soul,  especially  if  we  look  not  only 
on  Christ,  but  upon  the  Father's  authority  and  love  in  him.  For  in  all 
that  Christ  did  and  suffered  as  Mediator,  we  must  see  God  in  him  recon- 
ciling the  world  unto  himself,  2  Cor.  v.  19. 

What  a  support  to  our  faith  is  this,  that  God  the  Father,  the  party 
offended  by  our  sins,  is  so  well  pleased  with  the  work  of  redemption  !  And 
what  a  comfort  is  this,  that  seeing  God's  love  resteth  on  Christ,  as  well 


THE  BRUISED  EEED  AND  SMOKING  FLAX.  ^  43 

pleased  in  him,  we  may  gather  that  he  is  as  well  pleased  with  us,  if  we  be 
in  Christ !  For  his  love  resteth  in  whole  Christ,  in  Christ  mystical,  as  well 
as  Christ  natural,  because  he  loveth  him  and  us  with  one  love.  Let  us, 
therefore,  embrace  Christ,  and  in  him  God's  love,  and  build  our  faith  safely 
on  such  a  Saviour,  that  is  furnished  with  so  high  a  commission. 

See  here,  for  our  comfort,  a  sweet  agreement  of  all  three  persons :  the 
Father  giveth  a  commission  to  Christ ;  the  Spirit  fumisheth  and  sanctifieth 
to  it ;  Chi'ist  himself  executeth  the  ofl&ce  of  a  Mediator.  Our  redemption 
is  founded  upon  the  joint  agreement  of  all  three  persons  of  the  Trinity. 

n.  For  the  execution  of  this  his  calling,  it  is  set  down  here  to  be  modest, 
without  making  a  noise,  or  raising  dust  by  any  pompous  coming,  as  princes 
use  to  do.  '  His  voice  shall  not  be  heard.'  His  voice  indeed  was  heard,  but 
what  voice  ?  '  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  are  weary  and  heavy  laden,'  Mat. 
xi.  28.  He  cried,  but  how?  '  Ho,  every  one  that  thirsteth,  come,'  &c.,  Isa. 
Iv.  1.  And  as  his  coming  was  modest,  so  it  was  mild,  which  is  set  down  in 
these  words  :  The  bruised  reed  shall  he  not  break,  &c.  Wherein  we  may 
observe  these  three  things  : — 

First,  The  condition  of  those  that  Christ  had  to  deal  withal.  (1.)  They 
yfeve  bruised  reeds  ;  (2.)  smoking  flax. 

Secondly,  Christ's  carriage  toward*  them.  He  brake  not  the  bruised  reed, 
nor  quenched  the  smoking  flax :  where  more  is  meant  than  spoken ;  for  he 
will  not  only  not  break  the  bruised  reed,  nor  quench,  &c.,  but  he  will  cherish 
them. 

Thirdly,  The  constancy  and  progress  of  this  his  tender  care,  '  until  judg- 
ment come  to  victonj — that  is,  until  the  sanctified  frame  of  grace  begun  in 
their  hearts  be  brought  to  that  perfection,  that  it  prevaileth  over  all  opposite 
corruption. 

1.  For  the  first,  the  condition  of  men  whom  he  was  to  deal  withal  is, 
that  they  were  bruised  reeds,  and  smoking  flax ;  not  trees,  but  reeds ;  and 
not  whole,  but  bruised  reeds.  The  church  is  compa,red  to  weak  things ; 
to  a  dove  amongst  the  fowls;  to  a  vine  amongst  tne  plants;  to  _shee£ 
amongst  the  blasts j  to  a  woman,  whicEHF  the  weaker  vess"el :  and  here 
God's  cWdren  are  compared"  to  bruised  reeds  and  smoking  flax.  First,t 
we  will  speak  of  them  as  they  are  bruisea  reeas,  and  !ES~as  smoking  flax. 
They  are  bi-uised  reeds  before  their  conversion,  and  oftentimes  after: 
before  conversion  all  (except  such  as  being  bred  up  in  the  church,  God  hath 
delighted  to  shew  himself  gracious  unto  from  their  childhood),  yet  in  dif- 
ferent degrees,  as  God  seeth  meet ;  and  as  diflerence  is  in  regai-d  of  tem- 
per, parts,  manner  of  hfe,  &c.,  so  in  God's  intendment  of  employment  foi 
the  time  to  come ;  for  usually  he  empties  such  of  themselves,  and  makes 
them  nothing,  before  he  will  use  them  in  any  great  services. 

(1.)  This  bruised  reed  is  a  man  that  for  the  most  part  is  in  some  misery, 
as  those  were  that  came  to  Christ  for  help,  and  (2)  by  misery  is  brought  to 
see  sin  the  cause  of  it ;  for  whatsoever  pretences'  sin  maketh,  yet  bruismg  or 
breaking  is  the  end  of  it ;  (3)  he  is  sensible  of  sin  and  misery,  even  unto 
bmising ;  and  (4),  seeing  no  help  m  himself,  is  carried  with  restless  desire 
to  have  supply  from  another,  with  some  hope,  which  a  httle  raiseth  him 
out  of  himself  to  Christ,  though  he  dareth  not  claim  any  present  interest 
of  mercy.  This  spark  of  hope  being  opposed  by  doubtings,  and  fears 
rising  from  corruption,  maketh  him  as  smoking  flax ;  so  that  both  these 
together,  a  bruised  reed  and  smoking  flax,  make  up  the  state  of  a  poor  dis- 
*  '  Towards,'  in  A  and  B,  t  '  -A-nd  first,'  in  A  and  B. 


44  THE  BRUISED  REED 

tressed  man.  Such  an  one  as  our  Saviour  Christ  termeth  poor  in  spirit, 
Mat.  V.  3,  who  seeth  a  want,  and  withal  seeth  himself  indebted  to  divine 
justice,  and  no  means  of  supply  from  himself  or  the  creature,  and  there- 
upon mourns,  and  upon  some  hope  of  mercy  from  the  promise  and  examples 
of  those  that  have  obtained  mercy,  is  stirred  up  to  hunger  and  thirst  after  it. 


[Chapter  II. — Those  that  Christ  hath  to  do  withal  are  Bruised.'] 

This  bruising  is  required  fH  before  conversion  (1),  that  so  the  Spirit  may 
make  way  for  itself  into  the  heart  by  levelling  all  proud,  high  thoughts, 
and  that  we  may  understand  ourselves  to  be  what  indeed  we  are  by  nature. 
We  love  to  wander  from  ourselves  and  to  be  strangers  at  home,  till  God 
bruiseth  us  by  one  cross  or  other,  and  then  we  bethink  ourselves,  and  come 
home  to  ourselves  with  the  prodigal  (Luke  xv.  17.) 

A  marvellous  hard  thing  it  is  to  bring  a  dull  and  a  shifting  heart  to  cry 
with  feeling  for  mercy.  Our  hearts,  like  malefactors,  until  they  be  beaten 
from  all  shifts,  never  cry  for  the  mercy  of  the  Judge.  Again  (2),  this 
bruising  maketh  us  set  a  high  price  upon  Christ.  The  gospel  is  the  gospel 
indeed  then ;  then  the  fig-leaves  of  morality  wiU  do  us  no  good.  And  (3) 
it  maketh  us  more  thankful,  and  (4)  from  thankfulness  more  fruitful  in  our 
lives ;  for  what  maketh  many  so  cold  and  barren,  but  that  bruising  for  sin 
never  endeared  God's  grace  unto  them  ?  Likewise  (5),  this  deahng  of  God 
doth  establish  us  the  more  in  his  ways,  having  had  knocks  and  bruisings 
in  our  own  ways.  This  is  the  cause  oft  of  relapses  and  apostasies,  because 
men  never  smarted  for  sin  at  the  first ;  they  were  not  long  enough  under 
the  lash  of  the  law.  Hence  this  inferior  work  of  the  Spirit  in  hinging 
down  high  thoughts,  2  Cor.  x.  5,  is  necessary  before  conversion.  And,  for 
the  most  part,  the  Holy  Spirit,  to  further  the  work  of  conviction,  joiaeth 
some  afiliction,  which,  sanctified,  hath  a  healing  and  purging  power. 

Nay,  [2]  after  conversion  we  need  bruising,  that  (1)  xaads  may  know! 
themselves  to  be  reeds,  and  not  oaks ;  even  reeds  need  bruising,  by  reason 
of  the  remainder  of  pride  in  our  nature,  and  to  let  us  see  that  we  live  by 
mercy.     And  (2)  that  weaker  Christians  may  not  be  too  much  discouraged  j 
when  they  see  stronger  sJiaken  and  bruised.     Thus  Peter  was  bruised  when  | 
he  wept  bitterly,  Matt.  xxvi.  75.     This  reed,  till  he  met  with  this  bruise,  i 
had  more  wind  in  him  than  pith.'    '  Though  all  forsake  thee,  I  will  not, 
&c..  Matt.  xxvi.  35.     The  people  of  God  cannot  be  without  these  examples. 
The  heroical  deeds  of  those  great  worthies  do  not  comfort  the  church  so 
much  as  their  falls  and  bruises  do.     Thus  David  was  bruised,  Ps.  xxxii.^ 
^  3-5 f  ;mtil  he  came  to  a  fr^ft  cnrifession,_without_guile  of  spirit ;  nay,  his 
sorrows  did  rise  in  his  own  feeling  unto  ffie  exquisite  pain  oiPbreaJdng  of 
"bones,  Ps.  U.  8.     TEus^  Hezekiah  complains  that  God  had  '  broken  his 
bones'  as  a  lion,  Isa.  xxxviii.  ly.     Thus  the  chosen  vessel  St  Paul  needed 
the  messenger  of  Satan  to  buffet  him,  lest  he  should  be  lifted  up  above 
measure,  2  Cor.  xii.  7. 

Hence  we  leam  that  we  must  not  pass  too  harsh  judgment  upon  our- 
selves or  others  when  God  doth  exercise  us  with  bruising  upon  bruising ; 
there  must  be  a  conformity  to  our  head,  Christ,  who  *  was  bruised  for  us,* 
Isa.  liii.  5,  that  we  may  know  how  much  we  are  bound  unto  him.  Pro- 
fane spirits,  ignorant  of  God's  ways  in  bringing  his  children  to  heaven, 
censure  broken-hearted  Christians  for  desperate  persons,  whenas  God 
is  about  a  gracious  good  work  with  them.     It  is  no  easy  matter  to  bring  a 


AND  SMOKING  FLAX. 


45 


man  from  nature  to  grace,  and  from  grace  to  glory,  so  unyielding  and  un- 

tractable  are  our  hearts.  Q     < 

[Chapteb  III. — Christ  tvill  not  Break  the  Bruised  Beed.']  »|\  0^ 

2.  The  second  point  is,  that  Christ  will  not  'break  the  bruised  repri-    Phy- 
sicians, though  they  put  their  patients  to  much  pain,  yet  they  will  not  de- 
stroy nature,  but  raise  it  up  by  degrees.     Chirurgeons  *  will  lance  and  cut, 
but  not  dismember.     A  mother  that  hath  a  sick  and  froward  child  will  not 
therefore  cast  it  away.     And  shall  there  be  more  mercy  in  the  stream  than 
in  the  spriag  ?     Shall  we  think  there  is  more  mercy  in  ourselves  than  in 
God,  who  planteth  the  affection  of  mercy  in  us  ?     But  for  farther  declara- 
tion of  Christ's  mercy  to  all  bruised  reeds,  consider  the  comfortable  rela- 
tions he  hath  taken  upon  him  of  husband,  shepherd,  brother,  &c.,  which 
he  will  discharge  to  the  utmost ;  for  shall  others  by  his  grace  fulfil  what  he 
calleth  them  unto,  and  not  he  that,  out  of  his  love,  hath  taken  upon  him 
these  relations,  so  thoroughly  founded  upon  his  Father's  assignment,  and 
his  own  voluntary  undertaking  ?     Consider  his  borrowed  names  from  the 
mildest  creatures,  as  lamb,  hen,  &c.,  to  shew  his  tender  care ;  consider  his 
very  name  Jesus,  a  Saviour,  given  him  by  God  himself ;  consider  his  office 
answerable  to  his  name,  which  is  that  he  should  '  heal  the  broken-hearted,' 
Isa.  Ixi.  1.     At  his  baptism  the  Holy  Ghost  sate  on  him  in  the  shape  of  a 
dove,  to  shew  that  he  should  be  a  dove-like,  gentle  Mediator.     See  the 
gracious  manner  of  executing  his  offices.     As  a  prophet,  he  came  with 
blessing  in  his  mouth,  '  Blessed  be  the  poor  in  spirit,'  &c..  Matt.  v.  3,  and 
invited  those  to  come  to  him  whose  hearts  suggested  most  exceptions 
against  themselves,  '  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  are  weary  and  heavy  laden,' 
Matt.  xi.  28.     How  did  his  bowels  yearn  when  '  he  saw  the  people  as 
sheep  without  a  shepherd  ! '  Matt.  ix.  36.     He  never  turned  any  back  again 
that  came  unto  him,  though  some  went  away  of  themselves.     He  came  to 
die  as  a  priest  for  his  enemies.     In  the  days  of  his  flesh  he  dictated  a  form 
of  prayer  unto  his  disciples,  and  put  petitions  unto  God  into  their  mouths, 
and  his  Spirit  to  intercede  in  their  hearts  ;  and  now  makes  intercession  in 
heaven  for  weak  Christians,  standing  between  God's  anger  and  them ;  and 
shed  tears  for  those  that  shed  his  blood.     So  he  is  a  meek  King ;  he  wiU 
admit  mourners  into  his  presence,  a  king  of  poor  and  afflicted  persons :  as 
he  hath  beams  of  majesty,  so  he  hath  bowels  of  mercies  and  compassion  ; 
•  a  prince  of  peace,'  Isa.  ix.  6.     Why  was  he  '  tempted,  but  that  he  might 
succour  those  that  are  tempted,'  Heb.  ii.  18.     What  mercy  may  we  not 
expect  from  so  gracious  a  mediator,  1  Tim.  ii.  5,  that  took  our  nature  upon 
him  that  he  might  be  gracious.     He  is  a  physician  good  at  all  diseases, 
especially  at  the  binding  up  of  a  broken  heart ;  he  died  that  he  might  heal 
our  souls  with  a  plaster  of  his  own  blood,  and  by  that  death  save  us,  which 
we  were  the  procurers  of  ourselves,  by  our  own  sins  ;  and  hath  he  not  the 
same  bowels  in  heaven  ?     *  Saul,  Saul,  why  persecutest  thou  me  ?'  Acts 
ix.  4,  cried  the  head  in  heaven,  when  the  foot  was  trodden  on,  on  earth. 
His  advancement  hath  not  made  him  forget  his  own  flesh  ;  though  it  has 
freed  him  from  passion,  yet  not  from  compassion  towards  us.     The  lion  of 
the  tribe  of  Judah  will  only  tear  in  pieces  those  that  '  will  not  have  him 
rule  over  them,'  Luke  xix.  17.     He  will  not  shew  his  strength  against  those 
that  prostrate  themselves  before  him. 

*  '  Surgeons,'  in  A  and  B. 


4g  THE  BBUISED  REED 

Use  1.  What  should  we  leam  from  hencf?,  hpi  <  in  cnm^  hn\(\}j  in  j.^a 
throne  of  ^ace^'  Heb.  iv.  Iti,  in  all  our  grieTances  ?  ShaU  our  sins  dig- 
"courawe  us,  when  he  appears  there  only  for  sinners  ?  Art  thou  bruised  ? 
Be  of°good  comfort,  he  calleth  thee  ;  conceal  not  thy  wounds,  open  all  be- 
fore him,  keep  not  Satan's  counsel.  Go  to  Christ  though  trembling ;  as 
the  poor  woman,  if  we  can  but '  touch  the  hem  of  his  garment,'  Matt.  ii.  20, 
we  shall  be  healed  and  have  a  gracious  answer.  Go  boldlv  to  God  in  our 
flesh ;  for  this  end  that  we  might  go  boldly  to  him,  he  is  flesh  of  our  flesh, 
and  bone  of  our  bone.  Never  fear  to  go  to  God,  since  we  have  such  a 
Mediator  with  him,  that  is  not  only  our  fiiend,  but  our  brother  and  husband. 
Well  might  the  angels  proclaim  from  heaven,  *  Behold,  we  bring  you  tidings 
of  joy,'  Luke  ii.  10.  Well  might  the  apostle  stir  us  up  to  '  rejoice  in  the 
Lord  again  and  again,'  Phil.  iv.  4  :  he  was  well  advised  upon  what  grounds 
he  did  it.  Peace  and  joy  are  two  main  fruits  of  his  kingdom.  Let  the 
world  be  as  it  will,  if  we  cannot  rejoice  in  the  world,  yet  we  may  rejoice  in 
the  Lord.  His  presence  maketh  any  condition  comfortable.  •  Be  not 
afraid,'  saith  he  to  his  disciples,  when  they  were  afraid  as  if  they  had  seen 
a  ghost,  '  it  is  I,'  Matt.  xiv.  27,  as  if  there  were  no  cause  of  fear  where  he 
is  present. 

Use  2.  Let  this  stay  us  when  we  feel  ourselves  bruised.  Christ  his  course 
is  first  to  wound,  then  to  heal.  No  sound,  whole  soul  sHall  ever  enter  into 
heaven.  Think  in  temptation,  Christ  was  tempted  for  me  ;  according  to 
my  trials  will  be  my  graces  and  comforts.  If  Christ  be  so  merciful  as  not 
to  break  me,  I  will  not  break  myself  by  despair,  nor  yield  myself  over  to 
the  roaring  Uon  Satan,  to  break  me  in  pieces. 

Use  3.  Thirdly.  See  the  contrary  disposition  of  Christ,  and  Satan  and  his 
instrument  Satan  setteth  upon  us  when  we  are  weakest,  as  SimeOii  and. 
Levi  upon  "the  '  Shechemites,  when  they  were  sore,'  Gen.  xxxiv.  25  ;  but 
Christ  wiU  make  up  ia  us  all  the  breaches  sin  and  Satan  have  made ;  he 
'binds  up  the  broken-hearted,'  Isa.  Ixi.  1.  And  as  a  mother  tendereth 
most  the  most  diseased  and  weakest  child,  so  doth  Christ  most  mercifully 
incline  to  the  weakest,  and  hkewise  putteth  an  instinct  into  the  weakest 
things  to  rely  upon  something  stronger  than  themselves  for  support.  The 
vine  stayeth  itself  upon  the  elm,  and  the  weakest  creatures  have  oft  the 
strongest  shelters.  The  consciousness  of  the  church's  weakness  makes  her 
willing  to  lean  on  her  beloved,  and  to  hide  herself  under  his  wing. 


[Chapter  IV. — Signs  of  one  truly  hridsed. — Means  and  measure  of  bruising, 
and  comfort  to  such.] 

Objection.  But  how  shall  we  know  whether  we  are  such  as  those  that 
may  expect  mercy  ? 

Answer  1.  By  bruising  here  is  not  meant  those  th,at  are  brought  low_only 
bycrosses.  but  such  as  by  them  are  brought  to  see  their  sin,  whicKl)ruiseth 
iSost  of  alL  Wben  conscience  is  under  the  guilForsih,  then  every  judgment 
brings  a  report  of  God's  anger  to  the  soul,  and  all  less*  troubles  run  into 
this  great  trouble  of  conscience  for  sin.  As  all  corrupt  humours  run  to 
the  diseased  and  bruised  part  of  the  body,  and  as  every  creditor  falls  upon 
the  debtor  when  he  is  once  arrested,  so  when  conscience  is  once  awaked, 
all  former  sins  and  present  crosses  join  together  to  make  the  bruise  the 
more  pamful.  Now,  he  that  is  thus  bruised  will  be  content  with  nothing 
*  '  Lesser,'  iu  A  and  B. 


AND  SMOKING  FLAX.  47 

but  with  mercy  from  him  that  hath  bruised  him,  '  He  hath  wounded,  and 
he  must  heal,'  Isa.  Ixi.  1.  Lord,  thou  hast  bruised  me  deservedly  for  my 
sins,  bind  up  my  heart  again,*  &c.  2.  Again,  a  man  truly  V»mippf|  jn<^gAt.Ti 
sin  the  greatest  evil,.  flTid  tb^  favour  of  GFod  tUe  greatest  good.  3.  He  had 
rather  hear  of  mercy^an  of  a  kingdom:  f.  He  haLh  mtj^n  conceits  of 
himself,  and  thinketh  he  is  not  worth  the  earth  he  treads  on.  5.  Towards 
others  he  is  not  censorious,  as  being  taken  up  at  home,  but  is  full  of  sym- 
pathy and  compassion  to  those  that  are  under  God's  hand.  6.  He  thinketh 
those  that  walk  in  the  comforts  of  God's  Spirit  the  happiest  men  of  the 
world.  7.  '  He  trembleth  at  the  word  of  God,'  Isa.  Ixvi.  2,  and  honoureth 
the  very  feet  of  those  blessed  instruments  that  bring  peace  unto  him,  Rom. 
X.  15.  8,  He  is  more  taken  up  with  the  inward  exercises  of  a  broken 
heart  than  with  formality,  and  yet  careful  to  use  all  sanctified  means  to 
convey  comfort. 

Question.  But  how  shall  we  come  to  have  this  temper  ? 

Answer.  J^'u-st,  we  must  conceive  of  bruisiag  either  as  a  state  into  which 
God  bringeth  us,  or  as  a  duty  to  be  performed  by  us.  Both  are  here 
meant.  We  must  join  with  God  in  bruising  of  ourselves.  When  he 
humbles  us,  let  us  humble  ourselves,  and  not  stand  out  against  him,  for 
then  he  will  redouble  his  strokes  ;  and  let  us  justify  Christ  in  all  his  chas- 
tisements, knowing  that  all  his  deahng  towards  us  is  to  cause  us  to  return 
into  our  own  hearts.  His  work  in  bruising  tendeth  to  our  work  in  bruising 
ourselves.  Let  us  lament  our  own  untowardness,  and  say.  Lord,  what  an 
heart  have  I  that  needs  all  this,  that  none  of  this  could  be  spared !  We 
must  lay  siege  to  the  hardness  of  our  own  hearts,  and  aggravate  sin  all  we 
can.  We  must  look  on  Christ,  who  was  bruised  for  us,  look  on  him  whom 
we  have  pierced  with  our  sins.  But  all  directions  will  not  prevail,  unless 
God  by  his  Spirit  convinceth  us  deeply,  setting  our  sins  before  us,  and 
driving  us  to  a  stand.  Then  we  will  make  out  for  mercy.  Conviction  will 
breed^contrition,  and  this  humiliation.  Therefore  desire  God  that  he  would 
bring  a  clear  and  a  strong  hgnt  mto  ail  the  corners  of  our  souls,  and  accom- 
pany it  with  a  spirit  of  power  to  lay  our  hearts  low. 

A  set  measure  of  bruising  ourselves  cannot  be  prescribed ;  yet  it  must 
be  so  far,  as  1.  we  Tnay  pn7e  (Christ  above  all,  and  see  that  a  Saviour  must 
be  had ;  and  2,  until  we  reform  that  which  is  amiss,  though  it  he"to  the 
cutting  off  our  right  hand,  or  pulling  out  our  right  eye'T"  There  is  a  dan- 
gerous shghting  of  the  work  of  humiliation,  some  alleging  this  for  a  pre- 
tence for  their  overly  dealing  with  their  own  hearts,  that  Christ  will  not 
break  the  braised  reed ;  but  such  must  know  that  every  sudden  terror  and 
short  grief  is  not  that  which  makes  us  bruised  reeds  ;  not  a  little  hanging 
down  our  heads  like  a  buhtish,  Isa.  Iriii.  5,  but  a  working  our  hearts  to  such 
a  grief  as  wUl  make  sin  more  odious  unto  us  than  punishment,  until  we 
offer  an  holy  violence  against  it ;  else,  favouring  om'selves,  we  make  work 
for  God  to  bruise  us,  and  for  sharp  repentance  afterwards.  It  is  dangerous, 
I  confess,  in  some  cases  with  some  spirits,  to  press  too  much  and  too  long 
this  bruising,  because  they  may  die  under  the  wound  and  burden  before 
they  be  raised  up  again.  Therefore  it  is  good  in  mixed  assemblies  to  mingle 
comfort,  that  every  soul  may  have  its  due  portion.  But  if  we  lay  this 
for  a  ground,  that  there  is  more  mercy  in  Christ  than  sin  in  us,  there  can 
be  no  danger  in  thorough  dealing.  It  is  better  to  go  bruised  to  heaven 
than  sound  to  hell.  Therefore  let  us  not  take  off  ourselves  too  soon,  nor 
pull  off  the  plaster  before  the  cure  be  wrought,  but  keep  ourselves  under 
♦  '  Lord  ....  again,'  not  in  A  and  B,  but  in  E. 


48  THE  BRUISED  EEED 

tliis  work  tai  sin  be  the  sourest,  and  Christ  the  sweetest,  of  all  things.  And 
when  God's  hand  is  upon  us  in  any  kind,  it  is  good  to  divert  our  sorrow 
for  other  things  to  the  root  of  all,  which  is  sin.  Let  our  grief  run  most  in 
that  channel,  that  as  sin  bred  grief,  so  grief  may  consume  sin. 

Quest.  "Ri^t  a,re  we  noiJbiiHasgd  unless  we  grieve  more  for  sin  than  we  do 
for  punishment  ? 

An^t.  Sometimes  our  grief  from  outward  grievances  may  lie  heavier  upon  the 
soul  than  grief  for  God's  displeasure  ;  because  in  such  cases  the  grief  works 
upon  the  whole  man,  both  outward  and  inward,  and  hath  nothing  to  stay 
it,  but  a  little  spark  of  faith  :  which,  by  reason  of  the  violent  impression  of 
the  grievance,  is  suspended  in  the  exercises  of  it :  and  this  is  most  felt  in 
sudden  distresses  which  come  upon  the  soul  as  a  toiTent  or  land-flood,  and 
especially  in  bodily  distempers,  which  by  reason  of  the  sympathy  between 
the  soul  and  the  body,  work  upon  the  soul  so  far  as  they  hinder  not  only 
the  spiritual,  but  often  the  natural  acts.  Hereupon  St  James  wisheth  in 
affliction  to  pray  ourselves,  but  in  case  of  sickness  to  send  for  the  elders, 
James  v.  14 ;  that  may,  as  those  in  the  gospel,  offer  up  the  sick  person  to 
God  in  their  prayers,  being  unable  to  present  their  own  case.  Hereupon 
God  admitteth  of  such  a  plea  from  the  sharpness  and  bitterness  of  the 
grievance,  as  in  David,  Ps.  vi.,  &c.  '  The  Lord  knoweth  whereof  we  are 
made,  he  remembereth  we  are  but  dust,'  Ps.  ciii.  14 ;  that  our  strength  is 
not  the  strength  of  steel.  It  is  a  branch  of  his  faithfulness  unto  us  as  his 
creatures,  whence  he  is  called 'a  faithful  Creator,'  1  Pet.  iv.  19;  'Gpdis 
faithfal,  who  will  not  suffer  us  to  be  tempted  above  that  we  are  able.' 
ICor.  X.  lb'  There  were  certam  commandments  which  the  Jews  called 
the  hedges  of  the  law :  as  to  fence  men  off  from  cruelty,  he  commanded 
they  should  '  not  take  the  dam  with  the  young,  nor  seethe  the  kid  in  the 
mother's  milk,'  Exod.  xxiii.  19 ;  '  nor  muzzle  the  mouth  of  the  ox,'  1  Cor. 
ix.  9.  Hath  God  care  of  beasts,  and  not  of  his  more  noble  creature  ?  And 
therefore  we  ought  to  judge  charitably  of  the  complaints  of  God's  people 
which  are  wrung  from  them  in  such  cases.  Job  had  the  esteem  with 
God  of  a  patient  man,  notwithstanding  those  passionate  complaints.  Faith 
overborne  for  the  present  will  get  ground  again ;  and  giief  for  sin,  although 
it  come  short  of  grief  for  misery  in  violence,  yet  it  goeth  beyond  it  in  con- 
stancy ;  as  a  running  stream  fed  with  a  spring  holdeth  out,  when  a  sudden 
swelling  brook  faileth. 

For  the  concluding  of  this  point,  and  our  encouragement  to  a  thorough 
work  of  bruising,  and  patience  under  God's  bruising  of  us,  let  all  know  that 
none  are  fitter  for  comfort  than  those  that  think  themselves  furthest  off. 
Men,  for  the  most  part,  are  not  lost  enough  in  their  own  feeling  for  a 
Saviour.  A  holy  despair  in  ourselves  is  the  ground  of  true  hope,  Hos. 
xiv.  3.  In  God  the  fatherless  find  mercy :  if  men  were  more  fatherless, 
they  should  feel  more  God's  fatherly  affection  from  heaven  ;  for  God  that 
dwelleth  in  highest  heavens,  Isa.  Ixvi.  2,  dwelleth  likewise  iu  the  lowest 
soul.  Christ's  sheep  are  weak  sheep,  and  wanting  in  something  or  other ; 
he  therefore  appheth  himself  to  the  necessities  of  every  sheep.  '  He  seeks 
that  which  was  lost,  and  brings  again  that  which  was  driven  out  of  the 
way,  and  binds  up  that  which  was  broken,  and  strengthens  the  weak,* 
Ezek.  xxxiv.  16 ;  his  tenderest  care  is  over  the  weakest.  The  lambs  he 
carrieth  in  his  bosom,  Isa.  xl.  11 ;  '  Peter,  feed  my  lambs,'  John  xxi.  15. 
He  was  most  famiHar  and  open  to  the  troubled  souls.  How  careful  was 
he  that  Peter  and  the  rest  of  the  apostles  should  not  be  too  much  dejected 
after  his  resurrection  1     '  Go,  tell  the  disciples,  and  tell  Peter,'  Mark  xvi.  7. 


MfT>  SMOKING  FLAX.  49 

Christ  knew  that  guilt  of  their  unkindness  in  leaving  of  him  had  de- 
jected their  spirits.  How  gently  did  he  endure  Thomas  his  unbelief!  and 
stooped  so  far  unto  his  weakness,  as  to  suffer  him  to  thrust  his  hand  into 
his  side  (a). 


[Chapter  V. — Grace  is  little  at  first. 1 

For  the  jp-c<md_  hranch.  God  will  not  quench  the  smoldng  flax,  or  wick, 
Virij,  will  hinw  I'ti  np  till  it  flameth.  In  smoking  flax  there  is  but  a  little  light, 
and  that  weak,  as  being  not  able  to  flame,  and  this  httle  mixed  with  smoke. 

The  observations  hence  are,  first,  That  in  God's  children,  especially  in 
their  first  conversion,  there  is  but  a  little  measure  of  grace,  and  that  little 
mixed  with  much  corruption,  u'hich,  as  smoke,  is  offensive.  Secondly,  That 
Christ  ivill  not  quench  this  smoking  flax. 

Ohs.  1.  For  the  first,  Grace  is  little  at  the  first.  There  are  several  ages 
in  Christians,  some  babes,  some  young  men  :  grace  is  as  'a  grain  of  mus- 
tard seed,'  Matt.  xvii.  20.  Nothing  so  little  as  grace  at  first,  and  nothing 
more  glorious  afterward  :  things  of  gi'eatest  perfection  are  longest  in  coming 
to  their  groAvth.  Man,  the  perfectest  creature,  comes  to  perfection  by  little 
and  little  ;  worthless  things,  as  mushrooms  and  the  like,  like  Jonah's  gourd, 
soon  spring  up,  and  soon  vanish.  A  new  creature  is  the  most  excellent 
fi'ame  in  all  the  world,  therefore  it  groweth  up  by  degrees  ;  we  see  in 
natm-e  that  a  mighty  oak  riseth  of  an  acom.  It  is  with  a  Christian  as  it 
was  with  Christ,  who  sprang  out  of  the  dead  stock  of  Jesse,  out  of  David's 
family,  Isa.  liii.  2.  when  it  was  at  the  lowest,  but  he  grew  up  higher  than 
the  heavens.  It  is  not  with  the  trees  of  righteousness  as  it  was  with  the 
trees  of  paradise,  which  were  created  all  perfect  at  the  first.  The  seeds  of 
all  the  creatures  in  this  goodly  frame  of  the  world  were  hid  in  the  chaos,  in 
that  confused  mass  at  the  first,  out  of  which  God  did  command  all  creatures 
to  arise ;  in  the  small  seeds  of  plants  lie  hid  both  bulk  and  branches,  bud  and 
fruit.  In  a  few  principles  lie  hid  aU  comfortable  conclusions  of  holy  truth. 
All  these  glorious  fireworks  of  zeal  and  holiness  in  the  saints  had  their 
beginning  from  a  few  sparks. 

Let  us  not  therefore  be  discom-aged  at  the  small  beginnings  of  gi'ace, 
but  look  on  om-selves,  as  '  elected  to  be  blameless  and  without  spot,'  Eph. 
i.  4.  Let  us  only  look  on  our  imperfect  beginning  to  enforce  further  strife 
to  perfection,  and  to  keep  us  in  a  low  conceit.  Otherwise,  in  case  of  dis- 
couragement, we  must  consider  ourselves,  as  Christ  doth,  who  looks  on  us 
as  such  as  he  intendeth  to  fit  for  himself.  Christ  valueth  us  by  what  we 
shall  be,  and  by  that  wg  are  elected  unto.  We  call  a  little  plant  a  tree, 
because  it  is  gi'owing  up  to  be  so.  '  Who  is  he  that  despiseth  the  day 
of  little  things  ? '  Zech.  iv.  10.     Christ  would  not  have  us  despise  little  things. 

The  glorious  angels  disdain  not  attendance  on  httle  ones ;  httle  in  their 
own  eyes,  and  little  in  the  eyes  of  the  world. 

Grace,  though  httle  in  quantity,  yet  is  much  in  vigour  and  worth. 

It  is  Christ  that  raiseth  the  worth  of  little  and  mean  places  and  persons. 
Bethlehem  the  least,  Micah  v.  2,  Mat.  ii.  6,  and  yet  not  the  least ;  the 
least  in  itself,  not  the  least  in  respect  Christ  was  bom  there.  The  second 
temple.  Hag.  ii.  9,  came  short  of  the  outward  magnificence  of  the  former ; 
yet  more  glorious  than  the  fii'st,  because  Christ  came  into  it.  The  Lord  of 
the  temple  came  into  his  own  temple.  The  pupil  of  the  eye  is  very  little, 
yet  seeth  a  great  part  of  the  heaven  at  once.     A  pearl,  though  httle,  yet  is 

VOL.  I,  D 


50  THE  BEUISED  REED 

of  mucli  esteem :  nothing  in  the  world  of  so  good  use,  as  the  least  dram  of 
grace.* 


TChapter  VI. — Grace  is  mingled  with  Corruption.'] 

Obs.  2.  But  grace  is  not  only  little,  but  mingled  with  corruption ; 
whereof  it  is,  that  a  Christian  is  said  to  be  smoking  flax.  Whence  we  see, 
that  grace  doth  not  waste  corruption  all  at  once,  hut  some  is  left  to  confiict 
withal.  The  purest  actions  of  the  purest  men  need  Christ  to  perfume  f 
them,  and  so  is  his  office.  When  we  pray,  we  need  to  pray  again  for  Christ 
to  pardon  the  defects  of  them.  See  some  instances  of  this  smoking  flax. 
Moses  at  the  Red  Sea,  being  in  a  great  perplexity,  and  knowing  not  what  to 
say,  or  which  way  to  turn  him,  groaned  to  God :  no  doubt  this  was  a  great 
conflict  in  him.  In  great  distresses  we  know  not  what  to  pray,  but  the 
Spuit  makes  request  with  sighs  that  cannot  be  expressed,  Rom.  viii.  26. 
Broken  hearts  can  yield  but  broken  prayers. 

When  David  was  before  the  king  of  Gath,  1  Sam.  xxi.  13,  and  disfigured 
himself  in  an  uncomely  manner,  in  that  smoke  there  was  some  fire  also ; 
you  may  see  what  an  excellent  psalm  he  makes  upon  that  occasion,  Ps. 
xxxiv.  ;  wherein,  upon  experience,  ver.  18,  he  saith,  '  The  Lord  is  near 
unto  them  that  are  of  a  contrite  spirit.'  Ps.  xxxi.  22,  *  I  said  in  my  haste, 
I  am  cast  out  of  thy  sight ;  there  is  smoke  :  yet  thou  heardest  the  voice  of 
my  prayer;  there  is  fire.'  '  Master,  carest  thou  not  that  we  perish?'  Mat. 
viii.  25,  cry  the  disciples  ;  here  is  smoke  of  infideUty,  yet  so  much  light  of 
faith  as  stirred  them  up  to  pray  to  Chi'ist.  '  Lord,  I  beUeve  : '  there  is  hght ; 
'  but  help  my  unbelief,'  Mark  ix.  24  :  there  is  smoke. 

Jonah  cries,  ii.  4,  '  I  am  cast  out  of  thy  sight :'  there  is  smoke  ;  '  yet  will  I 
I  look  again  to  thy  holy  temple  :'  there  is  light. 

'  0  miserable  man  that  I  am,'  Rom.  vii.  24,  saith  St  Paul  upon  sense  of 
his  corruption  ;  but  yet  breaks  out  into  thanks  to  God  through  Jesus  Christ 
our  Lord. 

*  I  sleep,'  saith  the  Church  in  the  Canticles,  'but  my  heart  wakes,'  Cant.  v. 
2.  In  the  seven  Chm'ches,  which  for  their  Ught  are  called  '  seven  golden 
candlesticks,'  Rev.  ii.  iii.,  most  of  them  had  much  smoke  with  their  Light. 

The  ground  of  this  mixture  is,  that  we  carry  about  us  a  double  principle, 
grace  and  nature.  The  end  of  it  is  especially  to  preserve  us  from  those  two 
dangerous  rocks  which  our  natures  are  prone  to  dash  upon,  secmity  and 
pride  ;  and  to  force  us  to  pitch  our  rest  on  justification,  not  sanctification, 
which,  besides  imperfection,  hath  some  soil. 

Our  spii'itual  fire  is  like  our  ordinary  fire  here  below,  that  is,  mixed  ;  but 
fire  is  most  pure  in  its  own  element  above  ;  so  shall  all  om-  graces  be  when 
we  are  where  we  would  be,  in  heaven,  which  is  om-  proper  element. 

fi^  From  this  mixtiire  it  is,  that  the  people  of  God. have  so  different 
judgments  of  themselves,  looking  sometimes  at  the  work  of  grace,  sometimes 
at  the  remainder  of  corruption,  and  when  they  look  upon  that,  then  they 
think  they  have  no  grace ;  though  they  love  Christ  in  his  ordinances  and 
childi-en,  yet  dare  not  challenge  so  near  acquaintance  as  to  be  his.  Even 
as  a  candle  in  the  socket  sometimes  sheweth  its  light,  and  sometimes  the 
show  of  light  is  lost ;  so  sometimes  well  persuaded  they  are  of  themselves, 
sometimes  at  a  loss. 

•  '  As  the  least  dram  of  grace  w,'  in  A  and  B.  f  '  Perform,'  in  A  and  B. 


AND  SMOKING  FLAX.  51 


[Chapter  VII. — Chnst  will  not  quench  small  and  weak  beginnings.] 

Doct.  Now  for  the  second  observation,  Christ  uill  not  quench  the  smoking 
flax.  First,  because  this  spark  is  from  heaven,  it  is  his  own,  it*  is  kindled 
by  his  own  spirit.  And  secondly,  it  tendeth  to  the  glory  of  his  powerftd 
grace  in  his  children,  that  he  preserveth  light  in  the  midst  of  darkness, — a 
spark  in  the  midst  of  the  swelling  waters  of  corruption. 

There  is  an  especial  blessing  in  that  httle  spark  ;  '  when  wine  is  found  in 
a  cluster,  one  saith.  Destroy  it  not ;  for  there  is  a  blessing  in  it,'  Isa.  Ixv.  8. 
We  see  how  our  Saviour  Christ  bore  with  Thomas  in  his  doubting,  John 
XX.  27  ;  with  the  two  disciples  that  went  to  Emmaus,  who  staggered  '  whether 
he  came  to  redeem  Israel  or  no,'  Luke  xxiv.  21 :  he  quenched  not  that  Uttle  Hght 
in  Peter,  which  was  smothered :  Peter  denied  him,  but  he  denied  not  Peter,  Mat. 
xxvi.  '  If  thou  wilt,  thou  canst,'  said  one  poor  man  in  the  gospel,  Mat.  viii.  2 ; 
'  Lord,  if  thou  canst'  said  another,  Mark  ix.  22 ;  both  were  this  smoking  flax, 
neither  of  both  were  quenched.  If  Christ  had  stood  upon  his  own  greatness, 
he  would  have  rejected  him  that  came  with  his  if,  but  Chi'ist  answers  his  if 
with  a  gracious  and  absolute  grant,  '  I  will,  be  thou  clean.'  The  woman  that 
was  diseased  with  an  issue  did  but  touch,  and  with  a  trembling  hand,  and 
but  the  hem  of  his  garment,  and  yet  went  away  both  healed  and  comforted. 
In  the  seven  churches.  Rev.  ii.  and  iii.,  we  see  he  acknowledgeth  and 
cherisheth  anything  that  was  good  in  them.  Because  the  disciples  slept  of 
infirmity,  being  oppressed  with  grief,  our  Saviour  Christ  frameth  a  com- 
fortable excuse  for  them,  '  The  spirit  is  willing,  but  the  flesh  is  weak,'  Mat. 
xxvi.  41. 

If  Christ  should  not  be  merciful,  he  would  miss  of  his  own  ends ;  '  there  is 
merpy  wjth  thee  that  thou  mayest  be  feared,'  Ps.  cxxx.  4.  Now  all  are 
willing  to  come  under  that  banner  of  love  which  he  spreadeth  over  his  : 
'therefore' to  thee  shall  all  flesh  come,'  Ps.  Ixv.  2.  He  usethmoderation 
and  care_,  '  lest  the  spirit  should  fain|)^foi-eTiim,  and  the  souls  which  he  ha<!Ii 
"made,'  Isa.  Ivii.  16.  Christ's  heart  yearned,  the  text  saith,  '  when  he  saw 
themVithout  meat,  lest  they  should  faint,'  Mat.  xv.  32  ;  much  more  will  he 
have  regard  for  the  preventing  of  our  spiritual  faintings. 

Here  see  the  opposite  disposition  between  the  holy  nature  of  Christ,  and 
the  impure  natm-e  of  man.  Man  for  a  1if,tle  smokp  will  gupriph  tbp  bVl^t ; 
Christ  ever  we  see  cherisheth  even  the  least  beginnings.  How  bare  he  with 
the  many  imperfections  of  his  poor  disciples.  If  he  did  sharply  check  them, 
it  was  in  love,  and  that  they  might  shine  the  brighter.  Can  we  have  a  better 
pattern  to  follow  than  this  of  him  by  whom  we  hope  to  be  saved  ?  '  We 
that  are  strong  ought  to  bear  with  the  iafirmities  of  them  that  are  weak,' 
Rom.  XV.  1.  '  I  become  all  things  to  all  men,  that  I  may  win  some,'  1  Cor. 
ix.  22.  0  that  this  gaining  and  winning  disposition  were  more  in  many ! 
Many,  so  far  as  in  us  lieth,  are  lost  for  want  of  encouragement.  See  how 
that  faithful  fisher  of  men,  St  Paul,  labours  to  catch  his  judge,  '  I  know  thou 
believest  the  prophets,'  Acts  xxvi.  27  ;  and  then  wisheth  all  saving  good, 
but  not  bonds  ;  he  might  have  added  them  too,  but  he  would  not  discourage 
one  that  made  but  an  ofier,  he  would  therefore  wish  Agrippa  only  that  which 
was  good  in  religion.  How  careful  was  our  blessed  Saviour  of  little  ones 
that  they  might  not  be  ofiended.  Mat.  xii.  xiii.  How  doth  he  defend  his 
disciples  from  malicious  imputations  of  the  Pharisees  !  How  careful  not  to 
put  new  wine  into  old  vessels.  Mat.  ix.   17,  not  to  alienate  new  beginners 

*  '  That,'  in  A. 


52  THE  BRUISED  REED 

with  the  austerities  of  reUgion  (as  some  indiscreetly).  0,  saith  he,  they 
shall  have  time  to  fast  when  I  am  gone,  and  strength  to  fast  when  the  Holy 
Ghost  is  come  upon  them. 

It  is  not  the  best  way  to  fall  foul  presently  with  young  beginners  for 
some  lesser  vanities,  but  shew  them  a  more  excellent  way,  and  breed  them 
up  in  positive  gi'ounds,  and  other  things  will  be  quickly  out  of  credit  with 
them.  It  is  not  amiss  to  conceal  their  wants,  to  excuse  some  failings,  to 
commend  their  performances,  to  cherish  their  towardness,  to  remove  aU 
rubs  out  of  their  way,  to  help  them  every  way  to  bear  the  yoke  of  religion 
with  greater  ease,  to  bring  them  in  love  with  God  and  his  service,  lest  they 
distaste  it  before  they  know  it.  For  the  most  part  we  see  Christ  planteth 
in  young  beginners  a  love  which  we  call  '  the  first  love,'  Rev.  ii.  4,  to  carry 
them  through  their  profession  with  more  deUght,  and  doth  not  expose  them 
to  crosses  before  they  have  gathered  strength ;  as  we  breed  up  young  plants, 
and  fence  them  fi'om  the  weather,  until  they  be  rooted.*  Mercy  to  others 
should  move  us  to  deny  ourselves  in  our  lawful  liberties  oftentimes,  in  case 
of  oflence  of  weak  ones;  it  is-the  'little  ones  that  are  offended, 'Matt,  xviii.  6. 
The  weakest  are  aptest  to  think  themselves  despised,  therefore  we  should  be 
most  careful  to  give  them  content. 

It  were  a  good  strife  amongst  Christians,  one  to  labour  to  give  no  oflfence, 
and  the  other  to  labour  to  take  none.  The  best  men  are  severe  to  them- 
selves, tender  over  others. 

Yet  people  should  not  tire  and  wear  out  the  patience  of  others :  nor 
should  the  weaker  so  far  exact  moderation  from  others,  as  to  bear  out  them- 
selves upon  their  indulgence,  and  so  to  rest  in  their  own  infirmities,  with 
danger  to  their  own  souls,  and  scandal  to  the  church. 

Neitherf  hereupon  must  they  set  light  by  the  gifts  of  God  in  others, 
which  grace  teacheth  to  honour  wheresoever  they  are  found,  but  know  their 
parts  and  place,  and  not  enterprise  anything  above  their  measure,  which 
may  make  their  persons  and  their  case  obnoxious  to  scorn.  When  blindness^^ 
and  boldness,  ignorance  and  arrogance,  wealmess  and  wilfulness,  meet 
together  in  one,  it  renders  men  odious  to  God,  it  maketh  men  burdensome 
in  society,  dangerous  in  their  counsels,  troublers  of  better  designs,  untract- 
able  and  uncapable  of  better  direction,  miserable  in  the  issue :  where  Christ 
sheweth  his  gracious  power  in  weakness,  he  doth  it  by  letting  men  under- 
stand themselves  so  far  as  to  breed  humihty,  and  magnifying  of  God's  love  to 
such  as  they  are :  he  doth  it  as  a-  preservative  against  discouragements 
from  weakness,  seeing  it  bringeth  men  into  a  less  distance  from  grace,  as 
being  an  advantage  to  poverty  of  spirit,  than  greatness  of  condition  and 
parts,  which  yield  to  corrapt  nature  fuel  for  pride.  Christ  refuseth  none 
for  weakness  of  parts,  that  none  should  be  discouraged  ;  accepteth  of  none 
for  greatness,  that  none  should  be  lifted  up  with  that  which  is  of  so  little 
reckoning  with  God.  It  is  no  great  matter  how  dull  the  scholar  be,  when 
Christ  taketh  upon  him  to  be  the  teacher  :  who  as  he  prescribeth  what  to 
understand,  so  he  giveth  understanding  itself  even  to  the  simplest. 

The  church  suflereth  much  from  weak  ones,  therefore  we  may  challenge 
liberty  to  deal  with  them,  as  mildly,  so  oftentimes  directly.  The  scope  of 
true  love  is  to  make  the  party  better,  which  by  concealment  oftentimes  is 
hindered  ;  with  some  a  spirit  of  meekness  prevaileth  most,  but  with  some 
a  rod.  ^  Some  must  be  '  pulled  out  of  the  fire,'  Jude  23,  with  violence,  and 
they  will  bless  God  for  us  in  the  day  of  their  visitation.  We  see  our 
Saviour  multiplies  woe  upon  woe  when  he  was  to  deal  with  hard-hearted 
*  'Well-rooted,'  in  A.      f  Neither  .  ,  .  simplest.'  This  paragraph  first  added  in  B 


AND  SMOKING  FLAX.  53 

hypocrites  ,Mat.  xxiii.  13,  for  hypocrites  need*  stronger  conviction  than 
gross  sinners,  because  their  will  is  nought,  and  thereupon  usually  their 
conversion  is  violent.  An  hard  knot  must  have  an  answerable  wedge,  else 
in  a  cruel  pity  we  betray  their  souls.  A  sharp  reproof  sometimes  is  a 
precious  pearl,  and  a  sweet  balm.  The  wounds  of  secure  sinners  will  not 
be  healed  with  sweet  words.  The  Holy  Ghost  came  as  well  in  fiery  tongues, 
as  in  the  likeness  of  a  dove,  and  the  same  Holy  Spirit  will  vouchsafe  a 
spirit  of  prudence  and  discretion,  which  is  the  salt  to  season  all  our  words 
and  actions.  And  such  wisdom  will  teach  us  '  to  speak  a  word  in  season,' 
Isa.  1.  4,  both  to  the  weaiy,  and  likewise  to  the  secure  soul.  And,  indeed, 
he  had  need  have  '  the  tongue  of  the  learned,'  Isa.  1.  4,  that  shall  either 
raise  up  or  cast  down  ;  but  in  this  place  I  speak  of  mildness  towards  those 
that  are  weak  and  are  sensible  of  it.  These  we  must  bring  on  gently,  and 
drive  softly,  as  Jacob  did  his  cattle.  Gen.  xxxiii.  14,  according  to  their  pace, 
and  as  his  chil da-en  were  able  to  endure. 

Weak  Christians  are  hke  glasses  which  are  hurt  with  the  least  violent 
usage, 'otherwise  if  gently  handled  will  contmue  a  long  time.  This  honour 
of  gentle  use  we  are  to  give  to  '  the  weaker  vessels,'  1  Pet.  iii.  7,  by  which  we 
shall  both  preserve  them,  and  likewise  make  them  useful  to  the  church  and 
ourselves. 

In  unclean  bodies  if  all  iU  humours  be  purged  out,  you  shall  purge  Hfe 
and  all  away.  Therefore  though  God  saith,  that  *he  will  fine  them  as  silver 
is  fined,'  Zech.  xiii.  9  ;  yet,  Isa.  xlviii.  10,  he  said,  '  he  hath  fined  them, 
but  not  as  silver,'  that  is,  so  exactly  as  that  no  dross  remaineth,  for  he  hath 
respect  to  our  weakness.  Perfect  refining  is  for  another  world,  for  the 
world  of  the  souls  of  perfect  men. 


[Chapter  VIII. — Tenderness  required  in  ministers  toward  young  beginners.] 

_  1.  Divines  had  need  to  take  heed  therefore  how  they  deal  with  these  in 
divers  particulars  :  as  first  let  them  be  careful  they  strain  not  thmgs  too 
high  {h),  making  those  general  and  necessary  evidences  of  grace,  which 
agree  not  to  the  experience  of  many  a  good  Christian,  and  lay  salvation  and 
damnation  upon  those  things  that  are  not  fit  to  bear  so  great  a  weight,  where- 
upon men  are  groundlessly  cast  down  lower  by  them,  than  they  can  hastily 
be_raised  up  again  by  themseTves  or  others.  The  ambassadors  of  so  gentle 
a  Saviour  should  not  be  over-masterly,  setting  up  themselves  in  the  hearts 
of  people  where  Christ  alone  should  sit  as  in  his  own  temple.  Too  muchf 
Respect  to. man  was  one  of  the  inlets  of  popery.  'Let  a  man  account  oif 
us  as  of  the  ministers  of  Christ,'  1  Cor.  iv.  1,  neither  more  nor  less,  just  so 
much.  How  careful  was  St  Paul  in  cases  of  conscience  not  to  lay  a  snare 
upon  any  weak  conscience. 

They  should  take  heed  likewise  that  they  hide  not  their  meaning  in  dark 
speeches,  speaking  in  the  clouds.  Truth  feareth  nothing  so  much  as  con- 
cealment, and  desireth  nothing  so  much  as  clearly  to  be  laid  open  to  the 
view  of  all :  when  it  is  most  naked,  it  is  most  lovely  and  powerful. 

Our  blessed  Saviour,  as  he  took  our  nature  upon  him,  so  he  took  upon 
him  our  famiUar  manner  of  speech,  which  was  part  of  his  voluntary  abase- 
ment. St  Paul  was  a  profound  man,  yet  became  as  a  nurse  to  the  weaker 
sort,  1  Thess.  ii.  7. 

That  spirit  of  mercy  that  was  in  Christ  should  move  his  servants  to  be 
•  '  l^  need,'  in  A  and  B.  t  '  Too  much  ....  just  so  much/  added  first  in  B 


54  THE  BRUISED  KEED 

content  to  abase  themselves  for  the  good  of  the  meanest.  AVhat  made  the 
*  kingdom  of  heaven  suffer  violence,'  Matt.  xi.  22,  after  John  the  Baptist's 
timer  but  that  comfortable  traths  were  with  that  plainness  and  evidence  laid 
open,  that  the  people  were  so  affected  with  them,  as  they  offered  a  holy 
violence  to  them  ? 

Christ  chose  those  to  preach  mercy,  which  had  felt  most  mercy,  as  St 
Peter  and  St  Paul  ;  that  they  might  be  examples  of  what  they  taught.  St 
Paul  '  became  all  things  to  all  men,'  1  Cor.  ix.  2,  stooping  unto  them  for 
their  good.  Christ  came  down  from  heaven,  and  emptied  himself  of  ma- 
jesty in  tender  love  to  souls  ;  shall  we  not  come  down  from  our  high  con- 
ceits to  do  any  poor  soul  good  ?  shall  man  be  proud  after  God  hath  been 
humble  ?  We  see  the  ministers  of  Satan  turn  themselves  into  all  shapes  to 
'make  proselytes,'  Matt,  xxiii.  15.  A  Jesuit  will  be  every  man.  We  see 
ambitious  men  study  accommodation  of  themselves  to  the  humours  of  those 
by  whom  they  hope  to  be  raised  ;  •'.=  and  shall  not  we  study  application  of 
ourselves  to  Christ,  by  whom  we  hope  to  be  advanced,  nay,  are  already 
sitting  with  him  in  heavenly  places  ?  After  we  are  gained  to  Christ  our- 
selves, we  should  labour  to  gain  others  to  Christ.  Holy  ambition  and 
covetousness  will  move  us  to  put  upon  ourselves  the  disposition  of  Christ : 
but  we  must  put  off  ourselves  first. 

We  should  not,  thirdly,  rack  their  wits  with  curious  or  '  doubtful  dis- 
putes,' Rom.  xiv  1 ;  for  so  we  shall  distract  and  tire  them,  and  give  occasion 
to  make  them  cast  off  the  care  of  all.  That  age  of  the  church  which  was 
most  fertile  in  nice  questions,  was  most  barren  in  religion :  for  it  makes 
people  think  religion  to  be  only  a  matter  of  wit,  in  tying  and  untying  of 
knots;  the  brains  of  men  given  that  way  are  hotter  usually  than  their  hearts. 

Yet  notwithstanding,  when  we  are  cast  into  times  and  places  wherein 
doubts  are  raised  about  main  points,  here  people  ought  to  labour  to  be 
established.  God  suffereth  questions  oftentimes  to  arise  for  trial  of  our 
love  and  exercise  of  our  parts.  Nothing  is  so  certain  as  that  which  is 
certain  after  doubts.  Nil  tarn  eertum  qudm  qxiod  ex  dubio  certwn.  Shaking 
settles  and  roots.  In  a  contentious  age,  it  is  a  witty  thing  to  be  a 
Christian,  and  to  know  what  to  pitch  their  souls  upon ;  it  is  an  office  of 
love  here  to  take  away  the  stones,  and  to  smooth  the  way  to  heaven. 
Therefore,  we  must  take  heed  that,  under  pretence  of  avoidance  of  disputes, 
we  do  not  suffer  an  adverse  party  to  get  ground  upon  the  truth  ;  for  thus 
may  we  easily  betray  both  the  truth  of  God  and  souls  of  men. 

And  likewise  those  are  faihng  that,  by  overmuch  austerity,  drive  back 
troubled  souls  from  having  comfort  by  them ;  for  by  this  carriage  many 
smother  their  temptations,  and  burn  inwardly,  because  they  have  none  into 
whose  bosom  they  may  vent  their  giief  and  ease  their  souls. 

We  must  neither  bind  where  God  looseth,  nor  loose  where  God  bindeth, 
nor  open  where  God  shutteth,  nor  shut  where  God  openeth ;  the  right  use 
of  the  keys  is  always  successful.  In  personal  application  there  must  be 
great  heed  taken  ;  for  a  man  may  be  a  false  prophet,  and  yet  speak  the 
truth.  If  it  be  not  a  truth  to  the  person  to  whom  he  speaketh ;  if  he  '  grieve 
those  whom  God  hath  not  grieved,'  Lam.  iii.  33,  by  unseasonable  truths, 
or  by  comforts  in  an  ill  way,  the  hearts  of  the  wicked  may  be  strengthened. 
One  man's  meat  may  be  another's  bane. 

If  we  look  to  the  general  temper  of  these  times,  rousing  and  waking 
Scriptures  are  fittest ;  yet  there  be  many  broken  spirits  need  soft  and  oily 
words.  Even  in  the  worst  time  the  prophets  mingled  sweet  comfort  for 
*  '  To  raise  themselves,'  in  A  and  B 


AND  SMOKING  FLAX.  55 

the  hidden  remnant  of  faithful  people.     God  hath  comfort ;  *  Comfort  ye 
my  people,'  Isa.  xl.  1,  as  well  as  '  hft  up  thy  voice  as  a  trumpet,'  Isa.  Iviii.  1. 

And  here  likewise  there  needs  a  caveat.  Mercy  doth  not  rob  us  of  our 
right  judgment,  as  that  we  should  take  stinking*  fire-brands  for  smoking 
flax.  None  will  claim  mercy  more  of  others,  than  those  whose  portion  is 
due  severity.  This  example  doth  not  countenance  lukewarmness,  nor  too 
much  indulgence  to  those  that  need  quickening.  Cold  diseases  must  have 
hot  remedies.  It  made  for  the  just  commendations  of  the  church  of 
Ephesus,  '  that  it  could  not  bear  with  them  which  are  evil,'  Rev.  ii.  2.  We 
should  so  bear  with  others,  as  we  discover  withal  a  dislike  of  evil.  Our 
Saviour  Christ  would  not  forbear  sharp  reproof,  where  he  saw  dangerous 
infirmities  in  his  most  beloved  disciples.  It  bringeth  under  a  curse  '  to  do 
the  work  of  the  Lord  negligently,'  Jer.  xlviii.  10  ;  even  where  it  is  a  work 
of  just  severity,  as  when  it  is  sheathing  the  sword  in  the  bowels  of  the 
enemy.  And  those  whom  we  sufier  to  be  betrayed  by  their  worst  enemies, 
their  sins,  will  have  just  cause  to  curse  us  another  day. 

It  is  hard  to  preserve  just  bounds  of  mercy  and  severity,  without  a  spirit 
above  our  own  ;  which  we  ought  to  desire  to  be  led  withal  in  all  things. 
That  '  wisdom  which  dweUeth  with  prudence,'  Prov.  viii.  12,  will  guide  us 
in  these  particulars,  without  which  virtue  is  not  virtue,  truth  not  truth.  The 
rule  and  the  case  must  be  laid  together  ;  for  if  there  be  not  a  narrow  in- 
sight., seeming  likeness  in  conditions  will  be  the  breeder  of  errors  in  our 
opitiions  of  them.  Those  fiery,  tempestuous,  and  destructive  spirits  in 
popery,  that  seek  to  promote  their  rehgion  by  cruelty,  shew  that  they  are 
stntngers  to  that  wisdom  which  is  from  above,  which  maketh  men  gentle 
peaceable,  and  ready  to  shew  that  mercy  they  have  felt  before  themselves 
It  is  a  way  of  prevailing,  as  agreeable  to  Christ,  so  Likewise  to  man's 
nature,  to  prevail  by  some  forbearance  and  moderation. 

And  yet  oft  we  see  a  false  spirit  in  those  that  call  for  moderation.  It  is 
but  to  carry  their  own  projects  with  the  gi-eater  strength  ;  and  if  they  prove 
of  the  prevailing  hand,  they  will  hardly  shew  that  moderation  to  others 
they  now  call  for  from  others.  And  there  is  a  proud  kind  of  moderation 
likewise,  when  men  will  take  upon  them  to  censm-e  bothf  parties,  as  if  they 
were  wiser  than  both,  although,!  if  the  spirit  be  right,  a  looker  on  may  see 
more  than  those  that  are  in  conflict. 


[Chapter  IX. — Governors  should  be  tender  of  weak  ones,  and  also  private 

Christians.] 

2.  So  in  the  censures  of  the  church,  it  is  more  suitable  to  the  spirit  of 
Christ  to  incline  to  the  milder  part,  and  not  to  kill  a  fly  on  the  forehead 
with  a  beetle  (c),  nor  shut  men  out  of  heaven  for  a  trifle.  The  veiy  snufiers  of 
the  tabernacle  were  made  of  pure  gold,  to  shew  the  purity  of  those  cen- 
sures, whereby  the  light  of  the  church  is  kept  bright.  That  power  that  is 
given  to  the  church  is  given  for  edification,  not  destruction.  How  careful 
was  St  Paul,  that  the  incestuous  Corinthian,  2  Cor.  ii.  7,  repenting,  should 
not  be  swallowed  up  with  too  much  grief. 

As  for  civil  magistrates,  they,  for  civil  exigences  and  reasons  of  state, 
must  let  the  law  have  its  course  ;  yet  thus  far  they  should  imitate  this  mild 
king,  as  not  to  mingle  bitterness  and  passion  with  authority  derived  from 
God.  Authority  is  a  beam  of  God's  majesty,  and  prevaileth  most  where 
•  '  Smoking,'  in  A  and  B.  f  '  Either  party,'  in  A.  J  '  Though,'  in  A  and  B, 


r 


56  THE  BRUISED  REED 

there  is  least  mixture  of  that  which  is  man's.  It  requireth  more  than 
ordinary  wisdom  to  manage  it  aright.  This  string  must  not  be  too  much 
strained  up,  nor  too  much  let  loose.  Justice  is  an  harmouical  thing.  Herbs 
hot  or  cold  beyond  a  certain  degree,  kill.  We  see  even  contrary  elements 
preserved  in  one  body  by  a  wise  contemperation.  Justice  in  rigom-  is  of; 
extreme  injustice,  where  some  considerable  circumstances  should  inclim 
to  moderation ;  and  the  reckoning  will  be  easier  for  bending  rather  to 
moderation  than  rigour. 

Insolent  carriage  toward  miserable  persons,  if  humbled,  is  unseemly  in 
any  who  look  for  mercy  themselves.  Misery  should  be  a  loadstone  oi 
mercy,  not  a  footstool  for  pride  to  trample  on. 

Sometimes  it  falleth  out  that  those  that  are  under  the  government  of 
others,  are  most  injurious  by  waywardness  and  harsh  censm-es,  herein  dis- 
paraging and  discouraging  the  endeavours  of  superiors  for  public  good.  In 
so  great  weakness  of  man's  nature,  and  especially  in  this  crazy  age  of  the 
world,  we  ought  to  take  in  good  part  any  moderate  happiness  we  enjoy  by 
government ;  and  not  be  altogether  as  a  nail  in  the  wound,  exasperating 
things  by  misconstruction.  Here  love  should  have  a  mantle  to  cast  upon 
lesser  errors  of  those  above  us.  Oftentimes  the  poor  man  is  the  oppressor 
by  unjust  clamours.  We  should  labour  to  give  the  best  interpretation  to 
the  actions  of  governors  that  the  nature  of  the  actions  will  possibly  bear. 

In  the  last  place,  there  is  something  for  private  Christians,  even  for  all 
of  us  in  our  common  relations,  to  take  notice  of:  we  are  debtors  to  the 
weak  in  many  things. 

1.  Let  us  be  watchful  in  the  use  of  ourlibertv.  and  labour  to  be  inoffen- 
sive in  our  carriage,  that  our  example  com]^<^^  flipm  n^f  There  is  a  com- 
mandmg  force  in  an  example,  as  Peter,  Gal.  ii.  Looseness^'=  of  life  is 
craelty  to  oui'selves,  and  to  the  souls  of  others.  Though  we  cannot  keep 
them  from  perishing  which  will  perish,  in  regard  of  the  event ;  yet  if  we  do 
that  which  is  apt  of  itself  to  destroy  the  souls  of  others,  their  ruin  is  im- 
putable to  us. 

2.  Let  men  take  heed  of  taking  up  Satan's  office,  in  depraving  the  good 
actions  of  others,  as  he  did  Job's,  '  doth  he  serve  God  for  nought  ? '  Job  i. 
9,  or  slandering  their  persons,  judging  of  them  according  to  the  wickedness 
that  is  in  their  own  hearts.  The  de\dl  getteth  more  by  such  discom-age- 
ments,  and  these  reproaches  that  are  cast  upon  religion,  than  by  fire  and 
fagot.  These,  as  unseasonable  frosts,  nip  all  gracious  offers  in  the  bud ; 
and  as  much  as  in  them  lieth,  with  Hercd,  labour  "to  "bill  Chi'lst  in  young 
professors.  A  Christian  is  a  hallowed  and  a  sacred  thing,  Chiist's  temple  ; 
*  and  he  that  destroyeth  his  temple,  him  will  Christ  destroy,'  1  Cor. 
iii.  17. 

3.  Amongst  the  things  that  are  to  be  taken  heed  of,  there  is  amongst 
private  Christians  a  bold  usurpation  of  censure  towards  others,  not  con- 
sidering their  temptations.  Some  will  unchurch  and  iiphrnthfir  in  a  passion. 
But  distempers  do  not  alter  True  relations  ;TEough  the  child  in  a  fit  should 
disclaim  the  mother,  yet  the  mother  will  not  disclaim  the  child. 

There  is  therefore  in  these  judging  times  good  ground  of  St  James's 
caveat,  that  there  should  not  '  be  too  many  masters,'  James  iii.  1 ;  that  we 
should  not  smite  one  another  by  hasty  censures,  especially  in  things  of  an 
indifferent  nature  ;  some  things  are  as  the  mind  of  him  is  that  doth  them, 
or  doth  them  not ;  for  both  may  be  unto  the  Lord. 

A  holy  aim  in  thmgs  of  a  middle  nature  makes  the  judgments  of  men, 
*  '  A  looseness,'  in  A. 


AND  SMOKING  FLAX.  57 

although  seemingly  contrary,  yet  not  so  much  hlameable.  Christ,  for  the 
good  aims  he  seeth  in  us,  overlooketh  any.  ill  in  them,  so  far  as  not  to  lay 
it  to  our  charge. 

Men  must  not  be  too  curious  in  prying  into  the  weaknesses  of  others. 
"We  should  laboui-  rather  to  see  what  they  have  that  is  for  eternity,  to  in- 
cline our  heart  to  love  them,  than  into  that  weakness  which  the  Spirit  of 
God  will  in  time  consume,  to  estrange  us.  Some  think  it  strength  of  grace 
to  endui-e  nothing  in  the  weaker,  whereas  the  strongest  are  readiest  to  bear 
with  the  infii'mities  of  the  weak. 

Where  most  holiness  is,  there  is  most  moderation,  where  it  may  be  with- 
out prejudice  of  piety  to  God  and  the  good  of  others.  We  see  in  Christ  a 
marvellous  temper  of  absolute  holiness,  with  great  moderation,  in  this  text. 
What  had  become  of  our  salvation,  if  he  had  stood  upon  terms,  and  not 
stooped  thus  low  unto  us  ?  We  need  not  affect  to  be  more  holy  than 
Christ ;  it  is  no  flatteiy  to  do  as  he  doth,  so  it  be  to  edification. 

The  Holy  Ghost  is  content  to  dwell  in  smoky,  offensive  souls.  0  that 
that  Spirit  would  breathe  into  our  spirits  the  like  merciful  disposition !  We 
endure  the  bitterness  of  wormwood,  and  other  distasteful  plants  and  herbs, 
only  because  we  have  some  experience  of  some  wholesome  quality  in  them  ; 
and  why  should  we  reject  men  of  useful  parts  and  gi'aces,  only  for  some 
harshness  of  disposition,  which,  as  it  is  offensive  to  us,  so  grieveth  them- 
selves ? 

Grace  whilst  we  live  here  is  in  souls,  which  as  they  are  unperfectly 
renewed,  so  they  dwell  in  bodies  subject  to  several  humours,  which  will 
incline  the  soul  sometimes  to. excess  in  one  passion,  sometimes  to  excess 
in  another. 

Bucer  was  a  deep  and  a  moderate  divine  ;  upon  long  experience  he  resolved 
to  refuse  none  in  whom  he  saw,  aliquid  Christi,  something  of  Christ. 

The  best  Christians  in  this  state  of  imperfection  are  like  gold  that  is  a 
httle  too  Ught,  which  needs  some  grains  of  allowance  to  make  it  pass.  You 
must  grant  the  best  their  allowance.  We  must  supply  out  of  our  love  and 
mercy,  that  which  we  see  wanting  in  them. 

The  church  of  Christ  is  a  common  hospital,  wherein  aU  are  in  somo 
measure  sick  of  some  spiritual  disease  or  other ;  that  we  should  all  have 
ground  of  exercising  mutually  the  spirit  of  wisdom  and  meekness. 

1.  This  that  we  may  the  better  do,  let  us  put  upon  om-selves  the  spirit 
of  Christ.  The  spirit  of  God  carrieth  a  majesty  with  it.  Corruption  will 
hardly  yield  to  corruption  in  another.  Pride  is  intolerable  to  pri^e.  Tbe 
weapons  of  this  warfare  must  not  be  carnal,  2  Cor.  x.  4.  The  great 
apostles  would  not  set  upon  the  work  of  the  ministry,  until  they  were 
'  clothed  as  it  were  with  power  from  on  high,'  Luke  xxiv.  49.  The  Spirit 
will  only  work  with  his  own  tools.  And  we  should  think  what  affection 
Christ  would  cany  to  the  party  in  this  case.  That  great  physician,  as 
he  had  a  quick  eye  and  a  healing  tongue,  so  had  he  a  gentle  hand,  and  a 
tender  heart.* 

2.  And  secondly,  put  upon  us  the  condition  of  him  whom  we  deal  withal  : 
we  are,  or  have  been,  or  may  be  such :  make  the  case  our  own,  and  withal 
consider  in  what  near  relation  a  Christian  standeth  unto  us,  even  as  a 
brother,  a  fellow-member,  heir  of  the  same  salvation.  And  therefore  let 
us  take  upon  ourselves  a  tender  care  of  them  every  way ;  and  especially  in 
cherishing  the  peace  of  their  consciences.     Conscience  is  a  tender  and 

*  Nil  sic  spiritualem  viriun  indicat  quam  alieni  peccali  tractatio. — Aug\usUne'\  in 
Gal.  vi. 


58  THE  BRUISED  REED 

delicate  thing,  and  so  must  be  used,     It  is  like  a  lock,  if  the  wards  be 
troubled,  it  will  be  troublesome  to  open  * 

[Chapter  X. — Rules  to  try  whether  we  be  such  as  Christ  will  not  quenchJ] 

For  trial,  to  let  us  see  whether  we  be  this  smoking  flax  which  Christ  will 
not  quench.     In  this  trial  remember  these  : — 1.  Rules.     2.  Signs. 

1.  We  must  have  two  eyes,  one  to  see  imperfections  in  ourselves  and 
others  ;  the  other  to  see  what  is  good.  '  I  am  black,'  saith  the  church,  '  but 
yet  comely,'  Cant.  i.  5.  Those  ever  want  comfort  that  are  much  in  quar- 
relling with  themselves,  and  through  their  infirmities  are  prone  to  feed  upon 
such  bitter  things,  as  will  most  nourish  that  distemper  they  are  sick  of. 
These  deUght  to  be  looking  on  the  dark  side  of  the  cloud  only. 

2.  We  must  not  judge  of  ourselves  always  according  to  present  feeling  ; 
for  in  temptations  we  shall  see  nothing  but  smoke  of  distrustful  thoughts. 
Fire  may  be  raked  up  in  the  ashes,  though  not  seen ;  life  in  the  winter  is 
hid  in  the  root. 

3.  Take  heed  of  false  reasoning ;  as  because  our  fire  doth  not  blaze  out 
as  others,  therefore  we  have  no  fii-e  at  all ;  and  by  false  conclusions  come 
to  sin  against  the  commandment  in  bearing  false  witness  against  ourselves. 
The  prodigal  would  not  say  he  was  no  son,  but  that  he  was  not  worthy  to  be 
called  a  son,  Luke  xv.  19.  We  must  neither  trust  to  false  evidence,  nor 
deny  true ;  for  so  we  should  dishonour  the  work  of  God's  Spirit  in  us,  and 
lose  the  help  of  that  evidence  which  would  cherish  our  love  to  Christ,  and 
arm  us  against  Satan's  discouragements.  Some  are  so  faulty  this  way,  as 
if  they  had  been  hired  by  Satan,  the  '  accuser  of  the  brethren,'  Rev.  xii.  10, 
to  plead  for  him,  in  accusing  themselves. 

4.  Know,  for  a  ground  of  this,  that  in  the  covenant  of  grace,  God 
requires  the  truth  of  grace,  not  any  certain  measure ;  and  a  spark  of  fire  is 
fire  as  well  as  the  whole  element.  Therefore  we  must  look  to  grace  in  the 
spark  as  well  as  in  the  flame.  All  have  not  the  like  strong,  yet  the  like 
precious  faith,  2  Pet.  i.  1,  whereby  they  lay  hold,  and  put  on,  the  perfect 
righteousness  of  Christ.  A  weak  hand  may  receive  a  rich  jewel ;  a  few 
grapes  will  shew  that  the  plant  is  a  vine,  and  not  a  thorn.  It  is  one  thing 
to  be  wanting  in  grace,  and  another  thing  to  want  grace  altogether.  God 
knoweth  we  have  nothing  of  ourselves,  therefore  in  the  coven'ant  of  grace 
he  requireth  no  more  than  he  giveth,  and  giveth  what  he  requireth,  and 
accepteth  what  he  giveth  :  *  He  that  hath  not  a  lamb  may  bring  a  pair  of 
turtle  doves,'  Lev.  xii.  6.  What  is  the  gospel  itself  but  a  merciful  modera- 
tion, in  which  Christ's  obedience  is  esteemed  ours,  and  our  sins  laid  upon 
him,  and  wherein  God  of  a  judge  becometh  the  father,  pardoning  our  sins 
and  accepting  our  obedience,  though  feeble  and  blemished  !  We  are  now 
brought  to  heaven  under  the  covenant  of  grace  by  a  way  of  love  and  mercy. 

It  will  prove  a  special  help  to  know  distinctly  the  difierence  between  the 
covenant  of  works  and  the  covenant  of  grace,  between  Moses  and  Christ ; 
Moses  without  all  mercy  breaketh  all  bruised  reeds,  and  quencheth  all 
smoking  flax.  For  the  law  requireth,  1,  personal ;  2,  perpetual ;  3,  perfect 
obedience  ;  4,  and  fi-om  a  perfect  heart ;  and  that  under  a  most  terrible 
curse,  and  giveth  no  strength,  a  severe  task-master,  like  Pharaoh's  requir- 
ing the  whole  tale,  and  yet  giving  no  straw.     Christ  cometh  with  blessing 

*  Nil   magis   ad  misericordiam  inclinat  quam  proprii  periculi  cogitatio. — Au- 


AND  SMOKING  FLAX.  59 

after  blessing  even  upon  those  whom  Moses  had  cursed,  and  with  healing 
bahn  for  those  wounds  which  Moses  had  made. 

_  The  same  duties  are  required  in  both  covenants ;  as,  '  to  love  the  Lord 
with  all  our  hearts,  with  all  our  souls,'  &c.,  Deut.  vi.  5.  In  the*  covenant 
of  works,  this  must  be  taken  in  the  rigour ;  but  under  the  covenant  of 
grace,  as  it  is  a  sincere  endeavour  proportionable  to  grace  received  (and  so 
it  must  be  understood  of  Josias,  and  others,  when  it  is  said,  *  they  loved 
God  with  all  their  hearts,'  &c.),  it  must  have  an  evangeKcal  mitigation. 

The  law  is  sweetened  by  the  gospel,  and  becometh  dehghtful  to  the  inner 
man,  Rom.  vii.  22.  Under  this  gracious  covenant  sincerity  is  perfection. 
This  is  the  death  in  the  pot  in  the  Roman  religion,!  that  they  confound 
two  covenants ;  and  it  deads  the  comfort  of  drooping  ones,  that  they  can- 
not distinguish  them.  And  thus  they  sufier  themselves  to  be  held  under 
bondage,'  Isa.  Ixi.  1,  2,  when  Christ  hath  set  them  free  ;  and  stay  them- 
selves in  the  prison,  when  Christ  hath  set  open  the  doors  before  them. 

5.  Grace  sometimes  is  so  little  as  is  undiscemible  to  us  :  the  Spirit 
sometimes  hath  secret  operations  in  us,  which  we  know  not  for  the  pre- 
sent ;  but  Christ  knoweth.  Sometimes  in  bitterness  of  temptation,  when 
the  Spirit  struggles  with  sense  of  God's  anger,  we  are  apt  to  think  God  an 
enemy;  and  a  troubled  soul  is  like  troubled  water, |  we  can  see  nothing  in 
it ;  and  so  far  as  it  is  not  cleansed,  it  will  cast  up  mire  and  dirt.  It  is 
full  of  objections  against  itself,  yet  for  the  most  part  we  may  discern  some- 
thing of  the  hidden  life,  and  of  these  smothered  sparks. 

In  a  gloomy  day  there  is  so  much  light  whereby  we  may  know  it  to  be 
day,  and  not  night ;  so  there  is  something  in  a  Christian  under  a  cloud, 
whereby  he  may  be  discerned  to  be  a  true  behever,  and  not  a  hypocrite. 
There  is  no  mere  darkness  in  the  state  of  grace,  but  some  beam  of  light, 
whereby  the  kingdom  of  darkness  whoUy  prevaileth  not. 

[Chaptee  XI. — Signs  of  smoking  fla^  which  Christ  will  not  quench.] 

These  things  premised,  let  us  know  for  a  trial,  1.  First,  if  there  be  any 
holy  fire  in  lis,  it  is  kindled  from  heaven  by  the  '  Father  of  hghts,  who  com- 
mandeth  light  to  shine  out  of  darkness,'  2  Cor.  iv.  6.  As  it  is  kindled  in 
the  use  of  means,  so  it  is  fed.  The  Hght  in  us,  and  the  light  in  the  word, 
spring  one  from  the  other,  and  both  from  one  Holy  Spirit ;  and,  therefore, 
those  that  regard  not  the  word,  it  is  because  there  '  is  no  light  in  them,'  Isa. 
viii.  20.  Heavenly  truths  must  have  a  heavenly  light  to  discern  them. 
Natural  men  see  heavenly  things,  but  not  in  their  own  proper  light,  but  by 
an  mferior  light.  God  in  every  converted  man  putteth  a  light  into  the 
eye  of  his  soul,  proportionable  to  the  light  of  truths  revealed  unto  him.  A 
carnal  eye  will  never  see  spiritual  things. 

2.  Secondly,  the  least  divine  light  hath  heat  with  it  in  some  measure ;  light 
in  the  understanding  breedeth  heat  of  love  in  the  affections.  Claritas  in 
intellectu  parit  ardorem  in  afectu.  In  what  measure  the  sanctified  under- 
standing seeth  a  thing  to  be  true,  or  good,  in  that  measure  the  will  em- 
braces it.  Weak  light  breeds  weak  inclinations  ;  a  strong  Hght,  strong 
incKnations.  A  Uttle  spiritual  light  is  of  strength  enough  to  answer  strong 
objections  of  flesh  and  blood,  and  to  look  through  all  earthly  allurements 
and  opposing?  hindrances,  presenting  them  as  far  inferior  to  those  heavenly 
objects  it  eyeth. 

•  '^^^^''  ill  ^  and  B.  %  '  Waters,'  in  A  and  B. 

t  Rcmaji  religion  =  Popery.— G.  §  '  And  all,'  in  A  and  B. 


go  THE  BBUISEB  RSED 

All  li'^ht  that  is  not  spiritual,  because  it  wanteth  the  strength  of  sanctify- 
in»  grace,  yieldeth*  to  every  little  temptation,  especially  when  it  is  fitted 
and  suited  to  personal  inclinations.  This  is  the  reason  why  Christians 
that  have  light  little  for  quantity,  but  yet  heavenly  for  quaHty,  hold  out, 
when  men  of  larger  apprehensions  sink. 

This  prevailing  of  hght  in  the  soul  is  because,  together  with  the  spirit  of 
illumination,  there  goeth,  in  the  godly,  a  spirit  of  power,  2  Tim.  i.  7,  to 
subdue  the  heart  to  truth  revealed,  and  to  put  a  taste  and  relish  into  the 
will,  suitable  to  the  sweetness  of  the  truths  ;  else  a  mere  natural  will  will 
rise  against  supernatural  truths,  as  having  an  antipathy  and  enmity  against 
them.  In  the  godly,  holy  truths  are  conveyed  by  way  of  a  taste  ;  gracious 
men  have  a  spiritual  palate  as  well  as  a  spiritual  eye.  Grace  altereth  the 
rehsh. 

3.  Thirdly,  where  this  heavenly  light  is  kindled,  it  directeth  in  the  right 
way.  For  it  is  given  for  that  use,  to  shew  us  the  best  way,  and  to  guide 
in  the  particular  passages  of  life  ;  if  otherwise,  it  is  but  common  light, 
given  only  for  the  good  of  others.  Some  have  light  of  knowledge,  yet 
follow  not  that  light,  but  are  guided  by  carnal  reason  and  policy  ;  such  as 
the  prophet  speaks  of,  '  All  you  that  kindle  a  fire,  walk  in  the  light  of  your 
own  fire,  and  in  the  sparks  that  you  have  kindled ;  but  this  you  shall  have 
of  mine  hand,  ye  shall  lie  down  in  sorrow,'  Isa.  1.  11.  God  delights  to 
confound  carnal  wisdom,  as  enmity  to  him,  and  robbing  him  of  his  prero- 
gative, who  is  God  only  wise.  We  must,  therefore,  walk  by  his  light,  and 
not  the  blaze  of  our  own  fire.  God  must  light  our  candle,  Ps.  xviii.  28, 
or  else  we  are  like  to  abide  in  darkness.  Those  sparks  that  are  not 
kindled  from  heaven,  are  not  strong  enough  to  keep  us  from  lying  do'mi 
in  sorrow,  though  they  make  a  greater  blaze  and  show  than  the  light  from 
above,  as  madmen  do  greater  things  than  sober,  but  by  a  false  strength  : 
60  the  excess  of  these  men's  joy  ariseth  from  a  false  light,  '  the  candle  ot 
the  wicked  shall  be  put  out,'  Job  xviii.  6. 

The  hght  that  some  men  have,  it  is  like  lightning,  which  after  a  sudden 
flash  leaveth  them  more  in  darkness.  They  can  love  the  light  as  it 
shines,  but  hate  it  as  it  discovers  and  directs.  A  little  holy  light  will 
enable  to  keep  the  word,  and  not  betray  religion,  and  deny  Christ's  name, 
as  Christ  speaketh  of  the  church  of  Philadelphia,  Rev.  iii.  8. 

4.  Fourthly,  where  this  fire  is,  it  ivill  sever  things  of  diverse  natures,  and 
shew  a  difference  between  things,  as  gold  and  dross.  It  will  sever  between 
flesh  and  spirit,  and  shew  that  this  is  of  nature,  this  of  grace.  All  is  not 
ill  in  a  bad  action,  or  good  in  a  good  action.  There  is  gold  in  ore,  which 
God  and  his  Spirit  in  us  can  distinguish.  A  carnal  man's  heart  is  like  a 
dungeon,  wherein  is  nothing  to  be  seen  but  hoiTor  and  confusion  ;  this 
light  maketh  us  judicious  and  humble,  upon  clearer  sight  of  God's  purity, 
and  our  own  uncleanness  ;  and  maketh  us  able  to  discern  of  the  work  of 
the  Spirit  in  another. 

5.  Fifthly,  so  far  as  a  man  is  spiritual,  so  far  is  light  delightful  unto  him, 
as  willing  to  see  anything  amiss,  that  he  may  reform,  and  any  further 
service  discovered  that  he  may  perform,  because  he  truly  hateth  ill  and 
loveth  good  ;  if  he  goeth  against  light  discovered,  he  will  soon  be  re- 
claimed, because  hght  hath  a  friendly  party  within  him.  Whereupon,  at 
a  little  sight  of  his  error  he  is  soon  counselable,  as  David  in  his  intendment 
to  kill  Nabal,  and  blessed  God  afterwards,  when  he  is  stopped  in  an  ill 
way,  1  Sam.  xxv.  32. 

*  '  It  yieldeth,'  in  A  and  B. 


AND  SMOKING  FLAX.  61 

In  a  carnal  man,  the  light  breaks  in  upon  him,  but  he  labours  to  shut 
the  passages,  he  hath  no  delight  to  come  to  the  hght.  It  is  impossible 
before  the  Spirit  of  grace  hath  subdued  the  heart,  but  that  it  should  sin 
against  the  light,  either  by  resisting  of  it,  or  keeping  it  prisoner  under  baso 
lusts,  and  burying  it,  as  it  were,  in  the  earth  ;  or  perverting  of  it,  and  so 
making  it  an  agent  and  factor  for  the  flesh,  in  searching  out  arguments  to 
plead  for  it,  or  abusing  that  little  measure  of  light  they  have,  to  keep  out 
a  greater,  higher,  and  more  heavenly  light ;  and  so,  at  length,  make  that 
light  they  have  a  misleading  guide  to  utter  darkness.  And  the  reason  is, 
because  it  hath  n©  friend  within,  the  soul  is  in  a  contrarj'^  frame  ;  and  light 
always  hindereth  that  sinful  peace  that  men  are  willing  to  speak  to  them- 
selves :  whence  we  see  it  oft  enrages  men  the  more,  as  the  sun  in  the 
spring  breedeth  aguish  distempers,  because  it  stirreth  humours,  and  doth 
not  waste  them.  There  is  nothing  in  the  world  more  unquiet  than  the 
heart  of  a  wicked  man,  that  sitteth  under  means  of  knowledge,  until,  like  a 
thief,  he  hath  put  out  the  candle,  that  he  may  sin  with  the  less  check. 
Spiritual  light  is  distinct,  it  seeth  spiritual  good,  with  application  to  our- 
selves ;  but  common  light  is  confused,  and  lets  sin  lie  quiet.  Where  fire 
is  in  any  degree,  it  will  fight  against  the  contrary  matter.  God  hath  put 
irreconcilable  hatred  between  light  and  darkness  at  first,  so  between  good 
and  ill,  flesh  and  spirit,  Gal.  v.  17  ;  grace  will  never  join  with  sin,  no  more 
than  fii'e  with  water.  Fire  will  mingle  with  no  contrary',  but  preserveth  its 
own  purity,  and  i§  never  corrupted  as  other  elements  are.  Therefore, 
those  that  plead  and  plot  for  liberties  of  the  flesh,  shew  themselves  strangers 
from  the  hfe  of  God.  Upon  this  strife,  gracious  men  oft  complain  that 
they  have  no  gi-ace,  but  they  contradict  themselves  in  their  complaints  ;  as 
if  a  man  that  seeth  should  complain  he  cannot  see,  or  complain  that  he  is 
asleep,  when  the  very  complaint,  springing  from  a  displeasure  against  sin, 
sheweth  that  there  is  something  in  him  opposite  to  sin.  Can  a  dead  man 
complain  ?  Some  things,  though  bad  in  themselves,  yet  discover  good  ; 
as  smoke  discovers  some  fire.  Breaking  out  in  the  body  shews  strength  of 
nature.  Some  infirmities  discover  more  good  than  some  seeming  beautiful 
actions.  Excess  of  passion  in  opposing  evil,  though  not  to  be  justified,  yet 
sheweth  a  better  spirit  than  a  calm  temper,  where  there  is  just  cause  of 
being  moved.  Better  it  is  that  the  water  should  run  something  muddily, 
than  not  at  all.  »  Job  had  more  grace  in  his  distempers,  than  his  friends  in 
their  seeming  wise  carriage.  Actions  soiled  with  some  weaknesses,  are 
more  accepted  than  complemental  performances. 

6.  Sixthly,  fire,  where  it  is  in  the  least  measure,  is  in  some  degree  active : 
so  the  least  measure  of  gi-ace  is  working,  as  springing  from  the  Spirit  of 
God,  which,  from  the  working  nature  of  it,  is  compared  to  fire.  Nay,  in 
sins,  when  there  seemeth  nothing  active,  but  corruption,  yet  there  is  a 
contrary  principle,  which  breaks  the  force  of  sin,  so  that  it  is  not  out  of 
measure  sinful,  as  in  those  that  are  carnal,  Rom.  vii.  13. 

7.  Seventhly,  fire  maketh  metals  pliable  and  malleable,  so  doth  grace, 
where  it  is  begun ;  it  worketh  the  heart  to  be  pliable  and  ready  for  all  good 
impressions.  Untractable  spirits  shew  that  they  are  not  so  much  as  smok- 
ing flax. 

8.  Eighthly,  fire  tumeth  all,  as  much  as  it  can,  to  fire  ;  so  grace 
laboureth  to  breed  the  like  impression  in  others,  and  make  as  many  good  as  it 
can.  Grace  likewise  maketh  a  gracious  use  even  of  natural  and  civil 
things,  and  doth  spiritualise  them.  "V\niat  another  man  doth  only  civilly,  a 
gracious  man  will  do  iiolily.    Whether  he  eateth  or  di-inketh,  or  whatsoever 


g2  THE  BRUISED  REED 

he  doth,  he  doth  all  to  the  glory  of  God,  1  Cor.  x.  31,  making  everything 
serviceable  to  the  last  end. 

•  9.  Ninthly,  sjmrks  by  nature  fly  upwards ;  so  the  Spiiit  of  grace  carrieth 
the  soul  heaven-ward,  and  setteth  before  us  holy  and  heavenly  aims.  As  it 
was  kindled  from  heaven,  so  it  carries  us  back  to  heaven.  The  part  foUoweth 
the  whole  :  fire  mounteth  upward,  so  every  spark  to  its  own  element. 
Where  the  aim  and  bent  of  the  soul  is  God-wards,  there  is  grace,  though 
opposed.  The  least  measure  of  it  is  holy  desires  springing  from  faith  and 
love,  for  we  cannot  desire  anything  which  we  do  not  beHeve  first  to  be,  and 
the  desire  of  it  issues  from  love.  Hence  desires  are  counted  a  part  of  the 
thing  desired,  in  some  measure ;  but  then  they  must  be,  first,  constant,  for 
constancy  shews  that  they  are  supernaturally  natural,  and  not  enforced  ; 
secondly,  they  must  be  carried  to  sjyiritual  things,  as  to  believe,  to  love  God, 
&c. :  not  out  of  a  special  exigent,  because,  if  now  they  had  grace,  they 
think  they  might  escape  some  danger,  but  as  a  loving  heart  is  carried  to 
the  thing  loved  for  some  excellency  in  itself;  and  thirdly,  with  desii'e  there 
is  grief  when  it  is  hindered,  which  stirs  up  to  prayer :  '  Oh  that  my  ways 
were  so  directed,  that  I  might  keep  thy  statutes  !'  Ps.  cxix.  5  ;  0  miserable 
man  that  I  am,  who  shall  deliver  ?  &c.,  Rom.  vii.  24  ;  fourthly,  desires  put 
us  onward  still :  0  that  I  might  serve  God  with  more  liberty ;  0  that  I 
were  more  fi-ee  from  these  ofi'ensive,  unsavoury,  noisome  lusts ! 

10.  Tenthly,  fire  worketh  itself,  if  it  hath  any  matter  to  feed  on,  into  a 
larger  compass,  and  mounteth  higher  and  higher,  a)id  the 'higher  it  riseth,  the 
purer  is  the  flame ;  so  where  true  grace  is,  it  groweth  in  measure  and  purity. 
Smoking  flax  will  grow  to  a  flame ;  and  as  it  increaseth,  so  it  worketh  out 
the  contrary,  and  refineth  itself  more  and  more.  Ignis,  quo  magis  lucet,  eo 
minus  fumat.  Therefore,  it  argueth  a  false  heart  to  set  ourselves  a  measure 
in  grace,  and  to  rest  in  beginnings,  alleging  that  Christ  will  not  quench  the 
smoking  flax.  But  this  merciful  disposition  in  Christ  is  joined  with  perfect 
holiness,  shewed  in  perfect  hatred  to  sin ;  for  rather  than  sin  should  not 
have  its  deserved  punishment,  himself  became  a  sacrifice  for  sin,  wherein 
his  Father's  holiness  and  his  own  most  of  all  shined.  And  besides  this, 
in  the  work  of  sanctification,  though  he  favours  his  work  in  us,  yet  favours 
he  not  sin  in  us  ;  for  he  will  never  take  his  hand  ffom  his  work,  until  he 
hath  taken  away  sin,  even  in  its  very  being,  from  our  natures.  The  same 
Spirit  that  purified  that  blessed  mass  whereof  he  was  made,  cleanseth  us 
by  degrees  to  be  suitable  to  so  holy  a  head,  and  frameth  the  judgment  and 
afi'ection  of  all  to  whom  he  sheweth  mercy,  to  concui*  with  his  own,  in 
labouring  to  farther  his  ends,  in  abolishing  of  sm  out  of  our  nature. 


[Chapter  XII. — Scnqjles  hindering  comfort  removed.'] 

Use.  From  the  meditation  of  these  rules  and  signs,  much  comfort  may 
be  brought  into  the  souls  of  the  weakest ;  which,  that  it  may  be  in  the 
more  abundance,  let  me  add  something  for  the  helping  them  over  some  few 
ordinary  objections  and  secret  thoughts  against  themselves,  which  getting 
within  the  heart,  oftentimes  keep  them  under. 

1.  Some  think  they  have  no  faith  at  all,  because  they  have  no  full 
assurance  ;  whenas  the  fairest  fire  that  can  be  will  have  some  smoke. 
The  best  actions  will  smell  of  the  smoke.  The  mortar  wherein  garHc  hath 
been  stamped,  will  always  smell  of  it ;  so  all  owe  actions  will  savour  some- 
thing of  the  old  man. 


AND  SMOKING  FLAX.  63 

2.  In  weakness  of  body  some  think  grace  dieth,  because  their  perform- 
ances are  feeble,  their  spirits,  being  the  instruments  of  their  souls' 
actions,  being  wasted  ;  not  considexing  that  God  regards  those  hidden 
sighs  of  those  that  want  abilities  to  express  them  outwardly.  He  that 
pronounceth  them  blessed  that  consider  the  poor,  will  have  a  merciful 
consideration  of  such  himself. 

3.  Some  again  are  haunted  with  hideous  representations  to  their  fantasies, 
and  with  vile  and  unworthy  thoughts  of  God,  of  Christ,  of  the  word,  &c., 
which,  as  busy  flies,  disquiet  and  molest  their  peace  ;  these  are  cast  in  like 
wildfire  by  Satan,  as  may  be  discerned  by  the,  1,  strangeness  ;  2,  strength 
and  violence ;  3,  horribleness  of  them  even  unto  nature  corrupt.  VeUem 
servari  Domine,  sed  cogitationes  non  jMtiuntur.  A  pious  soul  is  no  more 
guilty  of  them,  than  Benjamin  of  Joseph's  cup  put  into  his  sack.  Amongst 
other  helps  prescribed  by  godly  writers,  as  abomination  of  them,  and  diver- 
sion from  them  to  other  things,  &c.,  let  this  be  one,  to  complain  unto 
Christ  against  them,  and  to  fly  under  the  wings  of  his  protection,  and  to 
desire  him  to  take  our  part  against  his  and  our  enemy.  Shall  every  sin 
and  blasphemy  of  man  be  forgiven,  and  not  these  blasphemous  thoughts, 
which  have  the  devil  for  their  father,  when  Christ  himself  was  therefore 
molested  in  this  kind,  that  he  might  succour  all  poor  souls  in  the  hke 
case? 

But*  there  is  a  difference  betwixt  Christ  and  us  in  this  case^Jby  reason 
that  Satan  had  nothing  of  his  own  in  "chrisi,  his  suggestions  left  no  impres- 
sion at  all  in  his  holy  nature  ;  but,  as  sparks  falling  into  the  sea,  were 
presently  quenched.  Satan's  temptations  of  Christ  were  only  suggestions 
on  Satan's  part,  and  apprehensions  of  the  vileness  of  them  on  Christ's  part. 
To  apprehend  ill  suggested  by  another,  is  not  ill.  It  was  Christ's  grievance, 
but  Satan's  sin.  But  thus  he  yielded  himself  to  be  tempted,  that  he  might 
both  pity  us  in  our  conflicts,  and  train  us  up  to  manage  our  spiritual  weapons 
as  he  did.  Christ  could  have  overcome  him  by  power,  but  he  did  it  by 
argument.  But  when  Satan  cometh  to  us,  he  findeth  soinething  of  his  own 
in  us,  which  holdeth  correspondency  and  hath  intelligence  with  him ;  there 
is  the  same  enmity  in  our  nature  to  God  and  goodness  in  some  degree,  that 
is  in  Satan  himself;  whereupon  his  temptations  fasten  for  the  most  part 
some  taint  upon  us.  And  if  there  wanted  a  devil  to  suggest,  yet  sinful 
thoughts  would  arise  from  within  us  ;  though  none  were  cast  in  from  without, 
we  have  a  mint  of  them  within  :  these  thoughts,  viorosa  cogitatio,  if  the  soul 
dwell  on  them  so  long  as  to  suck  or  draw  from  and  by  them  any  sinful 
delight,  then  they  leave  a  more  hea\y  guilt  upon  the  soul,  and  hinder  our 
sweet  communion  with  God,  and  interrupt  our  peace,  and  put  a  contrary 
rehsh  into  the  soul,  disposing  of  it  to  greater  sins.  All  scandalous  breakings 
out  are  but  thoughts  at  the  first.  Ill  thoughts  are  as  little  thieves,  which, 
creeping  in  at  the  window,  open  the  door  to  gi-eater ;  thoughts  are  seeds  of 
actions.  These,  especially  when  they  are  helped  forward  by  Satan,  mak 
the  life  of  many  good  Christians  almost  a  martyrdom.  In  this  case  it  is  an 
unsound  comfort  that  some  minister,  that  ill  thoughts  arise  from  nature, 
and  what  is  natural  is  excusable ;  but  we  must  know,  that  nature,  as  it 
came  out  of  God's  hands  at  the  first,  had  no  such  risings  out  of  it :  the 
soul,  as  inspired  of  God,  had  no  such  unsavoury  breathings  ;  but  since  that 
by  sin  it  betrayed  itself,  it  is  in  some  sort  natural  to  it  to  forge  sinful 
imaginations,  and  to  be  a  furnace  of  such  sparks  ;  and  this  is  an  aggravation 

*  '  But' to  '  subjection  in  himself.'  This  long  paragraph  first  intro- 
duced in  B. 


g4  THE  BRUISED  EEED 

of  the  sinfulness  of  natural  corruption,  that  it  is  so  deeply-  rooted,  and  so 
generally  spread  in  our  nature. 

'  It  furthereth  humiliation  to  know  the  whole  breadth  and  depth  of  sin  ; 
only  this,  that  our  nature  now,  so  far  as  it  is  unrenewed,  is  so  unhappily 
fruitful  in  ill  thoughts,  ministers  this  comfort,  that  it  is  not  our  case  alone, 
as  if  our  condition  herein  were  severed  from  others,  as  some  have  been 
tempted  to  think,  even  almost  to  despair ;  none,  say  they,  have  such  u 
loathsome  nature  as  I  have.  This  springs  from  ignorance  of  the  spreading 
of  original  sin,  for  what  can  come  from  an  unclean  thing,  but  that  which  is 
unclean  ?  '  As  in  the  water  face  answers  face,  so  the  polluted  heart  of  one 
man  answereth  to  the  heart  of  another,'  Prov.  xxvii  19,  where  gi'ace  hath  not 
made  some  difference.  As  in  annoyances  from  Satan,  so  here,  the  best  way  is 
to  lay  open  our  complaints  to  Christ,  and  cry  with  St  Paul,  Domine  simpatior, 
'  0  miserable  man  that  I  am,  who  shall  deliver  me  from  this  body  of  death  ?' 
Rom.  vii.  24,  25  :  upon  this  venting  of  his  distressed  soul,  he  presently 
found  comfort ;  for  he  breaketh  into  thanksgiving,  '  Thanks  be  to  God,'  &c. 
And  it  is  good  to  take  advantage  from  hence  to  hate  this  noisome  body  of 
death  the  more,  and  to  draw  nearer  unto  God,  as  that  holy  man  after  his 
'  foolish  and  beastly  thoughts,'  Ps.  Ixxiii.  22  and  28,  did,  and  to  keep  our 
hearts  closer  to  God,  seasoning  them  with  heavenly  meditations  in  the 
morning,  storing  up  good  matter  that  our  heart  may  be  a  good  treasury, 
and  begging  of  Christ  his  Holy  Spirit  to  stop  that  cursed  issue,  and  to  be  a 
living  spring  of  better  thoughts  in  us.  Nothing  more  abaseth  the  spirits  of 
holy  men  that  desire  to  delight  in  God  after  they  have  escaped  the  common 
defilements  of  the  world,  than  these  unclean  issues  of  spirit,  as  being  most 
contrary  to  God,  who  is  a  pure  Spirit :  but  the  very  irksomeness  of  them 
yields  matter  of  comfort  against  them ;  they  force  the  soul  to  all  spiritual 
exercises,  to  watchfulness,  and  a  more  near  walking  with  God,  and  to  raise 
itself  to  thoughts  of  a  higher  nature,  which  the  truth  of  God,  works  of  God, 
communion  of  saints,  the  mystery  of  godliness,  the  consideration  of  the 
terror  of  the  Lord,  of  the  excellency  of  the  state  of  a  Christian,  and  con- 
versation suitable,  do  abundantly  minister.  They  discover  to  us  a  necessity 
of  daily  pui-ging  and  pardoning  gi-ace,  and  of  seeking  to  be  found  in  Christ, 
and  so  bring  the  best  often  upon  their  knees. 

But  our  chiefcomfort  is,  that  our  blessed  Saviour,  as  he  bade  Satan  avaunt 
from  himself  after  he  had  given  waj  awhile  to  his  impudency.  Mat.  iv.  10  ; 
so  he  will  command  him  to  be  gone  from  us,  when  it  shall  be  good  for  us  ; 
he  must  be  gone  at  a  word.  And  he  can  and  will  likewise  in  his  due  time 
rebuke  the  rebellious  and  extravagant  stirrings  of  our  hearts,  and  bring  all 
the  thoughts  of  the  inner  man  in  subjection  to  himself. 

4.  Some  think,  when  they  begin  once  to  be  troubled  with  the  smoke  of 
corruption  more  than  they  were  before,  therefore  they  are  worse  than  they 
were.  It  is  true,  that  corruptions  appear  now  more  than  before,  but  they 
are  less. 

For,  first,  sin,  the  more  it  is  seen  the  more  it  is  hated,  and  thereupon  is  the 
less.     Motes  are  in  a  room  before  the  sun  shines,  but  they  then  onlv  appear. 

Sf.crmrlly,  contraries,  the  iiearer  they  are  one  to  another,  the  shaqDer  is 
the  conflict  betwixt~tliem  :  now  of  all  enemies  tiie  spn-it  and  tJie  flesh  are 
nearest  one  to  another,  being  both  in  the  soul  of  a  regenerate  man,  and  in 
faculties  of  the  soul,  and  in  every  action  that  springeth  from  those  faculties, 
and  therefore  it  is  no  marvel  the  soul,  the  seat  of  this  battle,  thufc  divided 
in  itself,  be  as  smoking  flax. 

Thirdly,  the  more  grace,  the  more  spiritual  life,  and  the  more  .spiritual 


AND  SMOKING  FL.\X.  65 

life,  the  more  antipathy  to  the  contrary ;  whence  none  are  so  sensible  of 
corruption,  as  those  that  have  the  most  Uving  souls. 

And  fouiiihly,  when  men  give  themselves  to  carnal  liberties,  their  corrup- 
tions trouble  them  not,  as  not  being  bound*  and  tied  up  ;  but  when  once 
grace  suppi-esseth  their  extravagant  and  licentious  excesses,  then  the  flesh 
boileth,  as  disdaining  to  be  confined ;  yet  they  are  better  now  than  they 
were  before.  That  matter  which  yields  smoke  was  in  the  torch  before  it 
was  lighted  ;  but  it  is  not  offensive  till  the  torch  begins  to  burn.  Let  such 
know,  that  if  the  smoke  be  once  offensive  to  them,  it  is  a  sign  that  there 
is  light.  It  is  better  to  enjoy  the  benefit  of  Ught,  though  with  smoke,  than 
to  be  altogether  in  the  dark. 

Neither  is  smoke  so  offensive,  as  light  is  comfortable  to  us,  it  yielding  an 
evidence  of  truth  of  grace  in  the  heart ;  therefore,  though  it  be  cumbersome 
in  the  conflict,  yet  it  is  comfortable  in  the  evidence.  It  is  better  corruption 
should  offend  us  now,  than  by  giving  way  to  it  to  redeem  a  little  peace  with 
loss  of  comfort  afterwards.  Let  such  therefore  as  are  at  variance  and  odds 
with  their  corruptions,  look  upon  this  text  as  their  portion  of  comfort. 


[Chaptek  Xin. — Set  upon  Duties  notwithstanding  Weaknesses.'] 

Here  is  an  use  of  encouragement  to  duty,  that  Christ  will  not  quench 
the  smoking  flax,  but  blow  it  up.  Some  are  loath  to  perform  good  duties, 
because  they  feel  their  hearts  rebelling,  and  duties  come  off  untowardiy. 
We  should  not  avoid  good  actions  for  the  infirmities  cleaving  unto  them. 
Christ  looketh  more  at  the  good  m  them  that  he  meaneth  to  cherish,  than 
the  ill  in  them  that  he  meaneth  to  abohsh.  A  sick  man,  though  in  eating 
he  something  increaseth  the  disease,  yet  he  will  eat,  that  natm-e  may  get 
strength  against  the  disease  ;  so  though  sin  cleaveth  to  what  we  do,  yet  let  us 
do  it,  since  we  have  to  deal  with  so  good  a  Lord,  and  the  more  strife  we 
meet  withal,  the  more  acceptance.  Christ  loveth  to  taste  of  the  good  fruits 
that  come  from  us,  although  they  will  always  relish  of  the  old  stock.  A 
Christian  complaineth  he  cannot  pray.  0  I  am  troubled  with  so  many 
distracting  thoughts,  and  never  more  than  now.  But  hath  he  put  into 
thine  heart  a  desire  to  pray  ?  He  will  hear  the  desires  of  his  own  Spirit 
in  thee.  '  We  know  not  what  to  pray  for  as  we  ought'  (nor  do  anything  else 
as  we  ought),  'but  the  Spirit  helpeth  our  infirmities,  with  inexpressible  sighs 
and  groans,'  Rom.  viii.  26,  which  are  not  hid  from  God.  '  My  groanings  aro 
not  hid  from  thee,'  Ps.  xxxviii.  9.  God  can  pick  sense  out  of  a  confused 
prayer.  These  desires  cry  louder  in  his  ears  than  thy  sins.  Sometimes 
a  Christian  hath  such  confused  thoughts,  he  can  say  nothing,  but  as  a  child 
crieth,  0  Father,  not  able  to  shew  what  it  needs,  as  Moses  at  the  Eed  Sea. 

These  stirrings  of  spirit  touch  the  bowels  of  God,  and  melt  him  into 
compassion  towards  us,  when  they  come  from  the  spirit  of  adoption,  and 
from  a  striving  to  be  better. 

Object.  Oh,  but  is  it  possible,  thinketh  the  misgiving  heai-t,  that  so  holy 
a  God  should  accept  such  a  prayer  ? 

Ans.  Yes,  he  will  accept  that  which  is  his  own,  and  pardon  that  which 
is  ours.  '  Jonah  prayed  in  the  whale's  belly,'  Jonah  ii.  1,  being  burdened 
with  the  guilt  of  sin,  yet  God  heareth  him.  Let  not,  therefore,  infinnities 
discourage  us.  St  James  takes  away  this  objection,  v.  17.  Some  might 
object,  If  I  were  as  holy  as  Elias,  then  my  prayers  might  be  regarded ; 

*  '  Bounded,'  in  G. 

VOL.  I.  B 


66  THE  BRUISED  EEED 

but,  saith  he,  '  Elias  was  a  man  of  like  passions  to  us,'  he  had  his  passions 
as  well  as  we ;  for  do  we  think  that  God  heard  him  because  he  was  with- 
out fault  ?  No,  surely.  But  look  we  to  the  promises  :  '  Call  upon  me  in 
the  day  of  trouble,  and  I  will  hear  thee,'  Ps.  1.  15;  'Ask  and  ye  shall 
receive,'  Matt.  vii.  7 ;  and  such  like.  God  accepteth  our  prayers,  though 
weak.  1.  Because  we  are  his  own  children,  they  come  from  his  own  Spirit. 
2.  Because  they  are  according  to  his  own  will.  3.  Because  they  are  offered 
in  Christ's  mediation,  and  he  takes  them,  and  mingleth  them  with  his  own 
odours.  Rev.  viii.  3.  There  is  never  a  holy  sigh,  never  a  tear  we  shed,  lost. 
And  as  every  gi'ace  increaseth  by  exercise  of  itself,  so  doth  the  grace  of 
prayer.  By  prayer  we  learn  to  pray.  So,  likewise,  we  should  take  heed 
of  a  spirit  of  discouragement  in  all  other  holy  duties,  since  we  have  so  gra- 
cious a  Saviour.  Pray  as  we  are  able,  hear  as  we  are  able,  strive  as  we 
are  able,  do  as  we  are  able,  according  to  the  measure  of  grace  received. 
God  in  Christ  will  cast  a  gracious  eye  upon  that  which  is  his  owa.  Would 
St  Paul  do  nothiag,  because  'he  could  not  do  the  good  he  would  ? '  Phil.  iii. 
14.  Yes,  he  '  pressed  to  the  mark.'  Let  us  not  be  cruel  to  ourselves  when 
Christ  is  thus  gracious. 

There  is  a  certain  meekness  of  spirit  whereby  we  yield  thanks  to  God 
for  any  ability  at  all,  and  rest  quiet  with  the  measure  of  grace  received, 
seeing  it  is  God's  good  pleasure  it  should  be  so,  who  giveth  the  will  and 
the  deed,  yet  so  as  we  rest  not  from  further  endeavours.  But  when,  upon 
faithful  endeavour,  we  come  short  of  that  we  would  be,  and  short  of  that 
others  are,  then  know  for  our  comfort,  Christ  wiU  not  quench  the  smoking 
flax,  and  that  sincerity  and  truth,  as  before  was  said,  with  endeavour  of 
growth,  is  our  perfection.  It  is  comfortable  what  God  saith,  *  He  only 
shall  go  to  his  grave  in  peace,  because  there  is  some  goodness,'  1  Kings 
xiv.  13,  though  but  some  goodness.  '  Lord,  I  believe,'  Mark  ix.  24,  with 
a  weak  faith,  yet  with  faith ;  love  thee  with  a  faint  love,  yet  with  love ; 
endeavour  in  a  feeble  manner,  yet  endeavour.  A  little  fire  is  fire,  though 
it  smoketh.  Since  thou  hast  taken  me  into  thy  covenant  to  be  thine  of  an 
enemy,  wilt  thou  cast  me  ofi"  for  these  infirmities,  which,  as  they  displease 
thee,  so  are  they  the  grief  of  my  own  heart  ? 


[Chapter  XIV. — The  Case  of  Indisposition  Resolved,  and  Discouragements.] 

1.  From  what  hath  been  spoken,  with  some  little  addition,  it  will  not  be 
difl&cult  to  resolve  that  case  which  some  require  help  in,  namely,  whether 
we  ought  to  perform  duties,  our  hearts  being  altogether  indisposed.  For 
satisfaction  we  must  know,  1,  Our  hearts  of  themselves  do  linger  after 
hberty,  and  are  hardly  brought  under  the  yoke  of  duty ;  and  the  more 
spiritual  the  duty  is,  the  more  is  their  untowardness.  Corruption  getteth 
ground,  for  the  most  part,  in  every  neglect.  It  is  as  in  rowing  against  the 
tide,  one  stroke  neglected  will  not  be  gained  in  three  ;  and  therefore  it  is 
good  to  keep  our  hearts  close  to  duty,  and  not  to  hearken  unto  the  excuses 
they  are  ready  to  frame. 

2.  In  the  setting  upon  duty,  God  strengtheneth  his  own  party  that  ha 
hath  in  us.  We  find  a  warmness  of  heart,  and  increase  of  strength,  the 
Spirit  going  along  with  us,  and  raismg  us  up  by  degrees,  until  it  leaveth 
us  as  it  were  in  heaven.  God  often  dehghteth  to  take  the  advantage  of 
our  indisposition,  that  he  may  manifest  his  work  the  more  clearly,  and  that 
all  the  glory  of  the  work  may  be  his,  whose  all  the  strength  is. 


AND  SMOKING  FLAX.  67 

8.  Obedience  is  most  direct  when  there  is  nothing  else  to  sweeten  the 
action.  Although  the  sacrifice  be  imperfect,  yet  the  obedience  with  which 
it  is  offered  hath  acceptance. 

4.  That  which  is  won  as  a  spoil  from  our  corruptions  will  have  such  a 
degree  of  comfort  afterwards,  as  for  the  present  it  hath  of  cumber.  Feeling  and 
freeness  of  spirit  is  oft  reserved  until  duty  be  discharged  ;  reward  foUoweth 
work.  In  and  after  duty  we  find  that  experience  of  God's  presence  which, 
without  obedience,  we  may  long  wait  for,  and  yet  go  without.  This  hin- 
dereth  not  the  Spirit's  freedom  in  blowing  upon  our  souls  when  it  listeth, 
John  iii.  8.  For  we  speak  only  of  such  a  state  of  soul  as  is  becalmed,  and 
must  row,  as  it  were,  against  the  stream.  As  in  sailing,  the  hand  must  be 
to  the  stern,  and  the  eye  to  the  star ;  so  here,  put  forth  that  little  strength 
we  have  to  duty,  and  look  up  for  assistance,  which*  the  Spirit,  as  freely,  so 
seasonably  will  afi'ord. 

Caution.  (1.)  Yet  in  these  duties,  that  require  as  well  the  body  as  the 
soul,  there  may  be  a  cessation  till  strength  be  repaired.  Whetting  doth 
not  let  (d),  but  fit.  (2.)  In  sudden  passions  there  should  be  a  time  to  com- 
pose and  calm  the  soul,  and  to  put  the  strings  in  tune.  The  prophet  would 
have  a  minstrel  to  bring  his  soul  into  frame,  1  Sam.  xvi.  16,  17. 

So  likewise  we  are  subject  to  discouragements  in  suffering,  by  reason  of 
impatience  in  us.  Alas !  I  shall  never  get  through  such  a  cross.  But  if  * 
God  bring  us  into  the  cross,  he  will  be  with  us  in  the  cross,  and  at  length 
bring  us  out  more  refined ;  we  shall  lose  nothing  but  dross,  Zech.  xiii.  9. 
Of  our  o^Ti  strength  we  cannot  bear  the  least  trouble,  and  by  the  Spirit's 
assistance  we  can  bear  the  greatest.  The  Spirit  will  join  his  shoulders  to 
help  us  to  bear  our  infirmities.  '  The  Lord  will  put  his  hand  to  heave  us 
up,'  Ps.  xxxvii.  24.  '  You  have  heard  of  the  patience  of  Job,'  saith  James, 
chap.  V.  11.  We  have  heard  likewise  of  his  impatiency  too  ;  but  it  pleased 
God  mercifully  to  overlook  that.  It  yields  us  comfort  also  in  desolate  con- 
ditions, as  contagious  sicknesses,  and  the  like,  wherein  we  are  more  imme- 
diately under  God's  hand.  Then  Christ  hath  a  throne  of  mercy  at  our 
bed's  side,  and  numbers  our  tears  and  our  groans.  And,  to  come  to  the 
matter  we  are  now  about,  the  Sacrament, f  it  was  ordained  not  for  angels, 
but  for  men ;  and  not  for  perfect  men,  but  for  weak  men ;  and  not  for 
Christ,  who  is  truth  itself,  to  bind  him,  but  because  we  are  ready,  by  rea- 
son of  our  guilty  and  unbelieving  hearts,  to  call  truth  itself  into  question. 
Therefore  it  was  not  enough  for  his  goodness  to  leave  us  many  precious 
promises,  but  he  giveth  us  seals  to  strengthen  us ;  and,  what  though  we 
are  not  so  prepared  as  we  should,  yet  let  us  pray  as  Hezekiah  did  :  '  Thel 
Lord  pardon  every  one  that  prepareth  his  heart  to  seek  the  Lord  God  of  I 
his  fathers,  though  he  be  not  cleansed  according  to  the  purification  of  the  j 
sanctuary,'  2  Chron.  xxx.  19.  Then  we  come  comfortably  to  this  holy 
sacrament,  and  with  much  fruit.  This  should  carry  us  through  all  duties 
with  much  cheerfulness,  that,  if  we  hate  our  corruptions,  and  strive  against 
them,  they  shall  not  be  counted  ours.  It  is  not  I,  saith  St  Paul,  but  '  sin 
that  dwelleth  in  me,'  Rom.  vii.  17  ;  for  what  displeaseth  us  shall  never  hurt 
us,  quod  non  placet,  non  nocet,  and  we  shall  be  esteemed  of  God  to  be  that 
we  love,  and  desire,  and  labour  to  be.  What  we  desire  to  be  we  shall  be, 
and  what  we  desire  truly  to  conquer  we  shall  conquer ;  for  God  will  fulfil 
the  desire  of  them  that  fear  him,  Ps.  cxlv.  19.  The  desire  is  an  earnest  of 
the  thing  desired.     How  little  encouragement  will  carry  us  to  the  affairs  of 

*  '"Which  ....  afford,'  not  in  A,  B,  but  in  E. 

t  Marginal  note — This  was  preached  at  the  Sacrament 


QQ  THE  BRUISED  EEED 

this  life !  And  yet  all  tlie  helps  God  offers  will  hardly  prevail  with  our 
backward  natures.  Whence  are,  then,  discouragements?  1.  Not  from 
the  Father,  for  he  hath  bound  himself  in  covenant  '  to  pity  us  as  a  father 
pitieth  his  children,'  Ps.  ciii.  13,  and  to  accept  as  a  father  our  weak  endea- 
vours ;  and  what  is  wanting  in  the  strength  of  duty,  he  giveth  us  leave  to 
take  up  in  his  gracious  indulgence,  whereby  we  shall  honour  that  grace 
wherein  he  delights,  as  much  as  in  more  perfect  performances.  PossibiUtas 
tua  mensura  tua. 

2.  Not  from  Christ,  for  he  oy  office  will  not  quench  the  smoking  flax. 
We  see*  how  Christ  bestoweth  the  best  fruits  of  his  love  upon  persons,  for 
condition  mean,  for  parts  weak,  for  infii-mities,  nay,  for  grosser  falls,  offen- 
sive :  first,  thus  it  pleaseth  him  to  confound  the  pride  of  flesh,  which 
usually  taketh  measure  of  God's  love  by  some  outward  excellency.  Secondly , 
thus  he  is  delighted  to  shew  the  fi-eedom  of  his  grace  and  his  prerogative 
royal,  that  '  whosoever  glorieth,  may  glory  in  the  Lord,'  1  Cor.  i.  31. 

In  the  eleventh  to  the  Hebrews,  among  that  cloud  of  witnesses,  we  see 
Rahab,  Gideon,  and  Samson,  ranked  with  Abraham  the  father  of  the  faith- 
ful, Heb.  xi.  31,  82.  Our  blessed  Saviour,  as  he  was  the  image  of  his 
Father,  so  in  this  he  was  of  the  same  mind,  glorifying  his  Father  for  re- 
vealing the  mystery  of  the  gospel  to  simple  men,  neglecting  those  that 
carried  the  chief  reputation  of  wisdom  in  the  world,  Heb.  xi.  31,  32. 

It  isf  not  unworthy  of  the  remembering  that  which  Saint  Augustine 
speakethj  of  a  silly  man  in  his  time,  destitute  almost  altogether  of  the  use 
of  reason,  who  when  he  was  most  patient  of  all  injuries  done  to  himself, 
yet  from  a  reverence  of  religion  he  would  not  endure  any  injury  done  to 
the  name  of  Christ ;  insomuch  that  he  would  cast  stones  at  those  that 
blasphemed,  and  would  not  in  that  case  spare  his  own  governors  ;  which 
sheweth  that  the  pai'ts  of  none  are  so  low,  as  that  they  are  beneath  the 
gracious  regard  of  Christ ;  where  it  pleaseth  him  to  make  his  choice,  and  to 
exalt  his  mercy,  he  passeth  by  no  degree  of  wit,  though  never  so  plain. 

3.  Neither  do  discouragements  come  from  the  Spirit ;  §  he  helps  our 
infirmities,  and  by  office  is  a  comforter,  Rom.  viii.  26.  If  he  convinceth 
of  sin,  and  so  humbleth  us,  it  is  that  he  may  make  way  to  shew  his  office 
of  comforting  us.  Discouragements,  then,  must  come  from  ourselves  and 
Satan,  who  laboureth  to  fasten  on  us  a  loathing  of  duty. 


[Chapter  XV. — Of  infirmities.     No  cause  of  discouragement.     In  whom 
they  are.     And  how  to  recover  peace  lost.'\ 

And  among  other  causes  of  discouragement,  some  are  much  vexed  with 
scruples,  even  against  the  best  duties  ;  partly  by  distemper  of  body,  helped 
by  Satan's  mahce,  casting  dust  in  their  eyes,  in  their  way  to  heaven  ;  and 
partly  from  some  remainder  of  ignorance,  which  like  darkness  breedeth 
fears  ;  and  as  ignorance  of  other  things,  so  especially  of  this  merciful  dis- 
position in  Christ,  the  persuasion  of  which  would  easily  banish  false  fears, 
they  conceive  of  him  as  one  sitting  at  a  catch  for  aU  advantages  against 
them  ;  wherein  they  may  see  how  they  wrong  not  only  themselves  but  his 
goodness.     This  scrupulosity,  for  the  most  part,  is  a  sign  of  a  godly  soul, 

*  'We  see'  ....  to  'wisdom  in  the  world.'     This  paragraph  added  first  in  B. 
T  '  It  is'  ...  to  '  never  so  plain.'     This  paragraph  not  in  A,  B,  but  in  E. 
X  Aug.  de  peccatorum  meritis  et  remiss.,  lib.  i.  cap.  14. 
i  '  Not  from  tba  Suirit,'  in  A. 


AND  SMOKING  FLAX.  69 

as  some  weeds  are  of  a  good  soil :  therefore  are  they  the  more  to  be  pitied, 
for  it  is  a  heavy  affliction,  and  the  ground  of  it  in  most  is  not  so  much  from 
trouble  of  conscience,  as  from  sickness  of  fantasy.  The  end  of  Christ's 
coming  was  to  free  us  from  all  such  groundless  fears. 

There  is  still  in  some,  such  ignorance  of  that  comfortable  condition  we  are 
in  under  the  covenant  of  grace,  as  by  it  they  are  much  discouraged.  There- ^ 
fore  we  must  know,  1,  That  weaknesses  do  not  break  covenant  with  God. 
They  do  not  between  husband  and  wife ;  and  shall  we  make  ourselves  more 
pitiful  than  Christ,  who  maketh  himseK  a  pattern  of  love  to  all  other 
husbands  ?  2.  Weaknesses  do  not  debar  us  from  mercy,  nay,  they  incline 
God  the  more,  Ps.  Ixxviii.  39.  Mercy  is  a  part  of  the  church's  jointure, 
*  Christ  marries  her  in  mercy,'  Hos.  ii.  19.  The  husband  is  bound  to  bear 
with  the  wife,  as  '  being  the  weaker  vessel,'  1  Pet.  iii.  7;  and  shall  we  think 
he  will  exempt  himself  from  his  own  rule,  and  not  bear  with  his  weak  spouse  ? 

3.  If  Christ  should  not  be  merciful  to  our  infii'mities,  he  should  not  have 
a  people  to  serve  him. 

Put  case  therefore  we  be  very  weak,  yet  so  long  as  we  are  not  found 
amongst  maUcious  opposers  and  underminers  of  God's  truth,  let  us  not  give 
way  to  despairing  thoughts  ;  we  have  a  merciful  Saviour.  But  lest  we 
flatter  ourselves  without  ground,  we  must  know  that  weaknesses  are  accounted 
either,  1,  Imperfections  cleaving  to  our  best  actions ;  or,  2,  Such  actions 
as  proceed  from  want  of  age  in  Christ,  whilst  we  are  babes  ;  or,  3, 
From  want  of  strength,  where  there  hath  been  little  means ;  or,  4,  They 
are  sudden  indeliberate  breakings  out,  contrary  to  our  general  bent  and 
purpose,  whilst  our  judgment  is  overcast  with  the  cloud  of  a  sudden  temp- 
tation. After  which,  1,  we  are  sensible  of  our  infirmity;  2,  We  grieve  for 
it;  3,  And  from  grief,  complain;  and  4,  With  complaining  strive  and  labour 
to  reform  ;  and  5,  In  labouring  get  some  gi'ound  of  our  corruption. 

Weaknesses*  so  considered,  howsoever  they  be  matter  of  humiliation, 
and  the  object  of  our  daily  mortification,  yet  may  stand  with  boldness  with 
God,  neither  is  a  good  work  either  extinguished  by  them,  or  tainted  so  far 
as  to  lose  all  acceptance  with  God.  But  to  plead  for  an  infirmity  is  more 
than  an  infirmity;  to  allow  ourselves  in  weaknesses  is  more  than  a  weakness. 
The  justification  of  evil  sealeth  up  the  lips,  so  that  the  soul  cannot  call  God 
Father  with  that  child-like  liberty,  or  enjoy  sweet  communion  with  him, 
until  peace  be  made  by  shaming  ourselves,  aud  renewing  our  faith.  Those 
that  have  ever  been  bruised  for  sin,  if  they  fall  they  are  soon  recovered.  Peter 
was  recovered  with  a  gracious  look  of  Christ ;  David  by  Abigail's  words. 
Tell  a  thief  or  a  vagrant  that  he  is  out  of  the  way,  he  regards  it  not,  because 
his  aim  is  not  to  walk  in  any  certain  way,  but  as  it  serveth  his  own  turn. 

For  the  further  clearing  of  this,  we  must  conceive,  1,  That  wheresoever 
sins  of  infirmity  are,  there  in  that  person  must  be  the  life  of  grace  begun. 
There  can  be  no  weakness,  where  there  is  no  life.  2.  There  must  be  a 
sincere  and  general  bent  to  the  best  things  ;  though  for  a  sudden  a  godly 
man  be  drawn  or  driven  aside  in  some  particulars,  yet  by  reason  of  that  in- 
terest the  Spirit  of  Christ  hath  in  him,  and  because  his  aims  are  right  for 
the  main,  he  will  either  recover  of  himself,  or  yield  to  the  counsel  of  others. 
8.  There  must  be  a  right  judgment  allowing  of  the  best  ways,  or  else  the 
heart  is  rotten,  and  infuseth  corruption  into  the  whole  conversation,  so  that 
aU  their  actions  become  infected  at  the  spring-head  ;  they  justify  looseness, 
and  condemn  God's  ways,  as  too  much  strictness ;  their  principles  whereby 
they  work  are  not  good.     4.  There  must  be   a  conjugal  love  to  Christ,  so 

*  'Weaknesses'  .  .  to 'perfectelh  his  strength.'    This  paragraph  first  added  in  B 


70  THE  BBXTISED  REED 

as  upon  no  terms  they  will  change  their  Lord  and  hushand,  and  yield 
themselves  absolutely  over  to  be  ruled  by  their  own  lusts,  or  the  lusts  oi 
others. 

A  Christian's  carriage  towards  Christ  may  in  many  things  be  very  offen- 
sive, and  cause  some  strangeness  ;  yet  he  will  own  Christ,  and  Christ  him ,: 
he  wiU  not  resolve  upon  any  way  wherein  he  knows  he  must  break  witK 
Christ. 

Where  the  heart  is  thus  in  these  respects  qualified,  there  we  must  kno'sii 
this,  that  Chi-ist  counteth  it  his  honour  to  pass  by  many  infirmities,  nay,  in 
infirmities  he  perfecteth  his  strength.  There  be  some  almost  invincible 
infirmities,*  as  forgetfulness,  heaviness  of  spirit,  sudden  passions,  fears,  &c., 
which  though  natural,  yet  are  for  the  most  part  tainted  with  sin;  of  these, f 
if  the  life  of  Christ  be  in  us,  we  are  weary,  and  would  fain  shake  them  off, 
as  a  sick  man  his  ague ;  otherwise  it  is  not  to  be  esteemed  weakness  so 
much  as  wilfulness,  and  the  more  will,  the  more  sin  ;  and  little  sins,  when 
God  shall  awake  the  conscience,  and  '  set  them  in  order  before  us,'  Ps.  1.  21, 
will  prove  great  burdens,  and  not  only  bruise  a  reed,  but  shake  a  cedar. 
Yet  God's  children  never  sin  with  full  will,  because  there  is  a  contrary  law 
of  the  mind,  whereby  the  dominion  of  sin  is  broken,  which  always  hath  some 
secret  working  against  the  law  of  sin.  Notwithstanding^  there  may  be  so 
much  will  in  a  sinful  action,  as  may  wonderfully  waste  our  comfort  after- 
ward, and  keep  us  long  upon  the  rack  of  a  disquieted  conscience,  God  in  his 
fatherly  dispensation  suspending  the  sense  of  his  love.  So  much  as  we  give 
way  to  our  vrill  in  sinning,  in  such  a  measure  of  distance  we  set  ourselves 
from  comfort.  Sin  against  conscience  is  as  a  thief  in  the  candle,  which 
wasteth  our  joy,  and  thereby  weakeneth  our  strength.  We  must  know, 
therefore,  that  wilful  breeches  in  sanctification  will  much  hinder  the  sense  of 
our  justification. 

Quest.  What  course  shall  such  take  to  recover  their  peace  ? 

Ans.  Such  must  give  a  sharp  sentence  against  themselves,  and  yet  cast 
themselves  upon  God's  mercy  in  Christ,  as  at  their  first  conversion.  And 
now  they  had  need  to  clasp  about  Christ  the  faster,  as  they  see  more  need 
in  themselves,  and  let  them  remember  the  mildness  of  Christ  here,  that  will 
not  quench  the  smoking  flax.  Ofttimes  we  see  that,  after  a  deep  humiliation, 
Christ  speaks  more  peace  than  before,  to  witness  the  truth  of  this  recon- 
ciliation, because  he  knows  Satan's  enterprises  in  casting  down  such,  lower, 
and  because  such  are  most  abased  iii  themselves,  and  are  ashamed  to  look 
Christ  in  the  face,  by  reason  of  their  unkindness.  We  see  God  did  not 
only  pardon  David,  but  after  much  bruising  gave  him  wise  Solomon  to  suc- 
ceed him  in  the  kingdom.  We  see  in  the  Canticles,  chap.  vi.  44,  that  the 
church,  after  she  had  been  humbled  for  her  slighting  of  Christ,  Christ 
sweetly  entertains  her  again,  and  falleth  into  commendation  of  her  beauty. 
We  must  know  for  our  comfort  that  Christ  was  not  anointed  to  this  great 
work  of  the  mediator  for  lesser  sins  only,  but  for  the  greatest,  if  we  have 
but  a  spark  of  true  faith  to  lay  hold  on  him.  Therefore,  if  there  be  any 
bruised  reed,  let  him  not  except  himself,  when  Christ  doth  not  except  him  ; 
'  Come  unto  me,  aU  ye  that  are  weary  and  heavy  laden,'  &c..  Matt.  xi.  28. 
Why  should  we  not  make  use  of  so  gracious  a  disposition  ?  we  are  only 
therefore  poor,  because  we  know  not  our  riches  in  Christ.  In  time  of 
temptation,  rather  beheve  Christ  than  the  devil,  beheve  truth  from  truth 
itself,  hearken  not  to  a  liar,  an  enemy,  and  a  murderer. 

*  A  necessitatibus  meis  libera  me  Domine. — Aug  \ustine\. 
t  '  If  ....  in  us,'  added  in  B.  J  '  Yet,'  in  A, 


AND  SMOKING  FLAX.  71 


[Chapter  XVI. — Satan  not  to  be  believed,  as  he  representetli  Christ  unto  us.'\ 

Since  Chxist  is  thus  comfortably  set  out  unto  us,  let  us  not  believe  Satan's 
representations  of  him.  When  we  are  troubled  in  conscience  for  our  sins, 
his  manner  is  then  to  present  him  to  the  afflicted  soul  as  a  most  severe 
judge  armed  with  justice  against  us.  But  then  let  us  present  him  to  our 
souls,  as  thus  ofiered  to  our  view  by  God  himself,  as  holding  out  a  sceptre 
of  mercy,  and  spreading  his  arms  to  receive  us.  When  we  think  of  Joseph, 
Daniel,  John  the  Evangelist,  &c.,  we  frame  conceits  of  them  with  delight,  as 
of  mild  and  sweet  persons  ;  much  more  when  we  think  of  Christ,  we  should 
conceive  of  him  as  a  mirror  of  all  meeloiess.  If  the  sweetness  of  all  flowers 
were  in  one,  how  sweet  must  that  flower  needs  be  ?  In  Christ  all  perfec- 
tions of  mercy  and  love  meet ;  how  great  then  must  that  mercy  be  that 
lodgeth  in  so  gracious  a  heart  ?  whatsoever  tenderness  is  scattered  in  hus- 
band, father,  brother,  head,  all  is  but  a  beam  from  him,  it  is  in  him  in  the 
most  eminent  manner.  We  are  weak,  but  we  are  his ;  we  are  deformed, 
but  yet  cany  his  image  upon  us.  A  father  looks  not  so  much  at  the 
blemishes  of  his  child,  as  at  his  own  nature  in  him  ;  so  Christ  finds  matter 
of  love  from  that  which  is  his  own  in  us.  He  sees  his  owti  nature  in  us  : 
we  are  diseased,  but  yet  his  members.  "WTio  ever  neglected  his  own  mem- 
bers because  they  were  sick  or  weak  ?  none  ever  hated  his  own  flesh.  Can 
the  head  forget  the  members  ?  can  Christ  forget  himself  ?  we  are  his  falness, 
as  he  is  ours.  He  was  love  itself  clothed  with  man's  nature,  which  he 
united  so  near  to  himself,  that  he  might  communicate  his  goodness  the  more 
fi-eely  unto  us ;  and  took  not  our  nature  when  it  was  at  the  best,  but  when 
it  was  abased,  with  all  natural  and  common  infirmities  it  was  subject  unto. 
Let  us  therefore  abhor  all  suspicious  thoughts,  as  either  cast  in  or 
cherished  by  that  damned  spirit,  who  as  he  laboured  to  divide  between  the 
Father  and  the  Son  by  jealousies,  '  If  thou  be  the  Son  of  God,'  &c.,  Matt. 
iv.  6,  so  his  daily  study  is,  to  divide  betwixt  the  Son  and  us,  by  breeding 
mispersuasions  in  us  of  Christ,  as  if  there  were  not  such  tender  love  in  him 
to  such  as  we  are.  It  was  his  art  from  the  beginning  to  discredit  God  with 
man,  by  calling  God's  love  into  question,  with  our  first  father  Adam ;  his 
success  then  makes  him  ready  at  that  weapon  still. 

Object.  But  for  all  this,  I  feel  not  Christ  so  to  me,  saith  the  smoking 
flax,  but  rather  the  clean  contrary  ;  he  seemeth  to  be  an  enemy  unto  me,  I 
see  and  feel  evidences  of  his  just  displeasure, 

Ans.  Christ  may  act  the  part  of  an  enemy  a  little  while,  as  Joseph  did, 
but  it  is  to  make  way  for  acting  his  own  part  of  mercy  in  a  more  seasonable 
time ;  he  cannot  hold  in  his  bowels  long.  He  seemeth  to  wrestle  with  us,  as 
with  Jacob,  but  he  supplies  us  with  hidden  strength,  at  length  to  get  the 
better.  Faith  pulls  ofi"  the  vizard  from  his  face,  and  sees  a  loving  heart 
under  contrary  appearances.  Fides  Christo  larvam  detrahit.  At  first  he 
answers  the  woman  of  Canaan  crying  after  him  not  a  word ;  2,  Then  gives 
her  a  denial ;  3,  Gives  an  answer  tending  to  her  reproach,  calling  her  dog,  as 
being  without  the  covenant ;  yet  she  would  not  be  so  beaten  ofi",  for  she 
considered  the  end  of  his  coming.  As  his  Father  was  never  nearer  him  in 
strength  to  support  him,  than  when  he  was  fm-thest  off  in  sense  of  favour 
to  comfort  him  ;  so  Christ  is  never  nearer  us  in  power  to  uphold  us,  than 
when  he  seemeth  most  to  hide  his  presence  from  us.  The  influence  of  the  Sun 
of  righteousness  pierceth  deeper  than  his  light.  In  such  cases,  whatsoever 
Christ's  present  carriage  is  towards  us,  let  us  oppose  his  nature  and  ofiice 


72  THE  BRUISED  KEED 

against  it ;  he  cannot  deny  himself,  he  cannot  but  discharge  tne  office  his 
Father  hath  laid  upon  him.  We  see  here  the  Father  hath  undertaken  that 
he  shall  not  '  quench  the  smoking  flax  ;'  and  Christ  again  undertaking  for 
us  to  the  Father,  appearing  before  him  for  us,  until  he  presents  us  blame- 
less before  him,  John  xvii.  6,  11.  The  Father  hath  given  us  to  Christ, 
and  Christ  giveth  us  back  again  to  the  Father. 

Object.  This  were  good  comfort,  if  I  were  but  as  smoking  flax. 

Jns.  It  is  well  that  thy  objection  pincheth  upon  thyself,  and  not  upon 
Christ ;  it  is  well  thou  givest  him  the  honour  of  his  mercy  towards  others, 
though  not  to  thyself :  but  yet  do  not  wrong  the  work  of  his  Spirit  in  thy 
heart.  Satan,  as  he  slandereth  Christ  to  us,  so  he  slandereth  us  to  our- 
selves. If  thou  beest  not  so  much  as  smoking  flax,  then  why  dost  thou  not 
renounce  thy  interest  in  Christ,  and  disclaim  the  covenant  of  grace  ?  This 
thou  darest  not  do.  Why  dost  thou  not  give  up  thyself  wholly  to  other  con- 
tents ?  This  thy  spirit  will  not  suffer  thee.  Whence  come  these  restless 
groanings  and  complaints  ?  lay  this  thy  present  estate,  together  with  this 
office  of  Christ  to  such,  and  do  not  despise  the  consolation  of  the  Almighty, 
nor  refuse  thy  own  mercy.  Cast  thyself  into  the  arms  of  Christ,  and  if 
thou  perishest,  perish  there ;  if  thou  dost  not,  thou  art  sure  to  perish.  If 
mercy  be  to  be  found  anywhere,  it  is  there. 

Herein  appears  Christ's  care  to  thee,  that  he  hath  given  thee  a  heart  in  some 
degree  sensible :  he  might  have  given  thee  up  to  hardness,  security  and  profane- 
ness  of  heart,  of  all  spiritual  judgments  the  greatest.  He  that  died  for  his 
enemies,  will  he  refuse  those,  the  desire  of  v/hose  soul  is  towards  him  ?  He 
that  by  his  messengers  desires  us  to  be  reconciled,  \vill  he  put  us  off  when  we 
earnestly  seek  it  at  his  hand  ?  No,  doubtless,  when  he  prevents  us  by  kind- 
ling holy  desires  in  us,  he  is  ready  to  meet  us  in  his  own  ways.  When  the 
prodigal  set  himself  to  return  to  his  father,  his  father  stays  not  for  him,  but 
meets  him  in  the  way.  '  When  he  prepares  the  heart  to  seek,  he  will  cause  his 
ear  to  hear,'  Ps.  x.  17.  He  cannot  find  in  his  heart  to  hide  himself  long  from 
us.  If  God  should  bring  us  into  such  a  dark  condition,  as  that  we  should 
see  no  light  from  himself,  or  the  creature,  then  let  us  remember  what  he 
saith  by  the  prophet  Isaiah,  '  He  that  is  in  darkness,  and  seeth  no  light,' 
Isa.  1.  10,  no  light  of  comfort,  no  light  of  God's  countenance,  '  yet  let  him 
trust  in  the  name  of  the  Lord.'  We  can  never  be  in  such  a  condition, 
wherein  there  will  be  just  cause  of  utter  despair ;  therefore  let  us  do  as 
mariners  do,  cast  anchor  in  the  dark.  Christ  knows  how  to  pity  us  in  this 
case ;  look  what  comfort  he  felt  from  his  Father  in  his  breakings,  Isa.  liii. 
5,  the  like  we  shall  feel  from  himself  in  om-  bruising. 

The  sighs  of  a  bruised  heart  carry  in  them  some  report,  as  of  our  affec- 
tion to  Christ,  so  of  his  care  to  us.  The  eyes  of  our  souls  cannot  be  towards 
him,  but  that  he  hath  cast  a  gracious  look  upon  us  first.  The  least  love  we 
have  to  him  is  but  a  reflection  of  his  love  first  shining  upon  us.  As  Christ 
did  in  his  example  whatsoever  he  gives  us  in  charge  to  do,  so  he  suffered  in 
his  own  person  whatsoever  he  caUeth  us  to  suffer,  that  he  might  the  better 
learn  to  relieve  and  pity  us  in  our  sufferings.  In  his  desertion  in  the 
garden,  and  upon  the  cross,  he  was  content  to  want  that  unspeakable  solace 
in  the  presence  of  his  Father,  both  to  bear  the  wrath  of  the  Lord  for  a  time 
for  us,  and  likewise  to  know  the  better  how  to  comfort  us  in  our  greatest 
extremities.  God  seeth  it  fit  we  should  taste  of  that  cup  of  which  his  Son 
drank  so  deep,  that  we  might  feel  a  little  what  sin  is,  and  what  his  Son's 
love  was  ;  but  our  comfort  is,  that  Christ  di-ank  the  dregs  of  the  cup  for 
us,  and  will  succour  us,  that  our  spirits  utterly  fail  not  under  that  Uttle 


AND  SMOKING  FLAX.  73 

taste  of  his  displeasure  which  we  may  feel.  He  became  not  only  a  man, 
but  a  curse,  a  man  of  sorrows  for  us.  He  was  broken,  that  we  should  not 
be  broken  ;  he  was  troubled,  that  we  should  not  be  desperately  troubled  ; 
he  became  a  cui'se,  that  we  should  not  be  accursed.  "Whatsoever  may  be 
wished  for   in  an  all-sufficient  comforter,    is  all  to  be  found  in    Christ, 

1.  Authority  from  the  Father,  all  power  was  given  him,'  Matt,  xxviii.  18. 

2.  Strength  in  himself,  as  having  his  name  the  mighty  God,  Isa.  ix.  6. 

3.  Wisdom,  and  that  from  his  own  experience,  how  and  when  to  help. 

4.  Willingness,  as  being  flesh  of  our  flesh,  and  bone  of  our  bone,  Isa.  ix.  6. 


[Chapter  XVII. — Reproof  of  such  as  sin  against  this  merciful  disposition  in 
Christ.     Of  quenching  the  Spirit.] 

We  are  now  to  take  notice  of  divers  sorts  of  men  that  offend  deeply 
against  this  merciful  disposition  of  Christ :  as,  1,  Such  as  go  on  in  all  ill 
courses  of  life  upon  this  conceit,  as  if  it  were  in  vain  to  go  to  Christ,  their 
lives  have  been  so  iU ;  whenas  so  soon  as  we  look  to  heaven,  all  encourage- 
ments are  ready  to  meet  us  and  draw  us  forward.  Amongst  others  this  is 
one  allurement,  that  Christ  is  ready  to  welcome  us,  and  lead  us  further. 
None  are  damned  in  the  church  but  those  that  will.  Such  as  either  enforce 
upon  themselves  hard  conceits  of  Chi-ist,  that  they  may  have  some  show  of 
reason  to  fetch  contentment  from  other  things  :  as  that  unprofitable  ser- 
vant, Matt.  XXV.  30,  that  would  needs  take  up  a  conceit,  that  his  master 
was  a  hard  man ;  hereby  to  flatter  himself  in  his  unfruitful  coui'ses,  in  not 
improving  that  talent  which  he  had. 

2.  Such  as  take  up  a  hope  of  their  own,  that  Christ  will  suffer  them  to 
walk  in  the  ways  to  hell,  and  yet  bring  them  to  heaven  :  whereas  all  com- 
fort should  di'aw  us  nearer  to  Christ,  else  it  is  a  lying  comfort,  either  in 
itself  or  in  our  application  of  it. 

And  3.  Those  that  will  cast  water  themselves  upon  those  sparks  which 
Christ  labours  to  kindle  in  them,  because  they  will  not  be  troubled  with  the 
light  of  them. 

Such  must  know  that  the  Lamb  can  be  angry,  and  they  that  will  not 
come  under  his  sceptre  of  mercy,  shall  be  crushed  in  pieces  by  his  sceptre 
of  power,  Ps.  ii.  9.  Though  he  will  graciously  tender  and  maintain  the 
least  spark  of  true  grace,  yet  where  he  findeth  not  the  spark  of  grace,  but 
opposition  to  his  Spirit  stri\dng  with  them,  his  wrath  once  kindled  shall 
burn  to  hell.  There  is  no  juster  provocation  than  when  kindness  is 
churlishly  refused. 

When  God  would  have  cured  Babylon,  and  she  would  not  be  cured,  then 
she  was  given  up  to  destruction,  Jer.  li.  9. 

Wlien  Jerusalem  would  not  be  gathered  under  the  wing  of  Christ,  then 
their  habitation  is  left  desolate.  Matt,  xxiii.  37,  38. 

AVlien  wisdom  stretcheth  out  her  hand  and  men  refuse,  then  wisdom  will 
laugh  at  men's  destruction,  Prov.  i.  26.  Salvation  itself  will  not  save  those 
that  spill  the  potion,  and  cast  away  the  plaster.  A  pitiful  case,  when  this 
merciful  Saviour  shall  delight  in  destruction  :  when  he  that  made  men  shall 
have  no  mercy  on  them,  Isa.  xxvii.  11. 

0,  say  the  rebels  of  the  time,  God  hath  not  made  us  to  damn  us.  Yes, 
if  you  will  not  meet  Christ  in  the  ways  of  his  mercy,  it  is  fit  you  should 
'  eat  the  fruit  of  youi-  own  ways,  and  be  filled  with  your  own  devices,'  Prov. 
i.  31. 


74  THE  BRUISED  REED 

This  will  be  the  hell  of  hell,  when  men  shall  think,  that  they  have  loved 
their  sins  more  than  their  souls ;  when  they  shall  think,  what  love  and 
mercy  hath  been  almost  enforced  upon  them,  and  yet  they  would  perish. 
The  more  accessary  we  are  in  pulling  a  judgment  upon  ouBselves,  the  more 
the  conscience  will  be  confounded  in  itself,  when  they  shall  acknowledge 
Chi-ist  to  be  without  all  blame,  themselves  without  excuse. 

If  men  appeal  to  their  own  consciences,  they  will  tell  them,  the  Holy 
Spirit  hath  often  knocked  at  their  hearts,  as  willing  to  have  kindled  some 
holy  desires  in  them.  How  else  can  they  be  said  to  resist  the  Holy  Ghost, 
but  that  the  Spirit  was  readier  to  draw  them  to  a  further  degree  of  goodness 
than  stood  with  their  own  wills  ?  whereupon  those  in  the  church  that  are 
damned  are  self-condemned  before.  So  that  here  we  need  not  rise  to  higher 
causes,  when  men  carry  sufficient  cause*  in  their  own  bosoms. 

4.  And  the  best  of  us  all  may  ofi'end  against  this  merciful  disposition,  if 
we  be  not  watchful  against  that  liberty  our  carnal  disposition  will  be  ready 
to  take  from  it.  Thus  we  reason,  if  Christ  will  not  quench  the  smoking 
flax,  what  need  we  fear  that  any  neglect  on  our  part  can  bring  us  under  a 
comfortless  condition  ?     If  Christ  will  not  do  it,  what  can  ? 

Am.  You  know  the  apostle's  prohibition  notwithstanding,  1  Thess.  v.  19, 

*  Quench  not  the  Spirit.'  These  cautions  of  not  quenching  are  sanctified  by  the 
Spirit  as  means  of  not  quenching,  Christ  performeth  his  office  in  not 
quenching,  by  sthring  up  suitable  endeavours  in  us  ;  and  none  more  soli- 
citous in  the  use  of  the  means  than  those  that  are  most  certain  of  the  good 
success.  The  ground  is  this  :  the  means  that  God  hath  set  apart  for  the 
effecting  of  any  thing,  fall  under  the  same  purpose  that  he  hath  to  bring 
that  thing  to  pass  ;  and  this  is  a  principle  taken  for  granted,  even  in  civil 
matters  ;  as  who,  if  he  knew  before  it  would  be  a  fruitful  year,  would  there- 
fore hang  up  his  plough  and  neglect  tillage  ? 

Hence  the  apostle  stirs  up  from  the  certain  expectation  of  a  blessing, 
1  Cor.  XV.  57,  58,  and  this  encouragement  here  from  the  good  issue  of  final 
victoiy  is  intended  to  stir  us  up,  and  not  to  take  us  oft".  If  we  be  negligent 
in  the  exercise  of  grace  received,  and  use  of  means  prescribed,  suffering  our 
spirits  to  be  oppressed  with  multitudes  and  variety  of  cares  of  this  life,  and 
take  not  heed  of  the  damps  of  the  times,  for  such  miscarriage  God  in  his 
wise  care  suffereth  us  oft  to  fall  into  a  worse  condition  for  feeling,  than 
those  that  were  never  so  much  enlightened.  Yet  in  mercy  he  will  not  suffer  us 
to  be  so  far  enemies  to  ourselves,  as  wholly  to  neglect  these  sparks  once 
kindled.  Were  it  possible  that  we  should  be  given  up  to  give  over  all 
endeavour  wholly,  then  we  could  look  for  no  other  issue  but  quenching ; 
but  Christ  will  tend  this  spark,  and  cherish  this  small  seed,  so  as  he  will 
preserve  in  the  soul  always  some  degree  of  care.  If  we  would  make  a  com- 
fortable use  of  this,  we  must  consider  all  those  means  whereby  Christ  doth 
preserve  grace  begun ;  as  first,  holy  communion,  whereby  one  Christian 
heateth  another  ;  '  two  are  better  than  one,'  &c.,  Eccles.  iv.  9.  '  Did  not  our 
hearts  burn  ?'  Luke  xxiv,  32,  said  the  disciples.  Secondly,  much  more 
communion  with  God  in  holy  duties,  as  meditation  and  prayer,  which  doth 
not  only  kindle,  but  addeth  a  lustre  to  the  soul.  Thirdly,  we  feel  by 
experience  the  breath  of  the  Spirit  to  go  along  with  the  ministerial  breath, 
whereupon  the  apostle  knits  these  two  together  :   '  Quench  not  the  Spirit ;' 

*  despise  not  prophecies,'  1  Thess.  v.  19,  20.  Nathan  by  a  few  words  blew 
up  the  decaying  sparks  in  David.  Rather  than  God  will  suffer  his  fire  in 
us  to  die,  he  will  send  some  Nathan  or  other,  and  something  always  is  left 

*   '  Of  their  own  damnation,'  in  A  and  B. 


AND  SMOKING  FLAX.  75 

in  US  to  join  with  the  word  as  connatural  to  it ;  as  a  coal  that  hath  fire  in 
it  will  quickly  catch  more  to  it :  smoking  flax  will  easily  take  fire.  Fourthly , 
grace  is  strengthened  by  the  exercise  of  it ;  '  Up  and  be  doing,  and  the  Lord 
be  with  thee,'  1  Chron.  xxii.  16,  said  David  to  his  son  Solomon :  stir  up 
the  grace  that  is  in  thee,  for  so  holy  motions  turn  to  resolutions,  resolu- 
tions to  practice,  and  practice  to  a  prepared  readiness  to  every  good  work. 

Caution.  Yet  let  us  know  that  grace  is  increased  in  the  exercise  of  it, 
not  by  virtue  of  the  exercise  itself,  but  as  Christ  by  his  Spirit  floweth  into 
the  soul,  and  bringeth  us  nearer  unto  himself  the  fountain,  and  instilleth 
such  comfort  in  the  act,  whereby  the  heart  is  farther  enlarged.  The  heart 
of  a  Christian  is  Christ's  garden,  and  his  graces  are  as  so  many  sweet  spices 
and  flowers,  which  his  Spirit  blowing  upon  makes*  them  to  send  forth  a 
sweet  savour :  therefore  keep  the  soul  open  for  entertainment  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  for  he  will  bring  in  continually  firesh  forces  to  subdue  corruption,  and 
this  most  of  all  on  the  Lord's  day.  John  was  in  the  Spirit  on  the  Lord's 
day,  even  in  Patmos,  the  place  of  his  banishment.  Rev.  i.  10 ;  then  the 
gales  of  the  Spirit  blow  more  strongly  and  sweetly.  As  we  look,  therefore, 
for  the  comfort  of  this  doctrine,  let  us  not  favour  our  natural  sloth,  '  but 
exercise  ourselves  to  godliness,'  1  Tim.  iv.  7,  and  labour  to  keep  this  fire 
always  burning  upon  the  altar  of  our  hearts,  and  dress  our  lamps  daily,  and  put 
in  fresh  oil,  and  wind  up  our  souls  higher  and  higher  still :  resting  in  a  good 
condition  is  contrary  to  grace,  which  cannot  but  promote  itself  to  a  further 
measure  ;  let  none  turn  this  '  grace  into  wantonness,'  Jude  4.  Lifirmities  are 
a  ground  of  humility,  not  a  plea  for  negUgence,  not  an  encoui-agement  to 
presumption.  We  should  be  so  far  from  being  iU,  because  Christ  is  good, 
as  that  those  coals  of  love  should  melt  us  ;  therefore  those  may  well  suspect 
themselves  in  whom  the  consideration  of  this  mildness  of  Christ  doth  not 
work  that  way  :  sui-ely  where  grace  is,  corruption  is  as  '  smoke  to  their 
eyes,  and  vinegar  to  their  teeth,'  Prov.  x.  29.  And  therefore  they  will  labour 
in  regard  of  their  own  comfort,  as  likewise  for  the  credit  of  religion  and  the 
glory  of  God,  that  their  light  may  break  forth.  If  a  spark  of  faith  and 
love  be  so  precious,  what  an  honour  will  it  be  to  be  rich  in  faith  !  Who 
would  not  rather  walk  in  the  Ught,  and  in  the  comforts  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
than  to  live  in  a  dark,  perplexed  estate  ?  and  not  rather  to  be  carried  with 
full  sail  to  heaven,  than  to  be  tossed  always  with  fears  and  doubts  ?  The 
present  trouble  in  conflict  against  a  sin  is  not  so  much  as  that  disquiet 
which  any  corruption  favoured  will  bring  upon  us  afterward ;  true  peace  is 
in  conquering,  not  in  yielding.  The  comfort  in  this  text  intended  is  for 
those  that  would  fain  do  better,  but  find  their  corruptions  clog  them ;  that 
are  in  such  a  mist,  that  ofttimes  they  cannot  tell  what  to  think  of  themselves  ; 
that  fain  would  believe,  and  yet  oft  fear  they  do  not  beUeve,  and  think  that 
it  cannot  be  that  God  should  be  so  good  to  such  sinful  wretches  as  they  are  ; 
and  yet  they  allow  not  themselves  in  these  fears  and  doubts. 

5.  And  among  others,  how  do  they  wrong  themselves  and  him,  that  will 
have  other  mediators  to  God  for  them  than  he  ?  Are'ail)'  muiy  piliful  Lha,U 
he,  who  became  man  to  that  end,  that  he  might  be  pitifal  to  his  own  flesh  ? 
Let  all  at  all  times  repair  to  this  meek  Saviour,  and  put  up  all  our  suits  in 
his  prevailing  name.  What  need  we  knock  at  any  other  door  ?  can  any  be 
more  tender  over  us  than  Christ  ?  What  encouragement  have  we  to  com- 
mend the  state  of  the  church  in  general,  or  of  any  broken-hearted  Chris- 
tian, unto  him  by  our  prayers  ?  Of  whom  we  may  speak  unto  Christ,  as 
they  of  Lazarus,  Lord,  the  church  which  thou  lovest,  and  gavest  thyself 
*  'Maketh,'  in  A  and  B. 


76  THE  BRUISED  REED 

for,  is  in  distress  :  Lord,  this  poor  Christian,  for  whom  thou  wert  bruised, 
Isa.  Uii.  5,  is  bruised  and  brought  very  low.  It  cannot  but  touch  his 
bowels  when  the  misery  of  his  own  dear  bowels  is  spread  before  him. 

6.  A^ain,  considering  this  gracious  nature  in  Christ,  let  us  think  with 
ourselves  thus :  when  he  is  so  kind  unto  us,  shall  we  be  cruel  against  him 
in  his  name,  in  his  truth,  in  his  children  ?  how  shall  those  that  delight  to 
be  so  terrible  '  to  the  meek  of  the  earth,'  Zech.  ii.  3,  hope  to  look  so  gracious 
a  Saviour  in  the  face  ?  they  that  are  so  boisterous  towards  his  spouse,  shall 
know  one  day  they  had  to  deal  with  himself  in  his  church.  So  it  cannot 
but  cut  the  heart  of  those  that  have  felt  this  love  of  Christ,  to  hear  him 
wounded  who  is  the  life  of  their  lives,  and  the  soul  of  their  souls  :  this 
maketh  those  that  have  felt  mercy  weep  over  Christ,  whom  they  have  pierced 
with  their  sins.  There  cannot  but  be  a  mutual  and  quick  sympathy  between 
the  head  and  the  members.  When  we  are  tempted  to  any  sin,  if  we  will 
not  pity  ourselves,  yet  we  should  spare  Christ,  in  not  putting  him  to  new 
torments.  The  apostle  could  not  find  out  a  more  heart-breaking  argument 
to  enforce  a  sacrificing  ourselves  to  God,  than  to  conjure  us  by  the  mercies 
of  God  in  Christ,  Rom.  xii.  1. 

7.  This  mercy  of  Christ  likewise  should  move  us  to  commiserate  the 
state  *  of  the  poor  church,  torn  by  enemies  without,  and  rending  itself  by 
divisions  at  home.  It  cannot  but  work  upon  any  soul  that  ever  felt  com- 
fort from  Christ,  to  consider  what  an  affectionate  entreaty  the  apostle  useth 
to  mutual  agreement  in  judgment  and  afiection.  '  If  any  consolation  in 
Christ,  if  any  comfort  of  love,  if  any  fellowship  of  the  Spirit,  if  any  bowels 
and  mercies,  fulfil  my  joy,  be  like-minded,'  Phil.  ii.  1  ;  as  if  he  should 
say.  Unless  you  will  disclaim  aU  consolation  in  Christ,  &c.,  labour  to 
maintain  the  unity  of  the  Spirit  in  the  bond  of  peace.  What  a  joyful  spec- 
tacle is  this  to  Satan  and  his  faction,  to  see  those  that  are  separated  from  the 
world  fall  in  pieces  among  themselves  !     Our  discord  is  our  enemy's  melody. 

The  more  to  blame  those  that  for  private  aims  afiect  difierences  from 
others,  and  wdll  not  suffer  the  wounds  of  the  church  to  close  and  meet 
together.  Which  must  not  be  understood,  as  if  men  should  dissemble 
their  judgment  in  any  truth  where  there  is  just  cause  of  expressing  them- 
selves ;  for  the  least  truth  is  Christ's  and  not  ours,  and  therefore  we  are 
not  to  take  Hberty  to  affirm  or  deny  at  our  pleasures.  There  is  a  due  in  a 
penny  as  well  as  in  a  pound,  therefore  we  must  be  faithful  in  the  least 
truth,  when  season  calleth  for  it.  Then  our  '  words  are  like  apples  of  gold 
with  pictures  of  silver,'  Prov.  xxv.  11.  One  word  spoken  in  season,  will  do 
more  good  than  a  thousand  out  of  season.  But  in  some  cases  peace,  by 
*  keeping  our  faith  to  ourselves,'  Rom.  xiv.  22,  is  of  more  consequence  than 
the  open  discovery  of  some  things  we  take  to  be  true  ;  considering  the 
weakness  of  man's  nature  is  such  that  there  can  hardly  be  a  discovery  of 
any  difference  in  opinion,  without  some  estrangement  of  affection.  So  far 
as  men  are  not  of  one  mind,  they  will  hardly  be  of  one  heart,  except  where 
grace  and  the  peace  of  God,  Col.  iii.  15,  bear  great  rule  in  the  heart : 
therefore  open  show  of  difference  is  never  good  but  when  it  is  necessary ; 
howsoever  some,  fi:om  a  desire  to  be  somebody,  turn  into  by-ways,  and 
yield  to  a  spirit  of  contradiction  in  themselves  ;  yet,  if  St  Paul  may  be 
judge,  '  are  they  not  carnal  ? '  1  Cor.  iii.  3  ;  if  it  be  wisdom,  it  is  wisdom 
from  beneath  :  for  the  wisdom  from  above,  as  it  is  pure,  so  it  is  i^eaceable, 
James  iii.  17.  Our  blessed  Saviour,  when  he  was  to  leave  the  world,  what 
doth  he  press  upon  his  disciples  more  than  peace  and  love  ?  And  in  his 
*  '  Estate,'  in  A  and  B. 


AND  SMOKING  FLAX,  77 

last  prayer,  with  wliat  earnestness  did  he  beg  of  his  Father  that '  they  might 
be  one,  as  he  and  the  Father  were  one  ! '  John  xvii.  21.  But  what  he 
prayed  for  on  earth,  we  shall  only  enjoy  perfectly  in  heaven.  Let  this 
make  the  meditation  of  that  time  the  more  sweet  unto  us. 

8.  And  farther,  to  lay  open  offenders  in  this  kind,  what  spirit  shall  we 
think  them  to  be  of,  that  take  advantages  of  the  bruisedness  and  infirmi- 
ties of  men's  spirits  to  relieve  them  with  false  peace  for  their  own  worldly 
ends  ?  A  wounded  spirit  will  part  with  anything.  Most  of  the  gainful 
points  of  popery,  as  confession,  satisfaction,  merit,  purgatory,  &c.,  spring 
from  hence,  but  they  are  physicians  of  no  value,  or  rather  tormentors  than 
physicians  at  all.  It  is  a  greater  blessing  to  be  delivered  from  the  '  sting  of 
these  scorpions,'  Rev.  ix.  5,  than  we  are  thankful  for.  Spiritual  tyranny  is 
the  greatest  tyranny,  and  then  especially  when  it  is  where  most  mercy 
should  be  shewed  ;  yet  even  there  some,  hke  cruel  surgeons,  dehght  in 
making  long  cures,  to  serve  themselves  upon  the  misery  of  others.  It 
bringeth  men  under  a  terrible  curse,  'when  they  wiU  not  remember  to  shew 
mercy,  but  persecute  the  poor  and  needy  man,  that  they  might  even  slay 
the  broken  in  heart,'  Ps.  cix.  16. 

Likewise,  to  such  as  raise  temporal  advantage  to  themselves  out  of  the 
spiritual  misery  of  others,  join  such  as  raise  estates  by  betraying  the 
church,  and  are  unfaithful  in  the  trust  committed  unto  them :  when  the 
children  shall  cry  for  the  bread  of  life,  and  there  is  none  to  give  them, 
bringing  thus  upon  the  people  of  God  that  heavy  judgment  of  a  spiritual 
famine,  starving  Christ  in  his  members  ;  shall  we  so  requite  so  good  a 
Saviour,  who  counteth  the  love  and  mercy  shewed  '  in  feeding  his  lambs,' 
John  xxi.  15,  as  shewed  to  himself? 

Last  of  all,  they  carry  themselves  very  unkindly  towards  (Jnrist,  who 
stumble  at  this  his  low  stooping  unto  us  in  his  government  and  ordinances, 
that  are  ashamed  of  the  simplicity  of  the  gospel,  that  count  preaching 
foolishness. 

They,  out  of  the  pride  of  then-  heart,  think  they  may  do  well  enough 
without  the  help  of  the  word  and  sacraments,  and  think  Christ  took  not 
state  enough  upon  him ;  and  therefore  they  will  mend  the  matter  with  their 
own  devices,  whereby  they  may  give  the  better  content  to  flesh  and  blood, 
as  in  popery.  What  greater  unthankfulness  can  there  be  than  to  despise 
any  help  that  Christ  in  mercy  hath  provided  for  us  ?  In  the  days  of  his 
flesh,  the  proud  Pharisees  took  offence  at  his  familiar  conversing  with 
sinful  men,  who  only  did  so  as  a  physician  to  heal  their  souls.  What 
defences  was  St  Paul  driven  to  make  for  himself,  for  his  plainness  in  unfold- 
ing the  gospel  ?  The  more  Christ,  in  himself  and  in  his  servants,  shall 
descend  to  exalt  us,  the  more  we  should,  with  all  humility  and  readiness, 
entertain  that  love,  and  magnify  the  goodness  of  God,  that  hath  put  the 
great  work  of  our  salvation,  and  laid  the  government  upon  so  gentle  a 
Saviour,  that  wiU  carry  himself  so  mildly  in  all  things  wherein  he  is  to  de"*." 
betwixt  God  and  us,  and  us  and  God.  The  lower  Christ  comes  down  to 
us,  the  higher  let  us  lift  him  up  in  our  hearts  :  so  will  all  those  do  that 
have  ever  found  the  experience  of  Christ's  work  in  their  heart. 


[Chapter  XVIII. — Of  ChrisCs  judgment  in  us,  and  his  victory,  what  it  is.] 

We  come  to  the  third  part,  the  constant  progress  of  Christ's  gracious 
power,  until  he  hath  set  up  such  an  absolute  government  in  us,  which  shall 


78  THE  BRUISED  REED 

prevail  over  all  corruptions.  It  is  said  here,  he  will  cherish  his  beginnings 
of  grace  in  us,  until  he  bring  forth  judgment  unto  victory.  By  judgment 
here,  is  meant  the  kingdom  of  grace  in  us,  that  government  whereby  Christ 
sets  up  a  throne  in  our  hearts.  Governors  among  the  Jews  were  first 
called  judges,  then  kings  :  whence  this  inward  rule  is  called  judgment ;  as 
hkewise,  because  it  agrees  unto  the  judgment  of  the  word,  which  the  psalm- 
ist oft  calleth  judgment,  Ps.  Ixxii.  1,  2,  because  it  agreeth  to  God's 
judgment.  Men  may  read  their  doom  in  God's  word,  what  it  judgeth  of 
them  God  judgeth  of  them.  By  this  judgment  set  up  in  us,  good  is 
discerned,  allowed,  and  performed  ;  sin  is  judged,  condemned,  and  executed. 
Our  spirit  being  under  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  is  governed  by  him,  and  so  far 
as  it  is  governed  by  Christ,  it  governs  us  graciously. 

Christ  and  we  are  of  one  judgment,  and  of  one  will.  He  hath  his  will  in 
us  ;  and  his  judgments  are  so  invested  into  us,  as  that  they  are  turned  into 
our  judgment,  we  carrying  '  his  law  in  our  hearts,  written  by  his  Spirit,'  Jer. 
xxxi.  33.  The  law  in  the  inner  man  and  the  law  written,  answer  as  counter- 
panes each  other. 

The  meaning  then  is,  that  the  gracious  frame  of  holiness  set  up  in  our 
hearts  by  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  shall  go  forward  until  all  contrary  power  be 
brought  under.  The  spirit  of  judgment  wiU  be  a  spirit  of  burning,  Isa.  iv. 
4,  to  consume  whatsoever  opposed  corruption  like  rust  eats  into  the  soul. 
If  God's  builders  fall  into  errors,  and  build  stubble  upon  a  good  foundation, 
God's  Spirit,  as  a  spiritual  'fire,  will  reveal  this  in  time,  1  Cor.  iii.  13,'  and 
waste  it.  They  shall,  by  a  spirit  of  judgment,  condemn  their  own  errors 
and  courses.  The  whole  work  of  grace  in  us  is  set  out  under  the  name  of 
judgment,  and  sometimes  wisdom,  because  judgment  is  the  chief  and  lead- 
ing part  in  grace  ;  whereupon  that  gracious  work  of  repentance  is  called 
a  change  of  the  mind,*  and  an  after-wisdom.  As  on  the  other  side,  in 
the  learned  languages,  the  words  that  do  express  wisdom  imply  likewise  the 
general  relish  and  savour  of  the  whole  soul,f  and  rather  more  the  judgment 
of  taste  than  of  sight,  or  any  other  sense,  because  taste  is  the  most  neces- 
sary sense,  and  requireth  the  nearest  application  of  the  object  of  aU  other 
senses.  So  in  spiritual  hfe,  it  is  most  necessary  that  the  Spirit  should 
alter  the  taste  of  the  soul,  so  as  that  it  might  savour  the  things  of  the 
Spirit  so  deeply,  that  all  other  things  should  be  out  of  rehsh. 

And  as  it  is  tnie  of  every  particular  Christian,  that  Christ's  judgment  in 
him  shall  be  victorious,  so  likewise  of  the  whole  body  of  Christians — the 
church.  The  government  of  Christ,  and  his  truth,  whereby  he  ruleth  as 
by  a  sceptre,  shall  at  length  be  victorious  in  spite  of  Satan,  antichrist, 
and  all  enemies.  Christ  'riding  on  his  white  horse,'  Rev.  vi.  2,  hath  a  bow, 
and  goeth  forth  conquering.  Rev.  xix.  11,  in  the  ministry,  that  he  may  over- 
come either  to  conversion  or  to  confusion.  But  yet  I  take  judgment  for 
Christ's  kingdom  and  government  within  us  principally.  1.  Because  God 
especially  requireth  the  subjection  of  the  soul  and  conscience  as  his  proper 
throne.  2.  Because  if  judgment  should  prevail  in  all  other  |  about  us  and 
not  in  our  own  hearts,  it  would  not  yield  comfort  to  us  ;  hereupon  it  is  the 
first  thing  that  we  desire  when  we  pray,  '  Thy  kingdom  come,'  that  Christ 
would  come  and  rule  in  our  hearts.  The  kingdom  of  Christ  in  his  ordi- 
nances serves  but  to  bring  Christ  home  into  his  own  place,  our  hearts. 

The  words  being  thus  explained,  that  judgment  here  includeth  the  govern- 
ment of  both  mind,  will,  and  afiections,  there  are  divers  conclusions  that 
naturally  do  spring  from  them. 

(Lirdma.  f  (p^ovliv,  sapere.  J  •  Others,' in  A  and  B. 


AND  SMOKING  FLAX.  79 

[Chapteb  XIX. — Christ  is  so  mild  that  yet  he  will  govern  those  that  enjoy        ^ 
the  comfort  of  his  mildness.^  i 

The  first  conclusion  from  the  connection  of  this  part  ol  the  verse  with 
the  former  is,  that  Christ  is  upon  those  terms  mild,  so  that  he  will  set  up 
his  government  in  those  whom  he  is  so  gentle  and  tender  over.  He  so 
pardons  as  he  will  be  obeyed  as  a  king ;  he  so  taketh  us  to  be  his  spouse, 
as  he  will  be  obeyed  as  a  husband.  The  same  Spirit  that  convinceth  us  of  the 
necessity  of  his  righteousness  to  cover  us,  convinceth  us  also  of  the  neces- 
sity of  his  government  to  rule  us.  His  love  to  us  moveth  him  to  frame  us 
to  be  like  himself,  and  our  love  to  him  stirreth  us  up  to  be  such  as  he  may 
take  delight  in,  neither  have  we  any  more  faith  or  hope  than  care  to  be 
purged  as  he  is  pure ;  he  maketh  us  subordinate  governors,  yea,  kings  under 
himself,  giving  us  grace  not  only  to  set  against,  but  to  subdue  in  some 
measure  our  base  affections.  It  is  one  main  fruit  of  Christ's  exaltation  that 
he  may  turn  every  one  of  us  from  our  wickedness,  Acts  iii.  26.  '  For  this 
end  Christ  died  and  rose  again  and  liveth,  that  he  should  be  Lord  of 
the  dead  and  Uving,'  Rom.  xiv,  9.  God  hath  bound  himself  by  an  oath 
that  he  would  grant  us,  that  '  without  fear  we  might  serve  him  in  holiness 
and  righteousness  in  his  sight,'  Luke  i.  75,  not  only  in  the  sight  of  the 
world. 

1.  This  may  serve  for  a  trial  to  discern  who  may  lay  just  claim  to  Christ's 
mercy ;  only  those  that  will  take  his  yoke,  and  count  it  a  greater  happiness 
to  be  under  his  government,  than  to  enjoy  any  liberty  ol  tne  flesh ;  that 
will  take  whole  Christ,  and  not  single  out  of  him  what  may  stand  with  their 
present  contentment ;  that  will  not  divide  Lord  from  Jesus,  and  so  make  a 
Christ  of  their  own  :  none  ever  did  truly  desire  mercy  pardoning,  but  de- 
sired mercy  healing.  David  prayeth  for  a  new  spirit,  as  well  as  for  sense 
of  pardoning  mercy,  Ps.  h.  10. 

2.  This  sheweth  that  those  are  misled,  that  make  Christ  to  be  only 
righteousness  to  us,  and  not  sanctification,  except  by  imputation :  whereas 
it  is  a  great  part  of  our  happiness  to  be  under  such  a  Lord,  who  was  not 
only  bom  for  us,  and  given  unto  us,  but  '  hath  the  government  likewise 
upon  his  shoulders,'  Isa.  ix.  6,  7,  that  is  our  Sanctifier  as  well  as  our  Saviour, 
our  Saviour  as  well  by  the  effectual  power  of  his  Spirit  from  the  power  of 
sin,  as  by  the  merit  of  his  death  from  the  guilt  thereof;  so  that  this,  1,  Be 
remembered,  that  the  first  and  chief  ground  of  our  comfort  is,  that  Christ 
as  a  priest  offered  himself  as  a  sacrifice  to  his  Father  for  us.  The  guilty 
soul  flieth  first  to  Christ  crucified,  made  a  curse  for  us.  Thence  it  is  that 
Christ  hath  right  to  govern  us,  thence  it  is  that  he  giveth  us  his  Spirit  as 
our  guide  to  lead  us  home. 

2.  In  the  course  of  our  Ufe,  after  that  we  are  in  state  of  grace,  and  be 
overtaken  with  any  sin,  we  must  remember  to  have  recourse  first  un' 
Christ's  mercy  to  pardon  us,  and  then  to  the  promise  of  his  Spirit  to 
govern  us. 

3.  And  when  we  feel  ourselves  cold  in  affection  and  duty,  it  is  the  best 
way  to  warm  ourselves  at  this  fire  of  his  love  and  mercy  in  giving  himself 
for  us. 

4.  Again,  remember  this,  that  Christ,  as  he  ruleth  us,  so  it  is  by  a  spirit 
of  love  from  a  sense  of  his  love,  whereby  his  commandments  are  easy  to  us. 
He  leadeth  us  by  his  free  Spirit,  a  Spirit  of  hberty :  his  subjects  are  volun- 
tanes.     The  constraint  that  he  layeth  upon  his  subjects  is  that  of  love  :  he 


80  THE  BRUISED  REED 

draweth  us  with  the  cords  of  love  sweetly.  Yet  remember  withal,  that  he 
draweth  us  strongly  by  a  Spirit  of  power,  for  it  is  not  sufficient  that  we 
have  motives  and  encouragements  to  love  and  obey  Christ  fi-om  that  love  of 
his,  whereby  he  gave  himself  for  us  to  justify  us  ;  but  Christ's  Spirit  must 
likewise  subdue  our  hearts,  and  sanctify  them  to  love  him,  without  which 
all  motives  would  be  ineflectual.  Our  disposition  must  be  changed,  we 
must  be  new  creatures ;  they  seek  for  heaven  in  hell  that  seek  for  spiritual 
love  in  an  unchanged  heart.  When  a  child  obeys  his  father,  it  is  so  from 
reasons  persuading  him,  as  likewise  from  a  child-like  nature  which  giveth 
strength  to  these  reasons  :  it  is  natural  for  a  child  of  God  to  love  Christ  so 
far  as  he  is  renewed,  not  only  from  inducement  of  reason  so  to  do,  but  like- 
wise from  an  inward  principle  and  work  of  grace,  whence  those  reasons  have 
their  chief  forces  ;  first,  we  are  made  partakers  of  the  divine  nature,  and 
then  we  are  easily  induced  and  led  by  Christ's  Spirit  to  spiritual  duties. 


[Chapter  XX. — The  spiritual  yovei-nment  of  Christ  is  joined  with 
judgment  and  wisdom.] 

The  second  conclusion  is,  that  Christ's  government  in  his  church  and  in 
his  children  is  a  wise  and  well-ordered  government,  because  it  is  called 
judgment,  and  judgment  is  the  life  and  soul  of  wisdom.  Of  this  conclusion 
there  are  two  branches  :  1.  That  the  spiritual  government  of  Christ  in  us 
is  joined  with  judgment  and  wisdom.  2.  Wheresoever  true  spiritnal  wisdom 
'and  judgment  is,  there  likewise  the  Spirit  of  Christ  bringeth  in  his  gracion_s 
governmenT!  ±i'or  tiie  tirst,  a  well-guided  life  by  the  rules  of  Christ  standeth 
with"the  strongest  and  highest  reason  of  all ;  and  therefore  holy  men  are 
called  the  '  children  of  wisdom,'  Luke  vii.  31,  and  are  able  to  justify,  both 
by  reason  and  experience,  all  the  ways  of  wisdom.  Opposite  courses  are 
folly  and  madness.  Hereupon  St  Paul  saith,  that  a  '  spiritual  man  judgeth 
all  things,'  1  Cor.  ii.  15,  that  appertain  to  him,  and  is  judged  of  none  that 
are  of  an  inferior  rank,  because  they  want  spiritual  light  and  sight  to  judge  ; 
yet  this  sort  of  men  will  be  judging,  '  and  speaking  ill  of  what  they  know 
not,'  2  Pet.  ii.  12 ;  they  step  from  ignorance  to  prejudice  and  rash  censure, 
without  taking  right  judgment  in  their  way,  and  therefore  their  judgment 
comes  to  nothing.  But  the  judgment  of  a  spiritual  man,  so  far  forth  as  he 
is  spiritual,  shall  stand,  because  it  is  agreeable  to  the  nature  of  things :  as 
things  are  in  themselves,  so  they  are  in  his  judgment.  As  God  is  in  him- 
self infinite  in  goodness  and  majesty,  &c.,  so  he  is  to  him  ;  he  ascribes  to 
God  in  his  heart  his  divinity  and  all  his  excellencies.  As  Christ  is  in  him- 
self the  only  mediator,  and  all  in  all  in  the  church.  Col.  iii.  11,  so  he  is  to 
him,  by  making  Christ  so  in  his  heart.  '  As  all  things  are  dung  in  com- 
parison of  Christ,'  Phil.  iii.  8,  so  they  are  to  Paul,  a  sanctified  man.  As 
the  very  worst  thing  in  religion,  '  the  reproach  of  Christ  is  better  than  the 
pleasure  of  sin  for  a  season,'  Heb.  xi.  26 ;  so  it  is  to  Moses,  a  man  of  a  right 
esteem.  '  As  one  day  in  the  courts  of  God  is  better  than  a  thousand  else- 
where,'^ Ps.  Ixxxiv.  10,  so  it  is  to  David,  a  man  of  a  reformed  judgment. 
There  is  a  conformity  of  a  good  man's  judgment  to  things  as  they  are  in 
themselves,  and  according  to  the  difierence  or  agreement  put  by  God  in 
things,  so  doth  his  judgment  difier  or  agree. 

Truth  is  truth,  and  error,  error,  and  that  which  is  unlawful  is  unlawful, 
whether  men  think  so  or  no.  God  hath  put  an  eternal  difierence  betwixt 
light  and  darkness,  good  and  ill,  which  no  creature's  conceit  can  alter;  and 


AND  SMOKING  FLAX.  81 

therefore  no  man's  judgment  is  the  measure  of  things  farther  than  it  agrees 
to  truth  stamped  upon  things  themselves  by  God.  Hereupon,  because  a 
wise  man's  judgment  agrees  to  the  truth  of  things,  a  wise  man  may  hi  some 
sense  be  said  to  be  the  measure  of  things  ;  and  the  judgment  of  one  holy 
wise  man  to  be  preferred  before  a  thousand  others.  Such  men  usually  are 
immoveable  as  the  sun  in  its  course,  because  they  think,  and  speak,  and 
live  by  rule.  '  A  Joshua  and  his  house  will  serve  God,'  Josh.  xxiv.  15, 
whatsoever  others  do,  and  will  run  a  course  contrary  to  the  world,  because 
their  judgments  lead  them  a  contrary  way.  Hence  it  is  that  Satan  hath  a 
spite  at  the  eye  of  the  soul,  the  judgment,  to  put  out  that  by  ignorance  and 
false  reason,  for  he  cannot  rule  in  any  until  either  he  hath  taken  away  or 
perverted  judgment :  he  is  a  prince  of  darkness,  and  ruleth  in  darkness  of 
the  understanding,  Therefore  he  must  first  be  cast  out  of  the  understand- 
ing by  the  prevailing  of  truth,  and  planting  it  in  the  soul.  Those  therefore 
that  are  enemies  of  knowledge  help  Satan  and  antichrist,  whose  kingdom, 
hke  Satan's,  is  a  kingdom  of  darkness,  to  erect  their  throne.  Hence  it  ia 
promised  by  Christ,  that  '  the  Holy  Ghost  shall  convince  the  world  of  judg- 
ment,' John  xvi.  8 ;  that  is,  that  he  is  resolved  to  set  up  a  throne  of 
government,  because  the  great  lord  of  misrule,  '  Satan,  the  prince  of  the 
world,'  is  judged  by  the  gospel,  and  the  Spirit  accompanying  it,  his  im- 
postures are  discovered,  his  enterprises  laid  open ;  therefore  when  the  gospel 
was  spread,  the  oracles  ceased,  '  Satan  fell  from  heaven  like  lightning,* 
Luke  X.  18 ;  men  were  '  translated  out  of  his  kingdominto  Christ's,'  Col.  i.  13. 
Where  prevailing  is  by  lies,  there  discovery  is  victory  ;  '  they  shall  proceed 
no  further,  for  their  folly  shall  be  manifest  to  all,'  2  Tim.  iii.  9.  So  that 
manifestation  of  error  giveth  a  stop  to  it,  for  none  will  willingly  be  deceived. 
Let  truth  have  full  scope  without  check  or  restraint,  and  let  Satan  and  his 
instruments  do  their  worst,  they  shall  not  prevail ;  as  Jerome  saith  of  the 
Pelagians  in  his  time.*  The  discovery  of  your  opinions  is  the  vanquishing 
of  them,  your  blasphemies  appear  at  the  first  blush. 

Use.  Hence  we  learn  the  necessity,  that  the  understanding  be  principled 
with  supernatural  knowledge,  for  the  well  managing  of  a  Christian  con- 
versation. 

There  must  be  light  to  discover  a  further  end  than  nature,  for  which  we 
are  Christians,  and  a  rule  suitable  directing  to  that  end,  which  is  the  will 
of  God  in  Christ,  discovering  his  good  pleasure  toward  us,  and  our  duty  to- 
wards him ;  and  in  virtue  of  this  discovery  we  do  aU  that  we  do,  that  any  way 
may  farther  our  reckoning :  '  The  eye  must  first  be  single,  and  then  the  whole 
body  and  frame  of  our  conversation  will  be  light,'  Matt.  vi.  22 ;  otherwise  both 
we  and  our  course  of  hfe  are  nothingbut  darkness.  The  whole  conversation  of  a 
Christian  is  nothing  else  but  knowledge  digested  into  will,  afiection,  and 
practice.  IS  the  fiirst  concoction  in  the  stomach  be  not  good,  that  in  the 
hver  cannot  be  good ;  so  if  there  be  error  in  the  judgment,  it  mars  the 
whole  practice,  as  an  error  in  the  foundation  doth  the  building  :  God  will 
have  '  no  bhnd  sacrifices,  no  unreasonable  services,'  Mai.  i.  13,  but  will 
have  us  to  'love  him  with  all  our  mind,'  Eom.  xii.  1,  that  is,  wih  our 
understanding  part,  as  well  as  '  with  all  our  hearts,'  Luke  x.  27,  that  is, 
the  affecting  part  of  the  soul. 

This  order  of  Christ's  government  by  judgment  is  agreeable  unto  the 
soul,  and  God  delighteth  to  preserve  the  manner  of  working  peculiar  unto 
man,  that  is,  to  do  what  he  doth  out  of  judgment :  as  grace  supposeth 

*  Sententias  vestras  prodidisse,  superasse  est. — Hieron.  in  Epist.  ad  Ctesiphon : 
rima  fronte  apparent  blasphemiae. 

VOL.  T.  P 


82  THE  BRUISED  REED 

nature  as  founded  upon  it,  so  the  frame  of  grace  preserveth  tlie  frame  of 
nature  in  man.  And,  therefore  Christ  bringeth  all  that  is  good  in  the 
soul  throuc^h  judgment,  and  that  so  sweetly,  that  many  out  of  a  dangerous 
error  think,  that  that  good  which  is  in  them  and  issueth  from  them  is  from 
themselves,  and  not  from  the  powerful  work  of  grace.  As  in  evil,  the  devil 
so  subtilly  leadeth  us  according  to  the  stream  of  our  own  nature,  that  men 
think  that  Satan  had  no  hand  in  their  sin  ;  but  here  a  mistake  is  with  little 
peril,  because  we  are  ill  of  ourselves,  and  the  devil  doth  but  promote  what 
in  he  findeth  in  us.  But  there  are  no  seeds  of  supernatural  goodness  at  all 
in  us.  God  findeth  nothing  in  us  but  enmity  ;  only  he  hath  engraven  this 
in  our  nature  to  incline  in  general  to  that  which  we  judge  to  be  good. 
Now  when  he  shall  clearly  discover  what  is  good  in  particular,  we  are 
carried  to  it ;  and  when  convincingly  he  shall  discover  that  which  is  ill,  we 
abhor  it  as  freely  as  we  embraced  it  before. 

From  whence  we  may  know,  when  we  work  as  we  should  do  or  no,  that 
is,  when  we  do  what  we  do  out  of  inward  principles,  when  we  fall  not  upon 
that  which  is  good,  only  because  we  are  so  bred,  or  because  such  or  such 
whom  we  respect  do  so,  or  because  we  wdll  maintain  a  side,  so  making 
religion  a  faction;  but  out  of  judgment,  when  what  we  do  that  is  good,  we 
first  judge  it  in  ourselves  so  to  be  ;  and  what  we  abstain  from  that  is  ill,  we 
fii'st  judge  it  to  be  ill  from  an  inward  judgment.  A  soimd  Christian,  as  he 
enjoyeth  the  better  part,  so  hath  first  made  choice  of  it  with  Mary,  Luke 
X.  42 ;  he  established  all  his  thoughts  by  counsel,  Prov.  xx.  18.  God 
indeed  useth  carnal  men  to  very  good  service,  but  without  a  thorough 
altering  and  conviction  of  their  judgment.*  He  worketh  by  them,  but  not 
in  them,  therefore  they  do  neither  approve  the  good  they  do,  nor  hate  the 
evil  thev  abstain  from. 


[Chapter  XXI. — Where  true  wisdom  and  judgment  is,  there  Christ  sets  up 

his  government.'] 

The  second  branch  is,  that  wheresoever  true  wisdom  and  judgment  is, 
there  Christ  hath  set  up  his  government ;  because  where  wisdom  is,  it  directs 
us  not  only  to  understand,  but  to  order  our  ways  aright.  Where  Christ  by 
his  Spirit  as  a  prophet  teaches,  he  likewise  as  a  king  by  his  Spirit  subdueth 
the  heart  to  obedience  of  what  is  taught.  This  is  that  teaching  which  is 
promised  of  God,  when  not  only  the  brain,  but  the  heart  itself,  is  taught : 
when  men  do  not  only  know  what  they  should  do,  but  are  taught  the  very- 
doing  of  it ;  they  are  not  only  taught  that  they  should  love,  fear,  and  obey, 
but  they  are  taught  love  itself,  and  fear  and  obedience  itself.  Christ  sets 
up  his  chair  in  the  very  heart,  and  alters  the  frame  of  that,  and  makes  his 
subjects  good,  together  with  teaching  of  them  to  be  good.  Other  princes 
can  make  good  laws,  but  they  '  cannot  write  them  in  their  people's  hearts,' 
Jer.  xxxii.  40.  This  is  Christ's  prerogative,  he  infuseth  into  his  subjects  his 
own  Spirit,  '  Upon  him  there  doth  not  only  rest  the  spirit  of  wisdom  and 
understanding,  but  likewise  the  spirit  of  the  fear  of  the  Lord,'  Isa.  xi.  2. 
The  knowledge  which  we  have  of  him  from  himself,  is  a  transforming  know- 
ledge, 2  Cor.  iii,  18.  The  same  Spirit  that  enlighteneth  the  mind,  inspireth 
gracious  inclinations  into  the  will  and  affections,  and  infuseth  strength 
into  the  whole  man.  As  a  gracious  man  judgeth  as  he  should,  so  he 
affecteth  and  doth  as  he  judgeth,  his  life  is  a  commentary  of  his  inward 
*  '  Judgments.'  in  A  and  B. 


AND  SMOKING  FLAX.  83 

man  ;  there  is  a  sweet  harmony  betwixt  God's  truth,  his  judgment,  and  his 
whole  conversation.  The  heart  of  a  Christian  is  like  Jerusalem  when  it 
was  at  the  best,  a  city  compact  within  itself,  Psa.  cxii.  3  ;  where  are  setup 
the  thrones  of  judgment,  Ps.  cxxii.  5.  Judgment  should  have  a  throne  in 
the  heart  of  every  Christian.  Not  that  judgment  alone  will  work  a  change, 
there  must  be  gi'ace  to  alter  the  bent  and  sway  of  the  will,  before  it  will 
yield  to  be  wrought  upon  by  the  understanding.  But  God  hath  so  joined 
these  together,  as  that  whensoever  he  doth  savingly  shine  upon  the  under- 
standing, he  giveth  a  soft  and  pliable  heart ;  for  without  a  work  upon  the 
heart  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  it  will  follow  its  own  inclination  to  that  which  it 
aSecteth,  whatsoever  the  judgment  shall  say  to  the  contraiy  :  there  is  no 
connatural  proportion  betwixt  an  unsanctified  heart  and  a  sanctified  judg- 
ment. For  the  heart  unaltered  will  not  give  leave  to  the  judgment  coldly 
and  soberly  to  conclude  what  is  best :  as  the  sick  man  whilst  his  aguish 
distemper  corrupteth  his  taste,  is  rather  desirous  to  please  that,  than  to 
hearken  what  the  physician  shall  speak.  Judgment  hath  not  power  over 
itself  where  the  wiU  is  unsubdued,  for  the  will  and  affections  bribe  it  to  give 
sentence  for  them,  when  any  profit  or  pleasure  shall  come  in  competition 
with  that  which  the  judgment  in  general  only  shall  think  to  be  good  ;  and, 
therefore,  it  is  for  the  most  part  in  the  power  of  the  heart,  what  the  under- 
standing shall  judge  and  determine  in  particular  things.  Where  gi^acehath 
brought  the  heart  under,  there  unruly  passions  do  not  cast  such  a  mist 
before  the  understanding,  but  that  in  particular  it  seeth  that  which  is  best ; 
and  base  respects,  springing  from  self-love,  do  not  alter  the  case,  and  bias 
the  judgment  into  a  contrary  way  ;  but  that  which  is  good  in  itself  shall  be 
good  unto  us,  although  it  cross  our  particular  worldly  interests. 

Use.  The  right  conceiving  of  this  hath  an  influence  into  practice, 
which  hath  drawn  me  to  a  more  full  explanation :  this  will  teach  us  the 
right  method  of  godliness,  to  begin  with  judgment,  and  then  to  beg  of  God, 
together  with  illumination,  holy  incHnations  of  our  will  and  aflfections,  that 
so  a  perfect  government  may  be  set  up  in  our  hearts,  and  that  om*  '  know- 
ledge may  be  with  all  judgment,'  Phil.  i.  9,  that  is,  with  experience  and 
feeling.  When  the  judgment  of  Christ  is  set  up  in  our  judgments,  and 
thence,  by  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  brought  into  our  hearts,  then  it  is  in  its  pro- 
per place  and  throne ;  and  until  then,  truth  doth  us  no  good,  but  helpeth 
to  condemn  us.  The  life  of  a  Christian  is  a  regular  life,  and  he  that  walketh 
by  the  rule.  Gal.  vi.  16,  of  the  new  creature,  peace  shall  be  upon  him  : 
'  he  that  despiseth  his  way  and  loveth  to  live  at  large,  seeking  all  liberty  to 
the  flesh,  shall  die,'  Prov.  xix.  16.  And  it  is  made  good  by  St  Paul,  '  If 
we  live  after  the  flesh,  we  shall  die,'  Rom.  viii.  13. 

We  learn  likewise,  that  men  of  an  ill  governed  life  have  no  true  judg- 
ment :  no  wicked  man  can  be  a  wise  man.  And  that  without  Christ's 
Spirit  the  soul  is  in  confusion,  without  beauty  and  form,  as  all  things  were 
in  the  chaos  before  the  creation.  The  whole  soul  is  out  of  joint  till  it  be 
set  in  again  by  him  whose  office  is  to  '  restore  all  things.'  The  baser  part  of 
the  soul  which  should  be  subject,  raleth  all,  and  keepeth  under  that  little 
truth  that  is  in  the  understanding,  holding  it  captive  to  base  affections  ;  and 
Satan  by  corruption  getteth  all  the  holds  of  the  soul,  till  Christ,  stronger 
than  he,  cometh,  and  driveth  him  out,  and  taketh  possession  of  all  the 
powers  and  parts  of  soul  and  body,  to  be  weapons  of  righteousness,  to  serve 
him,  and  then  new  lords  new  laws.  Christ  as  a  new  conqueror  changeth  the 
fundamental  laws  of  old  Adam,  and  estabhsheth  a  government  of  his  own. 


94  THE  BRUISED  REED 

[Chapter  XXII. — Christ's  government  is  victorious.] 

The  third  conclusion  is,  that  this  government  is  victorious.     The  reasons 

are : — 

1.  Because  Christ  hath  conquered  all  in  his  own  person  first,  and  he  is 
God  over  all,  blessed  for  evermore  ;  and  therefore  over  '  sin,  death,  hell, 
Satan,  the  world,'  &c.,  Rom.  ix.  5.  And  as  he  hath  overcome  them  in 
himself,  so  he  overcomes  them  in  our  hearts  and  consciences.  We  use  to 
say,  conscience  maketh  a  man  a  king  or  a  caitiff,  because  it  is  planted  in  us 
to  judge  for  God,  either  with  us  or  against  us.  Now  if  natural  conscience 
be  so  forcible,  what  will  it  be  when  besides  its  own  light  it  hath  the  light  of 
divine  truth  put  into  it  ?  It  will  undoubtedly  prevail,  either  to  make  us 
hold  up  our  heads  with  boldness,  or  abase  us  beneath  ourselves.  If  it 
subject  itself  by  grace  to  Christ's  truth,  then  it  boldly  overlooks  death, 
hell,  judgment,  and  all  spu'itual  enemies,  because  then  Christ  sets  up  his 
kingdom  in  the  conscience,  and  makes  it  a  kind  of  paradise. 

The  sharpest  conflict  which  the  soul  hath  is  between  the  conscience  and 
God's  justice :  now  if  the  conscience,  sprinkled  with  the  blood  of  Christ, 
hath  prevailed  over  assaults  fetched  from  the  justice  of  God  as  now  satisfied 
by  Christ,  it  will  prevail  over  all  other  opposition  whatsoever, 

2.  We  are  to  encounter  with  accursed  and  damned  enemies  ;  therefore, 
if  they  begin  to  fall  before  the  Spirit  in  us,  they  shall  fall :  if  they  rise  up 
again,  it  is  to  have  the  greater  fall. 

3.  The  Spirit  of  truth,  to  whose  tuition  Christ  hath  committed  his 
church,  and  the  truth  of  the  Spirit,  which  is  the  sceptre  of  Christ,  abide  for 
ever  ;  therefore  the  soul  begotten  by  the  immortal  seed  of  the  Spirit,  1  Pet. 
i.  23,  and  this  truth,  must  not  only  live  for  ever,  but  likewise  prevail  over 
all  that  oppose  it,  for  both  the  word  and  Spirit  are  mighty  in  operation, 
Heb.  iv.  12  ;  and  if  the  ill  spirit  be  never  idle  in  those  whom  God  delivereth 
up  to  him,  we  cannot  think  that  the  Holy  Spirit  will  be  idle  in  those  whose 
leading  and  government  is  committed  to  him.  No  ;  as  he  dwelleth  in  them, 
so  he  will  drive  out  all  that  rise  up  against  him,  until  he  be  all  in  all. 

What  is  spiritual  is  eternal.  Truth  is  a  beam  of  Christ's  Spirit,  both  in 
itself  and  as  it  is  ingrafted  into  the  soul,  therefore  it,  and  the  grace,  though 
little,  wrought  by  it,  will  prevail.  A  little  thing  in  the  hand  of  a  giant  will 
do  great  matters.     A  little  faith  strengthened  by  Christ  will  work  wonders. 

4.  *  To  him  that  hath  shall  be  given,'  Matt.  xxv.  29  ;  the  victory  over  any 
corruption  or  temptation  is  a  pledge  of  final  victory.  As  Joshua  said  when 
he  set  his  foot  upon  the  five  kings  which  he  conquered,  '  Thus  God  shall  do 
with  all  our  enemies,'  Josh.  x.  25  ;  heaven  is  ours  already,  only  we  strive 
till  we  have  full  possession. 

5.  Christ  as  king  brings  in  a  commanding  light  into  the  soul,  and  bows 
the  neck,  and  softens  the  iron  sinew  of  the  inner  man ;  and  where  he  begins 
to  rule,  he  rules  for  ever,  '  his  kingdom  hath  no  end,'  Luke  i.  33. 

6.  The  end  of  Christ's  coming  was  to  destroy  the  works  of  the  devil,  both 
for  us  and  in  us ;  and  the  end  of  the  resurrection  was,  as  to  seal  unto  us 
the  assurance  of  his  victory;  so,  1,  To  quicken  our  souls  from  death  in 
sin ;  2,  To  free  our  souls  from  such  snares  and  sorrows  of  spiritual  death 
as  accompany  the  guilt  of  sin ;  3,  To  raise  them  up  more  comfortable,  as 
the  sun  breaks  forth  more  gloriously  out  of  a  thick  cloud ;  4,  To  raise  us 
out  of  particular  slips  and  failings,  stronger;  5,  To  raise  us  out  of  all 
troublesome  and  dark  conditions  of  this  life  ;  and,  6,  At  length  to  raise  our 


AND  SMOKING  FLAX.  85 

bodies  out  of  the  dust.  For  the  same  power  that  the  Spirit  shewed  in 
raising  Christ,  our  head,  from  the  sorrows  of  death,  and  the  lowest  degree 
of  his  abasement ;  the  same  power  obtained  by  the  death  of  Christ  from 
God,  now  appeased  by  that  sacrifice,  will  the  Spirit  shew  in  the  church, 
which  is  his  body,  and  in  eveiy  particular  member  thereof. 

And  this  power  is  conveyed  by  faith,  whereby,  after  union  with  Christ  in 
both  his  estates  of  humiliation  and  exaltation,  we  see  ourselves  not  only 
'  dead  with  Christ,  but  risen  and  sitting  together  with  him  in  heavenly  places,' 
Eph.  ii.  6.  Now  we,  apprehending  ourselves  to  be  dead  and  risen,  and 
thereupon  victorious  over  all  our  enemies  in  our  head,  and  apprehending 
that  his  scope  in  all  this  is  to  conform  us  to  himself,  we  are  by  this  faith 
changed  into  his  likeness,  2  Cor.  iii.  18,  and  so  become  conquerors  over  all 
our  spiritual  enemies,  as  he  is,  by  that  power  which  we  derive  from  him 
who  is  the  storehouse  of  all  spiritual  strength  for  all  his.  Christ  at  length 
will  have  his  end  in  us,  and  faith  resteth  assured  of  it,  and  this  assurance 
ia  very  operative,  stirring  us  up  to  join  with  Christ  in  his  ends. 

And  so  for  the  chm'ch  in  general,  by  Christ  it  will  have  its  victory : 
Christ  is  '  that  Httle  stone  cut  out  of  the  mountain  without  hands,  that 
breaketh  in  pieces  that  goodly  image,'  Dan.  ii.  35,  that  is,  all  opposite 
government,  until  it  become  '  a  great  mountain,  and  filleth  the  whole  earth.' 
So  that  the  stone  that  was  cut  out  of  the  mountain,  becomes  a  mountain 
itself  at  length.  Who  art  thou,  then,  0  mountain,  that  thinkest  to  stand 
up  against  this  mountain  ?  All  shall  he  flat  and  level  before  it :  he  will 
bring  down  all  mountainous,  high,  exalted  thoughts,  and  lay  the  pride  of  aU 
flesh  low.  When  chafi"  strives  against  the  wind,  stubble  against  the  fire, 
when  the  heel  kicks  against  the  pricks,  when  the  potsherd  strives  with  the 
potter,  when  man  strives  against  God,  it  is  easy  to  know  on  which  side  the 
victory  will  go.  The  winds  may  toss  the  ship  wherein  Christ  is,  but  not 
overturn  it.  The  waves  may  dash  against  the  rock,  but  they  do  but  break 
themselves  against  it. 

Object.  If  this  be  so,  why  is  it  thus  with  the  church  of  God,  and  with 
many  a  gracious  Christian  ?  the  victory  seemeth  to  go  with  the  enemy. 

Ans.  For  answer,  remember,  1,  God's  children  usually  in  their  troubles 
overcome  by  suflering ;  here  lambs  overcome  hons,  and  doves  eagles,  by 
sufiering,  that  herein  they  may  be  conformable  to  Christ,  who  conquered 
most  when  he  suffered  most ;  together  with  Christ's  kingdom  of  patience 
there  was  a  kingdom  of  power. 

2.  This  victory  is  by  degi'ees,  and  therefore  they  are  too  hasty- spirited 
that  would  conquer  so  soon  as  they  strike  the  fii'st  stroke,  and  be  at  the  end 
of  their  race  at  the  first  setting  forth ;  the  Israelites  were  sure  of  their  \ac- 
tory  in  their  voyage  ffj  to  Canaan,  yet  they  must  fight  it  out.  God  would 
not  have  us  presently  forget  what  cruel  enemies  Christ  hath  overcome  for 
us ;  '  Destroy  them  not,  lest  the  people  forget  it,  saith  the  Psalmist,  Ps.  hx.  11. 
That  so  by  the  experience  of  that  annoyance  we  have  by  them,  we  might  be 
kept  in  fear  to  come  imder  the  power  of  them. 

3.  That  God  often  worketh  by  contraries :  when  he  means  to  give  vic- 
tory, he  will  sufier  us  to  be  foiled  at  fii-st ;  when  he  means  to  comfort,  he 
will  terrify  first ;  when  he  means  to  justify,  he  ^\^ll  condemn  us  first ;  whom 
he  means  to  make  glorious,  he  will  abase  fii-st.  A  Christian  conquers,  even 
when  he  is  conquered ;  when  he  is  conquered  by  some  sins,  he  gets  victory 
over  others  more  dangerous,  as  spiritual  pride,  security,  &c. 

4.  That  Christ's  work,  both  in  the  church  and  in  the  hearts  of  Christians, 
often  goeth  backward,  that  it  may  go  the  better  forward.     As  seed  rots  in 


86  THE  BKUISED  REED 

the  ground  in  the  winter  time,  but  after  comes  better  up,  and  the  harder 
the  winter  the  more  flourishing  the  spring,  so  we  learn  to  stand  by  falls, 
and  get  strength  by  weakness  discovered — virtutis  ciistos  injirmitas — we  take 
deeper  root  by  shaking ;  and,  as  torches  flame  brighter  by  moving,  thu? 
it  pleaseth  Christ,  out  of  his  freedom,  in  this  manner  to  maintain  his  govern- 
ment in  us.  Let  us  herein  labour  to  exercise  our  faith,  that  it  may  answer 
Christ's  manner  of  carriage  towards  us  ;  when  we  are  foiled,  let  us  believe 
we  shall  overcome ;  when  we  are  fallen,  let  us  believe  we  shall  rise  again. 
Jacob,  after  he  had  a  '  blow  upon  which  he  halted,  yet  would  not  give  over 
wrestling,'  Gen.  xxxii.  24,  till  he  had  gotten  the  blessing ;  so  let  us  never 
give  over,  but  in  our  thoughts  knit  the  beginning,  progress,  and  end  toge- 
ther, and  then  we  shall  see  ourselves  in  heaven  out  of  the  reach  of  all  ene- 
mies. Let  us  assure  ourselves  that  God's  grace,  even  in  this  imperfect 
estate,  is  stronger  than  man's  free  will  in  the  state  of  first  perfection,  being--i< 
founded  now  in  Christ,  who,  as  he  is  the  author,  so  will  be  '  the  finisher,  of 
our  faith,'  Heb.  xii.  2  ;  we  are  under  a  more  gracious  covenant. 

Thatf  which  some  say  of  faith  rooted,  y?{/^s  mdicaia,  that  it  continueth, 
but  weak  faith  may  come  to  nothing,  seemeth  to  be  crossed  by  this  Scrip- 
ture ;  for,  as  the  strongest  faith  may  be  shaken,  so  the  weakest  where  truth 
is,  is  so  far  rooted,  that  it  will  prevail.  Weakness  with  watchfulness  will  stand 
out,  when  strength  with  too  much  confidence  faileth.  Weakness,  with 
acknowledging  of  it,  is  the  fittest  seat  and  subject  for  God  to  perfect  his 
strength  in  ;  for  consciousness  of  our  infirmities  driveth  us  out  of  ourselves 
to  him  in  whom  our  strength  lieth. 

Hereupon  it  foUoweth  that  weakness  may  stand  with  the  assurance  of 
salvation ;  the  disciples,  notwithstanding  all  their  wealmesses,  are  bidden 
to  rejoice,  Luke  x.  20,  that  their  names  are  written  in  heaven.  Failings, 
with  conflict,  in  sanctification  should  not  weaken  the  peace  of  our  justifica- 
tion, and  assurance  of  salvation.  It  mattereth  not  so  much  what  ill  is  in 
us,  as  what  good  ;  not  what  corruptions,  but  how  we  stand  affected  to  them ; 
not  what  our  particular  failings  be,  so  much  as  what  is  the  thread  and  tenor 
of  our  lives  ;  for  Christ's  mislike  of  that  which  is  amiss  in  us,  redounds  not 
to  the  hatred  of  om*  persons,  J  but  to  the  victorious  subduing  of  all  our 
infirmities. 

Some  have,  after  conflict,  wondered  at  the  goodness  of  God,  that  so  little 
and  shaking  faith  shoifld  have  upheld  them  in  so  great  combats,  when  Satan 
had  almost  catched  them.  And,  indeed,  it  is  to  be  wondered  how  much  a 
little  grace  will  prevail  with  God  for  acceptance,  and  over  our  enemies  for 
victory,  if  the  heart  be  upright.  Such  is  the  goodness  of  our  sweet  Saviour, 
that  he  delig:hteth  still  to  shew  his  strength  in  our  weakness. 

Use^  1.  First,  therefore,  for  the  great  consolation  of  poor  and  weak 
Christians,  let  them  know,  that  a  spark  from  heaven,  though  kindled  under 
greenwood  that  sobs  (g)  and  smokes,  yet  it  will  consume  all  at  last.  Love  once 
kindled  is  strong  as  death,  much  water  cannot  quench  it,  and  therefore  it 
is  called  a  vehement  flame,  or  flame  of  God,  Cant.  viii.  6,  kindled  in  the 
heart  by  the  Holy  Ghost ;  that  httle  that  is  in  us  is  fed  with  an  everlast- 
ing spring.  As  the  fire  that  came  down  from  heaven  in  Elias  his  time, 
1  Kings  xviii.  38,  licked  up  all  the  water,  to  shew  that  it  came  from  God, 
BO  will  this  fire  spend  all  oui-  corruption ;  no  afiliction  without,  or  corrup- 
tion within,  shall  quench  it.  In  the  morning  we  see  oft  clouds  gather  about 
the  sun,  as  if  they  would  hide  it,  but  the  sun  wasteth  them  by  little  and 
little,  till  it  come  to  its  full  strength.  At  the  first,  fears  and  doubts  hinder 
*  '  And  it  is,'  in  A.    f  '  That  .  .  .  lieth,'  added  first  in  B.    J  '  Person,'  in  A  and  B. 


i 


AND  SMOKING  FLAX.  87 

the  breaking  out  of  tliis  fii'e,  until  at  length  it  gets  above  them  all,  and 
Christ  prevails  ;  and  then  he  backs  his  own  graces  in  us.  Grace  conquers 
us  first,  and  we  by  it  conquer  all  things  else ;  whether  it  be  corruptions 
within  us,  or  temptations  without  us. 

The  church  of  Christ,  begotten  by  the  word  of  truth,  hath  the  doctrine 
of  the  apostles  for  her  crown,  and  tramples  the  moon,  that  is,  the  world, 
and  all  worldly  things,  '  under  her  feet,'  Kev.  xii.  1  ;  '  every  one  that  is 
bom  of  God  overcometh  the  world,'  1  John  v.  4.  Faith,  whereby  espe- 
cially Christ  rules,  sets  the  soul  so  high,  that  it  overlooks  all  other  things 
as  far  below,  as  having  represented  to  it,  by  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  riches, 
honour,  beauty,  pleasures  of  a  higher  nature. 

Now  that  we  may  not  come  short  of  the  comfort  intended,  there  are  two 
things  especially  to  be  taken  notice  of  by  us  :  1.  Whether  there  be  such  a 
judgment  or  government  set  up  in  us,  to  which  this  promise  of  victory  is 
made,  2.  Some  rules  or  directions  how  we  are  to  carry  ourselves,  that  the 
judgment  of  Christ  in  us  may  indeed  be  victorious. 

The  evidences  whereby  we  may  come  to  know  that  Christ's  judgment  in 
us  is  such  as  wiU  be  victorious,  are,  1,  If  we  be  able  from  experience  to 
justify  all  Christ's  ways,  let  flesh  and  blood  say  what  it  can  to  the  contrary, 
and  can  wilUngly  subscribe  to  that  course  which  God  hath  taken  in  Christ, 
to  bring  us  to  heaven,  and  still  approve  a  further  measure  of  grace  than  we 
have  attained  unto,  and  project  and  forecast  for  it.  No  other  men  can 
justify  their  courses,  when  their  conscience  is  awaked.  2.  When  reasons 
of  religion  be  the  strongest  reasons  with  us,  and  prevail  more  than  reasons 
fetched  fi-om  worldly  policy.  3.  When  we  are  so  true  to  our  ends  and  fast 
to  our  rale,  as  no  hopes  or  fears  can  sway  us  another  way,  but  stiU  we  are 
looking  what  agrees  or  differs  from  our  rule.  4.  When  we  '  can  do  nothing 
against  the  truth,  but  for  the  truth,'  2  Cor.  xiii.  8,  as  being  dearer  to  us 
than  our  lives  ;  truth  hath  not  this  sovereignty  in  the  heart  of  any  carnal 
man.  5.  When  if  we  had  liberty  to  choose  under  whose  government  we 
would  live,  yet  out  of  a  delight  in  the  inner  man  to  Christ's  government  we 
would  make  choice  of  him  only  to  rule  us  before  any  other,  for  this  argues, 
that  we  are  like-minded  to  Christ,  a  free  and  a  voluntary  people,  and  not 
compelled  unto  Christ's  service,  otherwise  than  by  the  sweet  constraint  of 
love.  When  we  are  so  far  in  liking  with  the  government  of  Christ's  Spirit, 
that  we  are  willing  to  resign  up  ourselves  to  him  in  all  things,  for  then  his 
kingdom  is  come  unto  us,  when  our  wiUs  are  brought  to  his  will.  It  is  the 
bent  of  our  wills  that  maketh  us  good  or  ill. 

6.  A  well  ordered  uniform  life,  not  by  fits  or  starts,  shews  a  well  ordered 
heart  a  m  a  cloc;k  when  the  hammer  strikes  well,  and  the  hand  of  the  dial 
points  well,  it  is  a  sign  that  the  wheels  are  right  set.  7.  When  Christ's 
will  Cometh  in  competition  with  any  earthly  loss  or  gain,  yet  if  then,  in 
that  particular  case,  the  heart  wiU  stoop  to  Christ,  it  is  a  true  sign ;  for  the 
truest  trial  of  the  power  of  grace  is  in  such  particular  cases  which  touch  us 
nearest,  for  there  our  corruption  maketh  the  greatest  head.  When  Christ 
came  near  home  to  the  young  man.  Matt.  x.  22,  in  the  gospel,  he  lost  a 
disciple  of  him.  8.  When  we  can  practise  duties  pleasing  to  Chi-ist,  though 
contrary  to  flesh,  and  the  course  of  the  world,  and  when  we  can  over- 
come ourselves  in  that  evil  to  which  our  nature  is  prone,  and  standeth 
60  much  inclined  unto,  and  which  agreeth  to  the  sway  of  the  times,  and 
which  others  lie  enthralled  under,  as  desire  of  revenge,  hatred  of  enemies, 
private  ends,  &c.,  then  it  appears  that  grace  is  in  us  above  nature,  heaven 
above  earth,  and  will  have  the  victory. 


88  THE  BRUISED  REED 

For  the  further  clearing  of  this  and  helping  of  us  in  our  trial,  we  must 
know  there  be  three  degrees  of  victory.  1.  AVhen  we  resist  though  we  be 
foiled.  2.  When  grace  gets  the  better  though  with  conflict.  3.  When  all 
corruption  is  perfectly  subdued.  Now  we  have  strength  but  only  to  resist, 
yet  we  may  know  Christ's  government  in  us  will  be  victorious,  because 
what  is  said  of  the  devil  is  said  of  all  our  spiritual  enemies,  '  If  we  resist, 
they  shall  in  time  fly  from  us,'  James  iv.  7  ;  because  '  stronger  is  he  that 
is  in  us,'  that  taketh  part  with  his  own  grace,  '  than  he  that  is  in  the  world,' 
1  John  iv.  4.  And  if  we  may  hope  for  victory  upon  bare  resistance,  what 
may  we  not  hope  for  when  the  Spirit  hath  gotten  the  upper  hand  ? 


[Chapter  XXIII. — Means  to  make  Grace  victoriotis.] 

For  the  second,  that  is,  directions. 

We  must  know,  though  Christ  hath  undertaken  this  victory,  yet  he  ac- 
complisheth  it  by  training  us  up  to  fight  his  battles  ;  he  overcometh  in  us, 
by  making  us  'wise  to  salvation,'  2  Tim.  iii.  15  ;  and  in  what  degree  we 
believe  Christ  will  conquer,  in  that  degree  we  will  endeavour  by  his  grace 
that  we  may  conquer ;  for  faith  is  an  obedient  and  a  wise  grace.  Christ 
maketh  us  wise  to  ponder  and  weigh  things,  and  thereupon  to  rank  and 
order  them  so  as  we  may  make  the  fitter  choice  of  what  is  best.  Some  rules 
to  help  us  in  judging  are  these  : 

(1.)  To  judge  of  things  as  they  help  or  hinder  the  main ;  (2.)  as  they 
further  or  hinder  our  reckoning ;  (3.)  as  they  make  us  more  or  less 
spiritual,  and  so  bring  us  nearer  to  the  fountain  of  goodness,  God  himself; 
(4.)  as  they  bring  us  peace  or  sorrow  at  the  last ;  (5.)  as  they  commend  us 
moi-e  or  less  to  God,  and  wherein  we  shall  approve  ourselves  to  him  most ; 
(6.)  likewise  to  judge  of  things  now,  as  we  shall  do  hereafter  when  the  soul 
shall  be  best  able  to  judge,  as  when  we  are  under  any  public  calamity,  or 
at  the  hour  of  death,  when  the  soul  gathereth  itself  from  all  other  things  to 
itself.  (7.)  Look  back  to  former  experience,  see  what  is  most  agreeable 
unto  it,  what  was  best  in  our  worst  times.  If  grace  is  or  was  best  then,  it 
is  best  now.  And  (8.)  labour  to  judge  of  things  as  he  doth  who  must  judge 
us,  and  as  holy  men  judge,  who  are  led  by  the*  Spirit ;  more  particularly, 
(9.)  what  those  judge,  that  have  no  interest  in  any  benefit  that  may  come 
by  the  thing  which  is  in  question  :  for  outward  things  blind  the  eyes  even 
of  the  wise  ;  we  see  papists  are  most  corrupt  in  those  things  where  their 
honom-,  ease,  or  profit  is  engaged ;  but  in  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  which 
doth  not  touch  upon  these  things,  they  are  sound.  But  it  is  not  sufiicient 
that  judgment  be  right,  but  likewise  ready  and  strong. 

1.  Where  Christ  estabhsheth  his  government,  he  inspireth  care  to  keep 
the  judgment  clear  and  fresh,  for  whilst  the  judgment  standeth  straight  and 
firm,  the  whole  frame  of  the  soul  coutinueth  strong  and  impregnable. 
True  judgment  in  us  advanceth  Christ,  and  Christ  will  advance  it.  All  sin 
is  either  fi-om  false  principles,  or  ignorance,  or  mindlessness,  or  unbelief  of 
true.  By  inconsideration  and  weakness  of  assent.  Eve  lost  her  hold  at  first, 
Gen.  iii.  6.  It  is  good,  therefore,  to  store  up  true  principles  in  our  hearts, 
and  to  refresh  them  often,  that  in  virtue  of  them  our  afi"ections  and  actions 
may  be  more  vigorous.  When  judgment  is  fortified,  evil  finds  no  entrance, 
but  good  things  have  a  side  within  us,  to  entertain  them.  Whilst  true 
convincuig  light  continueth,  we  will  not  do  the  least  iU  of  sin  for  the  greatest 
*  '  His.'  in  A  and  B. 


AND  SMOKING  FLAX.  89 

ill  of  punishment.  '  In  vain  is  the  net  spread  in  the  eyes  of  that  which 
hath  wings,'  Prov.  i.  17.  Whilst  the  soul  is  kept  aloft,  there  is  httle 
danger  of  snares  below ;  we  lose  our  high  estimation  of  things  before  we 
can  be  drawn  to  any  sin. 

And  because  knowledge  and  affection  mutually  help  one  another,  it  is 
good  to  keep  up  our  affections  of  love  and  delight,  by  all  sweet  inducements 
and  divine  encouragements ;  for  what  the  heart  liketh  best,  the  mind 
studieth  most.  Those  that  can  bring  their  hearts  to  delight  in  Christ  know 
most  of  his  ways.  Wisdom  loveth  him*  that  loves  her.  Love  is  the  best 
entertainer  of  truth ;  and  when  it  is  not  '  entertained  in  the  love  of  it,' 
2  Thess.  ti.  10,  being  so  lovely  as  it  is,  it  leaveth  the  heart,  and  will  stay 
no  longer.  It  hath  been  a  prevailing  way  to  begin  by  withdrawing  the  love 
to  corrupt  the  judgment ;  because  as  we  love,  so  we  use  to  judge ;  and 
therefore  it  is  hard  to  be  affectionate  and  wise  in  earthly  things ;  but  in 
heavenly  things,  where  there  hath  been  a  right  information  of  the  judgment 
before,  the  more  our  affections  grow,  the  better  and  clearer  our  judgments 
will  be,  because  our  affections,  though  strong,  can  never  rise  high  enough 
to  the  excellency  of  the  things.  We  see  in  the  martyrs,  when  the  sweet 
doctrine  of  Christ  had  once  gotten  their  hearts,  it  could  not  be  gotten  out 
agaia  by  all  the  torments  the  wit  of  cruelty  could  devise.  If  Christ  hath 
once  possessed  the  affections,  there  is  no  dispossessing  of  him  again.  A 
jfire  in  the  heart  overcometh  all  fires  without. 

3.  Wisdom  likewise  teacheth  us  wherein  our  weakness  lieth,  and  our 
enemy's  strength,  whereby  a  jealous  fear  is  stii-red  up  in  us,  whereby  we 
are  preserved ;  for  out  of  this  godly  jealousy  we  keep  those  provocations 
which  are  active  and  working,  from  that  which  is  passive  and  catching  in 
us,  as  we  keep  fire  from  powder.  They  that  will  hinder  the  generation 
of  noisome  creatures  wiU  hinder  the  conception  first,  by  keeping  male  and 
female  asunder.  This  jealousy  will  be  much  furthered  by  observing  strictly 
what  hath  helped  or  hindered  a  gracious  temper  in  us ;  and  it  will  make 
us  take  heed  that  we  consult  not  with  flesh  and  blood  in  om'selves  or  others. 
How  else  can  we  think  that  Christ  wiU  lead  us  out  to  victory,  when  wo 
take  counsel  of  his  and  our  enemies  ? 

4.  Christ  maketh  us  likewise  careful  to  attend  all  means  whereby  fresh 
thoughts  and  affections  may  be  stirred  up  and  preserved  in  us.  Christ  so 
honoureth  the  use  of  means,  and  the  care  he  putteth  into  us,  that  he 
ascribeth  both  preservation  and  victoiy  unto  our  care  of  keeping  ourselves. 
*  He  that  is  begotten  of  God  keepeth  himself,'  1  John  v.  18,  but  not  by 
himself,  but  by  the  Lord,  in  dependence  on  him  on  the  use  of  means.  We 
are  no  longer  safe  than  wise  to  present  ourselves  to  aU  good  advantages  of 
acquaintance,  &c.  By  going  out  of  God's  walks  we  go  out  of  his  govern- 
ment, and  so  lose  our  frame,  and  find  ourselves  overspread  quickly  with  a 
contrary  disposition.  When  we  draw  near  to  Christ,  James  iv.  8,  in  his 
ordinances,  he  draws  near  unto  us. 

6.  Keep  gi'ace  in  exercise.  It  is  not  sleepy  habits,  but  grace  in  exercise, 
that  preserveth  us.  Whilst  the  soul  is  in  some  civil  or  sacred  employment, 
corruptions  within  us  are  much  suppressed,  and  Satan's  passages  stopped, 
and  the  Spirit  hath  a  way  open  to  enlarge  itself  in  us,  and  likewise  the 
guard  of  angels  then  most  nearly  attends  us ;  which  course  often  prevails 
more  against  our  spiritual  enemies  than  direct  opposition.  It  stands  upon 
Christ's  honour  to  maintain  those  that  are  in  his  work. 

6.  Sixthly,  in  all  directions  we  must  look  up  to  Christ  the  quickening 
*  '  Them,'  in  A  and  B. 


go  THE  BRUISED  REED 

Spirit,  and  resolve  in  his  strength.  Though  we  are  exhorted  to  '  cleave  to 
the  Lord  with  full  purpose  of  heart,'  Acts  xi.  23,  yet  we  must  pray  with 
David,  '  Lord,  for  ever  keep  it  in  the  thoughts  of  our  hearts,  and  prepare 
our  hearts  unto  thee,'  1  Chron.  xxix.  13.  Our  hearts  are  of  themselves 
very  loose  and  unsettled,  '  Lord,  unite  our  hearts  unto  thee  to  fear  thy 
name,'  Ps.  Ixxxvi.  11,  or  else,  without  him,  our  best  purposes  will  fall  to 
the  ground.  It  is  a  pleasing  request,  out  of  love  to  God,  to  beg  such  a 
frame  of  soul  from  him,  wherein  he  may  take  delight ;  and  therefore  in  the 
use  of  all  the  means  we  must  send  up  our  desires  and  complaints  to  heaven 
to  him  for  strength  and  help,  and  then  we  may  be  sure  that  '  he  will  bring 
forth  judgment  unto  victory.' 

7.  Lastly,  it  furthers  the  state  of  the  soul,  to  know  what  frame  it  should 
be  in,  that  so  we  may  order  our  souls  accordingly.  We  should  always  be 
fit  for  communion  with  God,  and  be  heavenly-minded  in  earthly  business, 
and  be  willing  to  be  taken  off  from  them,  to  redeem  time  for  better  things. 
We  should  be  ready  at  all  times  to  depart  hence,  and  to  live  in  such  a  con- 
dition as  we  would  be  content  to  die  in.  We  should  have  hearts  prepared 
for  every  good  duty,  open  to  all  good  occasions,  and  shut  to  all  temptations, 
keeping  our  watch,  and  being  always  ready  armed.  So  far  as  we  come 
short  of  these  things,  so  far  we  have  just  cause  to  be  humbled,  and  yet 
press  forward,  that  we  may  gain  more  upon  ourselves,  and  make  these 
things  more  familiar  and  lovely  unto  us  ;  and  when  we  find  our  souls  any 
ways  falling  downwards,  it  is  best  to  raise  them  up  presently  by  some 
waking  meditations,  as  of  the  presence  of  God,  of  the  strict  reckoning  we 
are  to  make,  of  the  infinite  love  of  God  in  Christ,  and  the  fruits  of  it,  of 
the  excellency  of  a  Christian's  calling,  of  the  short  and  vmcertain  time  of 
this  life ;  how  little  good  all  those  things  that  steal  away  our  hearts  will  do 
us  ere  long,  and  how  it  shall  be  for  ever  with  us  thereafter,  as  we  spend 
this  little  time  well  or  ill,  &c.  The  more  we  give  way  for  such  considera- 
tions to  sink  into  our  hearts,  the  more  we  shall  rise  nearer  to  that  state  of 
soul  which  we  shall  enjoy  in  heaven.  When  we  grow  regardless  of  keeping 
our  souls,  then  God  recovers  our  taste  of  good  things  again  by  sharp  crosses. 
Thus  David,  Solomon,  Samson,  &c.,  were  recovered.  It  is  much  easier 
kept  than  recovered. 

Object.  But,  notwithstanding  my  striving,  I  seem  to  stand  at  a  stay. 

Am.  1.  Grace,  as  the  seed  in  the  parable,  grows,  we  know  not  how,  yet 
at  length,  when  God  seeth  fittest,  we  shall  see  that  all  our  endeavour  hath 
not  been  in  vain.  The  tree  falleth  upon  the  last  stroke,  yet  all  the  former 
strokes  help  it  forward. 

Ans.  2.  Sometimes  victory  is  suspended  because  some  Achan  is  not 
found  out,  Judges  xx.  26,  or  because  we  are  not  humble  enough,  as  Israel 
had  the  worst  against  the  Benjamites  till  they  fasted  and  prayed ;  or  be- 
cause we  betray  our  helps,  and  stand  not  upon  our  guard,  and  yield  not 
presently  to  the  motions  of  the  Spu-it,  which  mindeth  us  always  of  the  best 
things,  if  we  would  regard  it.  Our  own  consciences  will  tell  us,  if  we  give 
them  leave  to  speak,  that  some  sinful  favouring  of  ourselves  is  the  cause. 
The  way  in  this  case  to  prevail  is,  1,  To  get  the  victory  over  the  pride  of 
our  own  nature,  by  taking  shame  to  ourselves,  in  humble  confession  to  God; 
and  then,  2,  To  overcome  the  unbelief  of  our  hearts,  by  yielding  to  the 
promise  of  pardon ;  and  then,  3,  In  confidence  of  Christ's  assistance,  to  set 
ourselves  against  those  sins  which  have  prevailed  over  us ;  and  then  pre- 
vailing over  ourselves,  we  shall  easily  prevail  over  all  our  enemies,  and 
conquer  all  conditions  we  shall  be  brought  into. 


AND  SMOKING  FLAX.  91 


[Chapter  XXIV. — All  should  side  ivith  Christ.] 

Use  2.  If  Christ  will  have  the  victory,  then  it  is  the  best  way  for  nations 
and  states  to  '  kiss  the  Son,'  Ps.  ii.  12,  and  to  embrace  Christ  and  his  religion, 
to  side  with  Christ,  and  to  own  his  cause  in  the  world.  His  side  will  prove 
the  stronger  side  at  last.  Happy  are  we  if  Christ  honour  us  so  much  as 
to  use  our  help  '  to  fight  his  battle  against  the  mighty,'  Judges  v.  23.  True 
religion  in  a  state  is  as  the  main  pillar  of  a  house,  and  staiF  of  a  tent  that 
upholds  all.  2.  So  for  families,  let  Christ  be  the  chief  governor  of  the  family ; 
and  3,  Let  eveij  one  be  as  a  house  of  Christ,  to  dwell  familiarly  in,  and  to 
rule.  Where  Christ  is,  all  happiness  must  follow.  If  Christ  goeth,  all  will 
go.  Where  Christ's  government  in  his  ordinances  and  his  Spirit  is,  there 
all  subordinate  government  will  prosper.  Keligion  inspii'eth  life  and  grace 
into  all  other  things  ;  all  other  virtues,  without  it  they  are  but  as  a  fair  pic- 
ture without  a  head.  Where  Christ's  laws  are  written  in  the  heart,  there 
all  other  good  laws  are  best  obeyed.  None  despise  man's  law  but  those 
that  despise  Christ's  first.  Nemo  humanam  authoritatem  contemnit,  nisi 
qui  divinam  priiis  contempsit.  Of  all  persons,  a  man  guided  by  Christ  is  the 
best ;  and  of  all  creatures  in  the  world,  a  man  guided  by  will  and  affection, 
next  the  devil,  is  the  worst.  The  happiness  of  weaker  things  stands  in 
being  ruled  by  stronger.  It  is  best  for  a  blind  man  to  be  guided  by  him 
that  hath  sight,  it  is  best  for  sheep,  and  such  like  shiftless  creatures,  to 
be  guided  by  man,  and  it  is  happiest  for  man  to  be  guided  by  Christ,  be- 
cause his  government  is  so  victorious  that  it  frees  us  from  the  fear  and 
danger  of  our  greatest  enemies,  and  tends  to  bring  us  to  the  greatest  happi- 
ness that  our  nature  is  capable  of.  This  should  make  us  to  joy  when 
Christ  reigneth  in  us.  When  '  Solomon  was  crowned,  the  people  shouted,' 
BO  that  the  earth  rang,'  1  Kings  i.  39,  40.  Much  more  should  we  rejoice 
in  Christ  our  king. 

And  hkewise  for  those  whose  souls  are  dear  unto  us,  our  endeavour 
should  be  that  Christ  may  reign  in  them  also,  that  they  may  be  baptized  by 
Christ  with  this  fiire,  Matt.  iii.  11,  that  these  sparks  may  be  kindled  in  them. 
Men  labour  to  cherish  the  spirit  and  mettle,  as  they  term  it,  of  those  they 
train  up,  because  they  think  they  will  have  use  of  it  in  the  manifold  affairs 
and  troubles  of  this  hfe.  Oh,  but  let  us  cherish  the  sparks  of  grace  in 
them ;  for  a  natural  spirit  in  great  troubles  will  fail,  but  these  sparks  will 
make  them  conquerors  over  the  greatest  evils. 

Use  3.  If  Christ's  judgment  shall  be  victorious,  then  popery,  being  an 
opposite  frame,  set  up  by  the  wit  of  man  to  maintain  stately  idleness,  must 
fall.  And  it  is  fallen  already  in  the  hearts  of  those  upon  whom  Christ 
hath  shined.  It  is  a  lie,  and  founded  upon  a  lie,  upon  the  infallible  judg- 
ment of  a  man  subject  to  sia  and  error.  When  that  which  is  taken  for  a 
principle  of  truth  becomes  a  principle  of  error,  the  more  relying  upon  it, 
the  more  danger. 

[Chapter  XXV. — Christ's  government  shall  be  openly  victorious.] 

It  is  not  only  said,  judgment  shall  be  victorious,  but  that  Christ  will  bring 
it  openly  forth  to  victory.  Whence  we  observe  that  grace  shall  be  glory, 
and  run  into  the  eyes  of  all.  Now  Christ  doth  conquer,  and  hath  his  own 
ends,  but  it  is  in  some  sort  invisibly.     His  enemies  within  and  without  us 


92  THE  BKUISED  REED 

Beem  to  have  the  better.  But  he  will  bring  forth  judgment  unto  victory, 
to  the  view  of  all.  The  wicked  that  now  shut  their  eyes  shall  see  it  to 
their  torment.  It  shall  not  be  m  the  power  of  subtle  men  to  see  or  not  see 
what  they  would.  Christ  will  have  -power  over  their  hearts ;  and  as  his 
wrath  shall  immediately  seize  upon  their  souls  against  then-  wills,  so  will  he 
have  power  over  the  eyes  of  their  souls,  to  see  and  know  what  will  increase 
their  misery.  Grief  shall  be  fastened  to  all  their  senses,  and  their  senses 
to  grief. 

Then  all  the  false  glosses  which  they  put  upon  things  shall  be  wiped  off. 
Men  are  desirous  to  have  the  reputation  of  good,  and  yet  the  sweetness  of 
ill;  nothing  so  cordially  opposed  by  them  as  that  truth  which  layeth  them 
open  to  themselves,  and  to  the  eyes  of  others,  their  chief  care  being  how  to 
daub  with  the  world  and  their  own  consciences.  But  the  time  will  come 
when  they  shall  be  driven  out  of  this  fools'  paradise,  and  the  more  subtle 
their  conveyance  of  things  hath  been,  the  more  shall  be  their  shame. 
Christ,  whom  God  hath  chosen  to  set  forth  the  chief  glory  of  his  excellen- 
cies, is  now  veiled  in  regard  of  his  body  the  church,  but  will  come  ere  long 
to  be  glorious  in  his  saints,  2  Thess.  i.  10,  and  not  lose  the  clear  manifesta- 
tion of  any  of  his  attributes ;  and  will  declare  to  all  the  world  what  he  is, 
when  there  shall  be  no  glory  but  that  of  Christ  and  his  spouse.  Those 
that  are  as  smoking  flax  now  shall  then  '  shine  as  the  sun  in  the  firmament,' 
Matt.  xiii.  43,  and  their  '  righteousness  break  forth  as  the  noon-day,'  Ps. 
xxxvii.  6. 

The  image  of  God  in  Adam  had  a  commanding  majesty  in  it,  so  that  all 
creatures  reverenced  him  ;  much  more  shall  the  image  of  God  in  the  per- 
fection of  it  command  respect  in  all.  Even  now  there  is  a  secret  awe  put 
into  the  hearts  of  the  greatest,  towards  those  in  whom  they  see  any  grace 
to  shine,  from  whence  it  was  that  Herod  feared  John  Baptist ;  but  what 
will  this  be  in  their  day  of  bringing  forth,  which  is  called  '  the  day  of  the 
revelation  of  the  sons  of  God  ?'  Rom.  viii.  19. 

There  will  be  more  glorious  times  when  '  the  kingdoms  of  the  earth  shall 
be  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ's,'  Rev.  xi.  10,  and  he  shall  reign  for  ever ;  then 
shall  judgment  and  truth  have  its  victory ;  then  Christ  will  plead  his  owti 
cause;  truth  shall  no  longer  be  called  heresy  and  schism,  nor  heresy 
catholic  doctrine ;  wickedness  shall  no  longer  go  masked  and  disguised ; 
goodness  shall  appear  in  its  own  lustre,  and  shine  in  its  own  beams  ;  things 
shall  be  what  they  are,  '  nothing  is  hidden  but  shall  be  laid  open,'  Matt.  x. 
26  ;  iniquity  shall  not  be  carried  in  a  mystery  any  longer  ;  deep  dissemblers 
that  think  to  hide  their  counsels  from  the  Lord  shall  walk  no  longer  in- 
visible as  in  the  clouds.  As  *  Christ  will  not  quench  the  least  spark  kindled 
by  himself,  so  will  he  damp  the  fairest  blaze  of  goodly  appearances  which 
are  not  from  above. 

Use.  If  this  were  believed,  men  would  make  more  account  of  sincerity, 
which  will  only  give  us  boldness,  and  not  seek  for  covershames  ;  the  con- 
fidence whereof,  as  it  maketh  men  now  more  presumptuous,  so  it  will  ex- 
pose them  hereafter  to  the  greater  shame. 

If  judgment  shall  be  brought  forth  to  victory,  then  those  that  have  been 
ruled  by  their  own  deceitful  hearts  and  a  spirit  of  error,  shall  be  brought 
forth  to  disgrace  ;  that  God  that  hath  joined  grace  and  truth  with  honour, 
hath  joined  sin  and  shame  together  at  last ;  all  the  wit  and  power  of  man 
can  never  be  able  to  sever  what  God  hath  coupled.  Truth  and  piety  may 
be  trampled  upon  for  a  time,  but  as  the  two  witnesses.  Rev.  xi.  11,  after 
*  '  As  Christ  ....  above,'  not  in  A,  B,  but  in  E. 


AND  SMOKING  FLAX.  93 

they  were  slain  rose  again,  and  stood  upon  their  feet,  so  whatsoever  is  of 
God  shall  at  length  stand  upon  its  own  bottom.  There  shall  be  a  resurrec- 
tion not  only  of  bodies  but  of  credits.  Can  we  think  that  he  that  threw 
the  angels  out  of  heaven  will  suffer  dust  and  worms'  meat  to  run  a  contrary 
course,  and  to  carry  it  away  always  so  ?  No  ;  as  verily  as  Christ  is  '  I^ng 
of  kings  and  Lord  of  lords,'  Kev.  xix.  16,  so  will  he  dash  all  those  pieces 
of  earth  'which  rise  up  against  him,  as  a  potter's  vessel,'  Ps.  ii.  9.  Was 
there  ever  any  fierce  against  God  and  prospered  ?  Job  ix.  4.  No  ;  doubt- 
less the  rage  of  man  shall  turn  to  Christ's  praise,  Ps.  Ixxvi.  10.  What 
was  said  of  Pharaoh  shall  be  said  of  all  heady  enemies,  who  had  rather  lose 
their  souls  than  their  wills,  that  they  are  but  raised  up  for  Christ  to  get 
himself  glory  in  their  confusion. 

Let  us,  then,  take  heed  that  we  follow  not  the  ways  of  those  men,  whose 
ends  we  shall  tremble  at ;  there  is  not  a  more  fearfal  judgment  can  befal 
the  nature  of  man,  than  to  be  given  up  to  a  reprobate  judgment  of  persons 
and  things,  because  it  cometh  under  a  woe  '  to  call  ill  good,  and  good  ill,' 
Isa.  V.  20. 

How  will  they  be  laden  with  curses  another  day,  that  abuse  the  judgment 
of  others  by  sophistry  and  flattery,  deceivers  and  being  deceived  ?  2  Tim. 
iii.  13.  Then  the  complaint  of  our  first  mother  Eve  will  be  taken  up  but 
fruitlessly.  Gen.  xiii.  3  ;  the  serpent  hath  deceived  me ;  Satan  in  such  and 
such  hath  deceived  me  ;  sin  hath  deceived  me ;  a  foolish  heart  hath  de- 
ceived me.  It  is  one  of  the  highest  points  of  wisdom  to  consider  upon  what 
grounds  we  venture  our  souls.  Happy  men  will  they  be,  who  have  by  Christ's 
light  a  right  judgment  of  things,  and  suffer  that  judgment  to  prevail  over 
their  hearts. 

The  soul  of  most  men  is  drowned  in  their  senses  and  carried  away  with 
weak  opinions,  raised  from  vulgar  mistakes  and  shadows  of  things.  And 
Satan  is  ready  to  enlarge  the  imagination  of  outward  good  and  outward  ill, 
and  make  it  greater  than  it  is,  and  spiritual  things  less,  presenting  them 
through  false  glasses.  And  so  men,  trusting  in  vanity,  vanquish  themselves 
in  their  own  apprehensions.  A  woful  condition,  when  both  we  and  that 
which  we  highly  esteem  shall  vanish  together,  which  will  be  as  truly  as 
Christ's  judgment  shall  come  to  victory ;  and  in  what  measure  the  vain 
heart  of  man  hath  been  enlarged,  to  conceive  a  greater  good  in  things  of 
this  world  than  there  is,  by  so  much  the  soul  shall  be  enlarged  to  be  more 
sensible  of  misery  when  it  sees  its  error.  This  is  the  difference  betwixt  a 
godly  wise  man  and  a  deluded  worldling ;  that  which  the  one  doth  now 
judge  to  be  vain,  the  other  shall  hereafter  feel  to  be  so  when  it  is  too  late. 
But  this  is  the  vanity  of  our  natures,  that  though  we  shun  above  all  things 
to  be  deceived  and  mistaken  in  present  things,  yet  in  the  greatest  matters 
of  all  we  are  willingly  ignorant  and  misled. 


[Chapter  XXVI. — Christ  alone  advanceth  this  government.] 

The  fifth  conclusion  is,  that  this  government  is  set  up  and  advanced  by 
Christ  alone  ;  he  bringeth  judgment  to  victory.  We  both  fight  and  prevail 
'  in  the  power  of  his  might,'  Eph.  vi.  10 ;  we  overcome  by  the  Spirit,  obtained 
by  '  the  blood  of  the  Lamb,'  Eev.  xii.  11. 

It  is  he  alone  that  *  teacheth  our  hands  to  war  and  fingers  to  fight,'  Ps. 
cxliv.  1.  Nature,  as  corrupted,  favours  its  own  being,  and  will  maintain 
itself  against  Christ's  government.     Nature,  simply  considered,  cannot  raise 


94  THE  BRUISED  EEED 

itself  above  itself  to  actions  spiritual  of  a  higher  order  and  nature  ;  there- 
fore the  divine  power  of  Christ  is  necessary  to  carry  us  above  all  our  own 
strength,  especially  in  duties  wherein  we  meet  with  greater  opposition  ;  for 
there  not  only  nature  will  fail  us,  but  ordinary  grace,  unless  there  be  a 
stronger  and  a  new  supply.  In  taking  up  a  bui-den  that  is  weightier  than 
ordinary,  if  there  be  not  a  greater  proportion  of  strength  than  weight,  the 
undertaker  will  Ue  under  it ;  so  to  eveiy  strong  encounter  there  must  be  a 
new  supply  of  strength,  as  in  Peter,  Matt,  xx-vi.  69,  when  he  was  assaulted 
with  a  stronger  temptation,  being  not  upheld  and  shored  up  with  a 
mightier  hand,  notwithstanding  foi-mer  strength,  foully  fell.  And  being 
fallen,  in  our  raisings  up  again  it  is  Christ  that  must  do  the  work,  1,  By 
removing  ;  or  2,  Weakening ;  or  3,  Suspending  opposite  hinderances  ;  4, 
And  by  advancing  the  power  of  his  grace  in  us,  to  a  further  degree  than  we 
had  before  we  fell ;  therefore  when  we  are  fallen,  and  by  falls  have  gotten  a 
bruise,  let  us  go  to  Chiist  presently  to  bind  us  up  again. 

Use.  Let  us  know,  therefore,  that  it  is  dangerous  to  look  for  that  from 
ourselves  which  we  must  have  fi'om  Christ.  Since  the  fall,  all  our  strength 
lies  in  him,  as  Samson's  in  his  hair,  Judges  xvi.  17;  we  are  but  subordinate 
agents,  moving  as  we  are  moved,  and  working  as  we  are  first  wrought  upon, 
free  so  far  forth  as  we  are  freed,  no  wiser  nor  stronger  than  he  makes  us  to 
be  for  the  present  in  anything  we  undertake.*  It  is  his  Spirit  that  actuates 
and  enliveneth,  and  applieth  that  knowledge  and  strength  we  have,  or  else 
it  faUeth  and  Ueth  as  useless  in  us ;  we  work  when  we  work  upon  a  present 
strength ;  therefore  dependent  spirits  are  the  wisest  and  the  ablest.  No- 
thing is  stronger  than  humility,  that  goeth  out  of  itself ;  or  weaker  than 
pride,  that  resteth  upon  its  own  bottom,  Fnistra  nititur  qui  non  innititur ; 
and  this  should  the  rather  be  observed,  because  naturally  we  affect  a  kind 
of  divinity,  affectatio  divinitatis,  in  setting  upon  actions  in  the  strength  of  our 
own  parts;  whereas  Christ  saith,  'Without  me  you,'  apostles  that  are  in  a  state 
of  grace,  '  can  do  nothing,'  John  xv.  5,  he  doth  not  say  you  can  do  a  little, 
but  nothing.  Of  ourselves, f  how  easily  are  we  overcome  !  how  weak  to  re- 
sist !  we  are  as  reeds  shaken  with  every  wind  ;  we  shake  at  the  very  noise 
and  thought  of  poverty,  disgi-ace,  losses,  &c.,  we  give  in  presently,  we  have 
no  power  over  our  eyes,  tongues,  thoughts,  affections,  but  let  sin  pass  in 
and  out.  How  soon  are  we  overcome  of  evil !  whereas  we  should  overcome 
evil  with  good.  How  many  good  purposes  stick  in  the  birth,  and  have  no 
strength  to  come  forth !  aU  which  shews  how  nothing  we  are  without  the 
Spirit  of  Christ.  We  see  how  weak  the  apostles  themselves  were,  till  they 
were  endued  with  strength  from  above.  Matt.  xx\i.  69.  Peter  was  blasted 
with  the  speech  of  a  damsel,  but  after  the  Spirit  of  Christ  fell  upon  them,  the 
more  they  suffered,  the  more  they  were  encouraged  to  suffer ;  then*  com- 
forts grew  with  their  troubles  ;  therefore  in  all,  especially  difficult  encounters, 
let  us  lift  up  our  hearts  to  Chiist,  who  hath  Spirit  enough  for  us  all,  in  all 
our  exigencies,  and  say  with  good  Jehoshaphat,  'Lord,  we  know  not  what  to 
do,  but  oiir  eyes  are  towards  thee,'  2  Chi-on.  xx.  12 ;  the  battle  we  fight  is 
thine,  and  the  strength  whereby  we  fight  must  be  thine.  If  thou  goest  not 
out  with  us,  we  are  sure  to  be  foiled.  Satan  knows  nothing  can  prevail 
against  Christ,  or  those  that  rely  upon  his  power ;  therefore  his  study  is,  how 
to  keep  us  in  ourselves,  and  in  the  creature  :  but  we  must  carry  this  alwaya 
in  our  minds,  that  that  which  is  begun  in  self-confidence  will  end  in  shame. 

*  Sic  se  habent  mortalium  corda :  qusB  scimus,  cum  necesse  non  est,  in  necessitate 
nescimus. — jBer[nard]  de  consid. 

t  '  Of  ourselves  ....  troubles,'  added  first  in  B. 


AND  SMOKING  FLAX.  95 

The  manner  of  Chi-ist's  bringing  foy-th  judgment  to  victory,  is  by  letting  ua 
see  a  necessity  of  dependence  upon  him ;  hence  proceed  those  spiritual  de- 
sertions wherein  he  often  leaveth  us  to  ourselves,  both  in  regard  of  grace 
and  comfort,  that  we  may  know  the  spring  head  of  these  to  be  out  of  our- 
selves. Hence  it  is  that  in  the  mount,  that  is,  in  extremities,  God  is  most 
seen,  Gen.  xxii.  13.  Hence  it  is  that  we  are  saved  by  the  grace  of  faith, 
that  carrieth  us  out  of  ourselves  to  rely  upon  another  ;  and  that  faith  worketh 
best  alone,  when  it  hath  least  outward  support.  Hence  it  is,  that  we  often 
fail  in  lesser  conflicts,  and  stand  out  in  greater,  because  in  lesser  we  rest 
more  in  oui'selves,  in  greater  we  fly  to  the  rock  of  our  salvation,  which  is 
higher  than  we,  Ps.  Ixi.  2.  Hence  likewise  it  is,  that  we  are  stronger  after 
foils,  because  hidden  corruption,  undiscerned  before,  is  now  discovered,  and 
thence  we  are  brought  to  make  use  of  mercy  pardoning,  and  power  sup- 
porting. One  main  ground  of  this  dispensation  is,  that  we  should  know  it 
is  Christ  that  giveth  both  the  will  and  the  deed,  and  that  as  a  voluntary 
work*  according  to  his  own  good  pleasure.  And  therefore  we  should  'work 
out  our  salvation  in  a  jealous  fear  and  trembling,'  Phil.  ii.  12,  lest  by 
unreverent  and  presumptuous  walking,  we  give  him  cause  to  suspend  his 
gracious  influence,  and  to  leave  us  to  the  darkness  of  our  own  heart. 

Those  that  are  under  Christ's  government  have  the  spirit  of  revelation, 
whereby  they  see  and  feel  a  divine  power  sweetly  and  strongly  enabling 
them  for  to  preserve  faith,  when  they  feel  the  contrary,  and  hope  in  a  state 
hopeless,  and  love  to  God  under  signs  of  his  displeasure,  and  heavenly- 
mindedness  in  the  midst  of  worldly  afiairs  and  allurements,  drawing  a 
contrary  way.  They  feel  a  power  preserving  patience,  nay,  joy  in  the 
midst  of  causes  of  mourning,  inward  peace  in  the  midst  of  assaults. 
Whence  f  is  it  that,  when  we  are  assaulted  with  temptation,  and  when 
compassed  with  troubles,  we  have  stood  out,  but  from  a  secret  strength 
upholding  us  ?  To  make  so  little  grace  so  victorious  over  so  great  a  mass 
of  corruption,  this  requireth  a  spirit  more  than  human  ;  this  is  as  to 
preserve  fire  in  the  sea,  and  a  part  of  heaven  even  as  it  were  in  hell.  Here 
we  know  where  to  have  this  power,  and  to  whom  to  return  the  praise  of  it. 
And  it  is  our  happiness,  that  it  is  so  safely  hid  in  Christ  for  us,  in  one  so 
near  unto  God  and  us.  Since  the  fall,  God  will  not  trust  us  with  our  own 
salvation,  but  it  is  both  pui'chased  and  kept  by  Christ  for  us,  and  we  for  it 
through  faith,  wrought  by  the  power  of  God,  and  laying  hold  of  the  same  : 
which  power  is  gloriously  set  forth  by  St  Paul,  1,  To  be  a  gi-eat  power ;  2, 
An  exceeding  power ;  3,  A  working  and  a  mighty  power ;  4,  Such  a 
power  as  was  wrought  in  raising  Christ  from  the  dead,  Eph.  i.  19.  That 
grace  which  is  but  a  persuasive  offer,  and  in  our  pleasure  to  receive  or 
refuse,  is  not  that  grace  which  brings  us  to  heaven  ;  but  God's  people  feel 
a  powerful  work  of  the  Spirit,  not  only  revealing  unto  us  our  misery,  and 
deliverance  through  Christ,  but  emptying  us  of  ourselves  as  being  redeemed 
from  ourselves,  and  infusing  new  life  into  us,  and  after  strengthening  us 
and  quickening  of  us  when  we  droop  and  hang  the  wing,  and  never  leaving 
us  till  perfect  conquest. 


[Chapter  XXVlI. — Victory  not  to  be  had  without  fighting  J] 

The  sixth  conclusion  is,  that  this  prevailing  government  shall  not  be 
without  fighting.     There  can  be  no  victory  where  there  is  no  combat.     In 
*  '  Worker,'  in  A  and  B.  f  'Whence  .  .  .      us,'  added  in  B. 


96  THE  BRUISED  REED 

Isaiali  it  is  said,  '  He  shall  bring  judgment  in  truth,'  Is.  xlii.  3  ;  here  it  ia 
said,  he  shall  send  forth  judgment  unto  victory.  The  word  '  send  forth ' 
hath  a  stronger  sense  in  the  original  (h),  to  send  forth  with  force  ;  to 
shew,  that  where  his  government  is  in  truth,  it  will  be  opposed,  until  he 
getteth  the  upper  hand.  Nothing  is  so  opposed  as  Christ  and  his  govern- 
ment, both  within  us  and  without  us.  And  within  us  most  in  our  con- 
version, though  coi-ruption  prevails  not  so  far  as  to  make  void  the  powerful 
work  of  gi-ace,  yet  there  is  not  only  a  possibility  of  opposing,  but  a  prone- 
ness  to  oppose,  and  not  only  a  proneness,  but  an  actual  withstanding  the 
working  of  Christ's  Spirit,  and  that  in  every  action,  but  yet  no  prevailing 
resistance  so  far  as  to  make  void  the  work  of  grace,  but  corruption  in  the 
issue  yields  to  grace. 

There  is  much  ado  to  bring  Christ  into  the  heart,  and  to  set  a  tribunal 
for  him  to  judge  there ;  there  is  an  army  of  lusts  [in]  mutiny  against  him. 
The  utmost  strength  of  most  men's  endeavours  and  parts  is  to  keep  Christ 
from  ruling  in  the  soul ;  the  flesh  still  laboureth  to  maintain  its  own 
regency,  and  therefore  it  cries  down  the  credit  of  whatsoever  crosseth  it, 
as  God's  blessed  ordinances,  &c.,  and  highly  prizeth  anything,  though 
never  so  dead  and  empty,  if  it  give  way  to  the  liberty  of  the  flesh. 

And  no  marvel  if  the  spiritual  government  of  Christ  be  so  opposed  :  1. 
Because  it  is  government,  and  that  limits  the  course  of  the  will,  and 
casteth  a  bridle  upon  its  wanderings  ;  everything  natural  resists  what 
opposeth  it ;  so  corrupt  will  labom's  to  bear  down  all  laws,  and  counteth  it 
a  generous  thing  not  to  be  awed,  and  an  argument  of  a  low  spirit  to  fear 
any,  even  God  himself,  until  unavoidable  danger  seizeth  on  men,  and  then 
those  that  feared  least  out  of  danger  fear  most  in  danger,  as  we  see  in 
Belshazzar,  Dan.  v.  6. 

2.  It  is  spiritual  government,  and  therefore  the  less  will  flesh  endure  it. 
Christ's  government  bringeth  the  very  thoughts  and  desires,  which  are  the 
most  immediate  and  free  issue  of  the  soul,  into  obedience.  Though  a  man 
were  of  so  composed  a  carriage,  that  his  whole  life  were  free  from  outward 
offensive  breaches,  yet  with  Christ  to  be  '  carnally  or  worldly-minded  is 
death,'  Rom.  viii.  6  :  he  looketh  on  a  worldly  mind  with  a  greater  detesta- 
tion than  any  one  particular  offence.* 

But  Christ's  Spii-it  is  in  those  who  are  in  some  degree  earthly-minded. 

Truth  it  is,  but  not  as  an  allower  and  maintainer,  but  as  an  opposer, 
subduer,  and  in  the  end  as  a  conqueror.  Carnal  men  would  fain  bring 
Christ  and  the  flesh  together,  and  could  be  content  with  some  reservation 
to  submit  to  Christ ;  but  Christ  will  be  no  underling  to  any  base  affection  ; 
and  therefore,  where  there  is  allowance  of  ourselves  in  any  sinful  lust,  it  is 
a  sign  the  keys  were  never  given  up  to  Christ  to  rule  us.   . 

3.  Again,!  this  judgment  is  opposed,  because  it  is  judgment,  and  men 
love  not  to  be  judged  and  censured.  Now  Christ,  in  his  truth,  arraigneth 
them,  giveth  sentence  against  them,  and  bindeth  them  over  to  the  latter 
judgment  of  the  great  day.  And  therefore  they  take  upon  them  to  judge 
that  truth  that  must  judge  them ;  but  truth  will  be  too  good  for  them. 
Man  hath  a  day  now,  which  St  Paul  calls  '  man's  day,'  1  Cor.  iv.  33,  wherein 
he  getteth  upon  his  bench,  and  usurpeth  a  judgment  over  Christ  and  his 
ways ;  but  God  hath  a  day  wherein  he  will  set  all  straight,  and  his  judg- 
ment shall  stand.     And  the  saints  shall  have  their  time,  when  they  shall 

*  Gravius  est  peccatum  diligere  quam  perpetrate,  &c. — GVe^[ory].  Moral.,  lib. 
sxv.  cap.  11. 

t  '  Again  ....  opposed,'  added  in  B. 


AND  SMOKING  FLAX.  97 

sit  in  judgment  upon  them  that  judge  them  now,  1  Cor.  vi.  2.  In  the 
mean  time,  Christ  will  rule  in  the  midst  of  his  enemies,  Ps.  ex.  3,  even  in 
the  midst  of  our  hearts. 

Use.  It  is  therefore  no  sign  of  a  good  condition  to  find  all  quiet,  and 
nothing  at  odds  ;  for  can  we  think  that  corruption,  which  is  the  elder  in 
us,  and  Satan,  the  strong  man  that  keepeth  many  holds  in  us,  will  yield 
possession  quietly  ?  No  ;  there  is  not  so  much  as  a  thought  of  goodness 
discovered  by  him,  but  he  joineth  with  corruption  to  kill  it  in  the  birth. 
And  as  Pharaoh's  cruelty  was  especially  against  the  male  children,  so 
Satan's  malice  is  especially  against  the  most  religious  and  manly  resolutions. 

This,  then,  we  are  always  to  expect,  that  wheresoever  Christ  cometh, 
there  will  be  opposition.  When  Christ  was  born,  all  Jerusalem  was 
troubled  ;  so  when  Christ  is  born  in  any  man,  the  soul  is  in  an  uproar,  and 
all  because  the  heart  is  unwilling  to  yield  up  itself  to  Christ  to  rule  it. 

Wheresoever  Christ  cometh  he  breedeth  division,  not  only,  1,  between 
man  and  himself;  but,  2,  between  man  and  man  ;  and  8,  between  church 
and  chui'ch  :  of  which  disturbance  Chi'ist  is  no  more  the  cause  than  physic 
is  of  trouble  in  a  distempered  body,  of  which  noisome  humours  are  the 
proper  cause  ;  for  the  end  of  physic  is  the  peace  of  humours.  But  Christ 
thinketh  it  fit  that  the  thoughts  of  men's  hearts  should  be  discovered, 
and  he  is  as  well  for  the  falling  as  the  rising  of  many  in  Israel,  Luke  ii.  34. 

Thus  the  desperate  madness  of  men  is  laid  open,  that  they  had  rather  be 
under  the  guidance  of  their  own  lusts,  and  by  consequence  of  Satan  himself, 
to  their  endless  destruction,  than  put  their  feet  into  Chi'ist's  fetters,  and 
their  necks  under  his  yoke  ;  whereas,  indeed,  Christ's  service  is  the  only 
true  liberty.  His  yoke  is  an  easy  yoke,  his  burden  but  as  the  burden  of 
wings  to  a  bird,  that  maketh  her  fly  the  higher.  Satan's  government  is 
rather  a  bondage  than  a  government,  unto  which  Chi'ist  giveth  up  those 
that  shake  off  his  own,  for  then  he  giveth  Satan  and  his  factors  power 
over  them,  since  they  will  not  '  receive  the  truth  in  love,'  2  Thess.  ii.  20  : 
take  him,  Jesuit,  take  him,  Satan,  blind  him  and  bind  him  and  lead  him  to 
perdition.  Those  that  take  the  most  liberty  to  sin  are  the  most  perfect 
slaves,  because  most  voluntary  slaves.  The  will  in  everything  is  either  the 
best  or  the  worst ;  the  further  men  go  on  in  a  wilful  com-se,  the  deeper 
they  sink  in  rebellion ;  and  the  more  they  cross  Christ,  doing  what  they  will, 
the  more  they  shall  one  day  suffer  what  they  would  not.  In  the  mean  time, 
they  are  prisoners  in  their  own  souls,  bound  over  in  their  consciences  to  the 
judgment  of  him  after  death,  whose  judgment  they  would  none  of  in  their 
lives.  And  is  it  not  equal  that  they  should  feel  him  a  severe  judge  to  con- 
demn them,  whom  they  would  not  have  a  mild  judge  to  rule  them  ? 

[Chaptee  XXVIII. — Be  encouraged  to  go  on  cheerfully,  with  confidence 
of  prevailing.] 

For  conclusion  and  general  application  of  all  that  hath  been  spoken,  unto 
ourselves.  We  see  the  conflicting,  but  yet  sure  and  hopeful  state  of  God's 
people.  The  victory  lieth  not  upon  us,  but  upon  Christ,  who  hath  taken 
upon  him,  as  to  conquer  for  us,  so  to  conquer  in  us.  The  victoiy  lieth 
neither  in  our  own  strength  to  get,  nor  in  oui*  enemies  to  defeat  it.  If  it 
lay  upon  us,  we  might  justly  fear.  But  Christ  will  maintain  his  own 
government  in  us,  and  take  our  part  against  our  corruptions  ;  they  are  his 
enemies  as  well  as  ours.  *  Let  us  therefore  be  strong  in  the  Lord,  and  in 
the  power  of  his  might,"  Eph.  vi.  10.    Let  us  not  look  so  much  who  ai-e  our 

VOL.  I.  G 


98  THE  BRUISED  REED 

enemies,  as  who  is  our  judge  and  captain,  nor  what  they  threaten,  but 
what  he  promiseth.  We  have  more  for  us  than  against  us.  What  coward 
would  not  fight  when  he  is  sure  of  victory  ?  None  are  here  overcome,  but 
he  that  will  not  fight.  Therefore,  when  any  base  fainting  seizeth  upon  us, 
let  us  lay  the  blame  where  it  is  to  be  laid. 

Discouragement*  rising  from  imbelief  and  ill  report,  brought  upon  the 
good  land  by  the  spies,  moved  God  to  swear  in  his  wrath,  that  they  should 
not  enter  into  his  rest.  Let  us  take  heed  a  spirit  of  faint-heartedness, 
rising  from  seeming  difficulty  and  disgrace,  cast  upon  God's  good  ways, 
provoke  not  God  to  keep  us  out  of  heaven.  We  see  here  what  we  may 
look  for  from  heaven.  0  beloved,  it  is  a  comfortable  thing  to  conceive  ot 
Christ  aright,  to  know  what  love,  mercy,  strength  we  have  laid  up  for  us  in 
the  breast  of  Christ.  A  good  conceit  of  the  physician,  we  say,  is  half  the 
cure ;  letf  us  make  use  of  this  his  mercy  and  power  every  day,  in  our  daily 
combats.  Lord  Jesus,  thou  hast  promised  not  to  quench  the  smoking  flax, 
not  to  break  the  bruised  reed  ;  cherish  thine  own  grace  in  me,  leave  me  not 
to  myself,  the  glory  shall  be  thine.  Let  us  not  sufier  Satan  to  transform 
Christ  unto  us,  to  be  otherwise  than  he  is  to  those  that  are  his.  Christ  will 
not  leave  us,  till  he  hath  made  us  like  himself,  '  aU  glorious  within  and 
without,  and  presented  us  blameless  before  his  Father,'  Jude  24.  What  a 
comfort  is  this  in  our  conflicts  with  our  unruly  hearts,  that  it  shall  not 
.  always  be  thus  !  Let  us  strive  a  little  while,  and  we  shall  be  happy  for  ever. 
Let  us  think  when  we  are  troubled  with  our  sins,  that  Chiist  hath  this  in 
charge  of  his  Father, '  that  he  shall  not  quench  the  smoking  flax,'  until  he  hath 
subdued  all.  This  putteth  a  shield  into  our  hands  to  beat  back  aU  '  the 
fiery  darts  of  Satan,'  Eph.  vi.  16.  He  will  object,  (1.)  thou  art  a  great 
sinner;  we  may  answer,  Christ  is  a  strong  Saviour ;  but  he  wiU  object,  (2.) 
thou  hast  no  faith,  no  love  ;  yes,  a  spark  of  faith  and  love  ;  but  (3.)  Christ 
will  not  regard  that;  yes,  'he  will  not  quench  the  smoking  flax;'  but  (4.)  this 
is  so  little  and  weak,  that  it  will  vanish  and  come  to  nought :  nay,  but 
Chiist  will  cherish  it,  until  he  hath  brought  judgment  to  victory.  And  thus 
much  for  our  comfort  we  have  already,  that  even  when  we  first  believed,  we 
overcame  God  himself,  as  it  were,  by  believing  the  pardon  of  all  our  sins ; 
notwithstanding  the  guilt  of  om-  own  consciences,  and  his  absolute  justice. 
Now  ha\'ing  been  prevailers  with  God,  what  shall  stand  against  us  if  we  can 
learn  to  make  use  of  our  faith  ? 

0  what  a  confusion  is  this  to  Satan,  that  he  should  labour  to  blow  out  a 
poor  spark,  and  yet  should  not  be  able  to  quench  it ;  that  a  grain  of  mustard 
seed  should  be  stronger  than  the  gates  of  hell ;  that  it  should  be  able  to  re- 
move mountains  of  oppositions  and  temptations  cast  up  by  Satan  and  our 
rebelKous  hearts  between  God  and  us.  Abimelech  could  not  endure  that  it 
should  be  said,  '  a  woman  had  slain  him,'  Jud.  ix.  54  ;  and  it  must  needs 
be  a  torment  to  Satan,  that  a  weak  child,  a  woman,  and  decrepit  old  man 
should,  by  a  spirit  of  faith,  put  him  to  flight. 

Since  there  is  such  comfort  where  there  is  a  little  truth  of  grace,  that  it  will 
be  so  victorious,  let  us  oft  try  what  God  hath  wrought  in  us,  search  our  good 
as  well  as  our  ill,  and  be  thankful  to  God  for  the  least  measure  of  grace, 
more  than  for  any  outward  thing ;  it  will  be  of  more  use  and  comfort  than 
all  this  world,  which  passeth  away  and  cometh  to  nothing.  Yea,  let  us  be 
thankful  for  that  promised  and  assured  victory,  which  we  may  rely  on  with- 
out presumption,  as  St  Paul  doth ;  '  thanks  be  to  God,  that  hath  given  us 

*  '  Discouragement  ....  heaven,'  added  in  B. 

t  '  Let  .  .      .  thine,'  a  transposution  of  A  and  B  here. 


AND  SMOKING  FLAX.  99 

victory  in  Jesus  Christ,'  1  Cor.  xv.  57.  See  a  flame  in  a  spark,  a  tree  in 
a  seed  ;  see  great  things  in  little  beginnings  ;  look  not  so  much  to  the  be- 
ginning, as  to  the  perfection,  and  so  we  shall  be  in  some  degree  joyful  in 
ourselves,  and  thankful  unto  Christ. 

Neither*  must  we  reason  from  a  denial  of  a  great  measure  of  grace,  to  a 
denial  of  any  at  all  in  us ;  for  faith  and  grace  stand  not  iu  an  indivisible 
point,  so  as  he  that  hath  not  such  and  such  a  measm-e  hath  none  at  all ;  but 
as  there  is  a  great  breadth  between  a  spark  and  a  flame,  so  there  is  a  great 
wideness  between  the  least  measure  of  grace  and  the  greatest ;  and  he  that 
hath  the  least  measure,  is  within  the  compass  of  God's  eternal  favour ; 
though  he  be  not  a  shining  light,  yet  he  is  a  smoking  wick,  which  Christ's 
tender  care  will  not  suffer  him  to  quench. 

And  let  all  this  that  hath  been  spoken  allure  those  that  are  not  yet 
in  state  of  grace,  to  come  under  Christ's  sweet  and  victorious  government, 
for  though  we  shall  have  much  opposition,  yet  if  we  strive,  he  will  help  us ; 
if  we  fail,  he  will  cherish  us  ;  if  we  be  guided  by  him,  we  shall  overcome  ; 
if  we  overcome,  we  are  sure  to  be  crowned.  And  for  the  present  state  of 
the  church,  we  see  now  how  forlorn  it  is,  yet  let  us  comfort  ourselves,  that 
Christ's  cause  shall  prevail;  '  Chiist  will  rule,  till  he  hath  made  his  enemies 
his  footstool,'  Ps.  ex.  1,  not  only  to  trample  upon,  but  to  help  him  up  to 
mount  higher  in  glory.  *  Babylon  shall  fall,  for  strong  is  the  Lord  who 
hath  condenmed  her,'  Rev.  xviii.  8.  Christ's  judgment  not  only  ia  his 
children,  but  also  against  his  enemies,  shall  be  victorious,  for  he  is  '  Kong 
of  kings  and  Lord  of  lords,'  Rev.  xix.  1.  God  will  not  alwaysf  suffer 
antichi'ist  and  his  supports  to  revel  and  rufile  in  the  church  as  they  do. 

If  we  look  to  the  present  state  of  the  church  of  Chiist,  it  is  as  Daniel  in 
the  midst  of  lions,  as  a  lily  amongst  thorns,  as  a  ship  not  only  tossed,  but 
almost  covered  with  waves.  It  is  so  low,  that  the  enemies  think  they  have 
buried  Christ,  in  regard  of  his  gospel,  in  the  grave,  and  there  they  think  to 
keep  him  from  rising ;  but  Chi'ist  as  he  rose  in  his  person,  so  he  will  roll 
away  all  stones,  and  rise  again  in  his  church.  How  little  support  hath  the 
church  and  cause  of  Christ  at  this  day !  how  strong  a  conspiracy  is  against 
it !  the  spirit  of  antichrist  is  now  lifted  up,  and  marcheth  furiously;  things 
seem  to  hang  on  a  small  and  invisible  thread.  But  our  comfort  is,  that 
Christ  liveth  and  reigneth  and  standeth  on  Mount  Sion  in  defence  of  them 
that  stand  for  him,  Rev.  xiv.  1  ;  and  when  States  and  kingdoms  shall  dash 
one  against  another,  Christ  will  have  care  of  his  own  children  and  cause, 
seeing  there  is  nothing  else  in  the  world  that  he  much  esteemeth.  At  this 
very  time  the  delivery  of  his  church,  and  the  ruin  of  his  enemies,  is  in  work- 
ing ;  we  see  no  things  in  motion  till  Christ  hath  done  his  work,  and  then 
we  shall  see  that  the  Lord  reigneth. 

Chiist  and  his  church,  when  they  are  at  the  lowest,  are  nearest  rising  : 
his  enemies  at  the  highest  are  nearest  a  downfall. 

The  Jews  are  not  yet  come  in  under  Christ's  banner  ;  but  God,  that  hath 
persuaded  Japhet  to  come  into  the  tents  of  Shem,  will  persuade  Shem  to 
come  into  the  tents  of  Japhet,  Gen.  ix.  27.  The  '  fulness  of  the  Gentiles 
is  not  yet  come  in,'  Rom.  xi.  25,  but  Christ,  that  hath  the  '  utmost  pai-ts  of 
the  earth  given  him  for  his  possession,'  Ps.  ii.  8,  will  gather  all  the  sheep 
his  Father  hath  given  him  into  one  fold,  that  there  may  be  one  sheepfold 
and  one  shepherd,  John  x.  16. 

The  faithful  Jews  rejoiced  to  think  of  the  calling  of  the  Gentiles ;  and 
why  should  not  we  joy  to  think  of  the  calling  of  the  Jews  ? 
•  *  Neither  .  .  .  quench,'  not  in  A,  B,  but  in  E.     t  '  Go'i  '^i^l  ^^ot,'  &c.,  added  in  B. 


IQO  THE  BRUISED  REED 

The  gospel's  course  hath  hitherto  been  as  that  of  the  sun,  from  east  to 
west,  and  so  in  God's  time  may  proceed  yet  fiuther  west  (i).  No  creature 
can  hinder  the  course  of  the  sun,  nor  stop  the  injfluence  of  heaven,  nor 
hinder  the  blowing  of  the  wind,  much  less  hinder  the  prevailing  power  of 
divine  truth,  until  Chi-ist  hath  brought  all  under  one  head,  and  then  he  will 
present  all  to  his  Father ;  these  are  they  thou  hast  given  unto  me ;  these 
are  they  that  have  taken  me  for  their  Lord  and  King,  that  have  suffered 
with  me ;  my  will  is  that  they  be  where  I  am,  and  reign  with  me.  And 
then  he  will  deliver  up  the  kingdom  even  to  his  Father,  and  put  dovra  all 
other  rule,  and  authority,  and  power,  1  Cor.  xv.  24. 

Let  us  then  bring  our  hearts  to  holy  resolutions,  and  set  ourselves  upon 
that  which  is  good,  and  against  that  which  is  ill,  in  ourselves  or  others,  ac- 
cording to  our  callings,  upon  this  encouragement,  that  Christ's  grace  and 
power  shall  go  along  with  us.  What  had  become  of  that  great  work  o ' 
reformation  of  religion  in  the  latter- spring  of  the  gospel,  if  men  had  not 
been  armed  with  invincible  courage  to  outstride  all  lets,  upon  this  faith, 
that  the  cause  was  Christ's,  and  that  he  would  not  be  wanting  to  his 
own  cause.  Luther  ingenuously  confessed,  that  he  carried  matters  often 
inconsiderately,  and  with  mixture  of  passion ;  but  upon  acknowledgment, 
God  took  not  advantage  of  his  errors,  but  the  cause  being  God's,  and  his 
aims  being  holy,  to  promote  the  truth,  and  being  a  mighty  man  in  prayer, 
and  strong  in  faith,  God  by  him  kindled  that  fire  which  all  the  world  shall 
never  be  able  to  quench.  Aceordmg  to  our  faith,  so  is  our  encouragement 
to  all  duties,  therefore  let  us  strengthen  faith,  that  it  may  strengthen  aU 
other  graces.  This  very  belief,  that  faith  shall  be  victorious,  is  a  means  to 
make  it  so  indeed.  Believe  it,  therefore,  that  though  it  be  often  as  smok- 
ing flax,  yet  it  shall  prevail.  If  it  prevail  with  God  himself  in  trials,  shall 
it  not  prevail  over  aU  other  opposition  ?  '  Let  us  wait  a  while,  and  we  shall 
see  the  salvation  of  the  Lord,'  Exod.  iv.  13. 

The  Lord  reveal  himself  more  and  more  unto  us  in  the  face  of  his  Son 
Jesus  Chi'ist.  and  magnify  the  power  of  his  grace  in  cherishing  those  be- 
ginnings of  grace  in  the  midst  of  our  corruptions,  and  sanctify  the  conside- 
ration of  our  own  infirmities  to  humble  us,  and  of  his  tender  mercy  to 
encourage  us ;  and  persuade  us,  that  since  he  hath  taken  us  into  the 
covenant  of  grace,  he  wiU  not  cast  us  off  for  those  coiTuptions  ;  which  as 
they  gi-ieve  his  Spirit,  so  they  make  us  vile  in  om'  own  eyes.  And  because 
Satan  labours  to  obscure  the  glory  of  his  mercy,  and  hinder  our  comfort  by 
discouragements,  the  Lord  add  this  to  the  rest  of  his  mercies,  that,  since  he 
is  so  gracious  to  those  that  yield  to  his  government,  we  may  make  the  right 
use  of  this  grace,  and  not  lose  any  portion  of  comfort  that  is  laid  up  for  us  in 
Christ.  And  [may]  he  vouchsafe  to  let  the  prevailing  power  of  his  Spirit  in 
us  be  an  evidence  of  the  truth  of  grace  begun,  and  a  pledge  of  final  victory,  at 
that  time  when  he  will  be  all  in  all,  in  all  his,  for  aU  eternity.    Amen.    Finis.* 

*  Added  here  to  G  is  the  following  couplet : — 

Quassata  (Lector)  quid  arundine  vilius,  aut  te  ? 

At  non  frangeris,  si  pius,  Unctus  ait-—  6.  J. 

It  may  be  thus  rendered  : 

Than  shaken  reed  what  can  more  worthless  be  ? 
Eeader.  just  such  thou  art : 

But  hast  thou  faith  ? 
Then  take  good  heart ; 
The  Anointed  saith, 
Nor  it  nor  thou  by  him  shall  broken  be. 
The  initials  are  probably  those  of  John  Goodwin  reversed.  O 


AND  SMOKING  FLAX.  IQl 


NOTES. 

(a)  P.  49. — '  Stooped  so  far  ...  .  as  to  suffer  him  to  thrust  his  hand  into  his  side.' 
It  is  questionable  if  Thomas  really  did  this.  His  early  faith  recovered  itself  in  pre- 
sence of  the  Lord,  and  the  narrative  seems  rather  to  indicate  that  he  did  not  avail 
himself  of  the  tenderly-forgiving  offer  of  his  Master.  See  Archbishop  Whately's 
lecture  on  the  apostle  Thomas  in  his  Lectures  on  the  Apostles,  (2d  ed.  1853). 

(b)  P.  53. — '  Strain  not  things  too  high,  making  those  general  and  necessary  evi- 
dences of  grace  which  agree  not,'  &c.  This  characteristically  gentle  warning  reminda 
us  of  an  anecdote  of  the  excellent  Ebenezer  Erskine,  one  of  the  founders  of  what  is  now 
the  United  Presbyterian  Church.  He  had  been  delivering  a  course  of  sermons  on 
'  Marks  oi  Grace,'  and  had  spent  much  time  in  shewing  how  many  things  men  might 
possess  and  nevertheless  be  '  hypocrites.'  Chancing  some  time  after  to  be  on  a  visit  to  a 
very  saintly  but  lowly  '  aged  '  believer,  who  was  apparently  dying,  the  good  man 
was  startled  by  an  exclamation,  '  Oh !  Mr  Erskine,  if  I  were  just  as  good  as  one  of 

your hypocrites,  I  would  be  happy.'     The  words  struck  home,  and  Erskine  was 

wont  to  tell  it,  and  to  add  that  the  remark  opened  his  eyes  to  the  danger  by  over-high 
'  marks  '  of  causing  God's  own  dearest  children  to  '  write  bitter  things  against  them- 
selves '  without  cause.  This  anecdote,  related  by  one  whose  grandfather  attended 
Mr  Erskine  at  Stirling,  strikingly  enforces  Sibbes's  counsel. 

(cj  P.  55 — '  Kill  a  fly  on  the  forehead  with  a  beetle.'  '  Beetle  '  =  mallet.  In 
the  margin  opposite  the  passage  in  A,  B,  and  E,  is  '  As  Parisien.'  Query,  Peter 
Lombard  ? 

(d)  P.  67. — '  Let '  [=  hinder].  Few  words  present  such  a  curious  example  of  uttei 
reversal  of  meaning  as  this.  Formerly  to  let  was  to  '  hinder,'  now  it  means  to 
'permit.'  It  occurs  in  the  former  sense  both  in  0.  T.  and  N.  T.,  e.  g.,  Isa.  xliii.  13 
and  Rom.  i.  13  ;  2  Thess.  ii.  7.     It  is  here  referred  to  once  for  all.  *      ' 

(e)  P.  68.—'  Catch  '  =  on  the  watch.  This  supplies  Eichardson's  lack  (in  hia 
great  Dictionary),  of  an  example  of  '  catch '  in  the  meaning  here. 

(f)  P-  85.—'  Voyage '  =  a  travel,  a  journey ;  but  now  limited  to  travel  by  sea. 
Milton  uses  it  repeatedly  in  the  earlier  sense.  See  P.  L  ,  ii.,  426,  919;  vii.  431 
P.  R.  i.,  103. 

(g)  P-  86. — '  Sobs.'  To  'sob'  means  to  'sop  '  or  'soak,'  and  'sobs,'  as  applied 
to  kindled  '  greenwood,'  is  vividly  descriptive. 

(h)  P.  96. — '  Send  forth  hath  a  stronger  sense  in  the  original.'  Consult  and 
compare  Dr  J.  A.  Alexander  on  the  passage  in  his  commentary  on  Isaiah  (ed  by 
Eadie,  1848). 

(i)  P.  100.—'  The  gospel's  course  hath  hitherto  been  as  that  of  the  sun,  from 
east  to  west,  and  so  in  (iod's  time  may  proceed  further  west.'  This  remarkable  an- 
ticipation may  be  placed  side  by  side  with  the  better  known  but  much  later  ^  •  ■■ 
admittedly  grander,  vaticination  of  Berkeley  : — 

'  Westioard  the  course  of  empire  takes  its  way  ; 

The  four  first  acts  already  past, 
A  fifth  shall  close  the  drama  with  the  day  ; 
Time's  noblest  ofl'spring  is  the  last. 
The  '  Priest '  of  Bemerton,  George  Herbert,  may  have  had  his  equally  memorable 
couplet  suggested   by  Sibbes's  words,  the  '  Bruised  Reed '  having  preceded  '  TV. 
Temple  '  by  three  years  : — 

•  Religion  stands  a-tiptoe  in  our  land, 
Ready  to  pass  to  the  American  strand.' 

Church  Millitant. 
Sibbes  and  his  Puritan  contemporaries  turned  witli  wistful  eye  to  '  New  England 
and  read  in  the  light  of  the  present  position  of  America  among  the  nations  of  the 
earth,  it  is  curious  to  note  the  mingled  hope  and  dread  with  which  the  mi^^hty  un- 
known continent  was  regarded.  John  Cotton,  John  Davenport,  Thomas  Hooker,  and 
many  other  of  Sibbes's  personal  friends,  became  fugitives  thither.  For  various 
curious  memorabilia  on  the  subject  of  this  note  (Sibbes's  being  an  addition  theretoV 
consult  Mayor's  Nicholas  Ferrar,  pp.  52-3.  q 


THE  SWORD  01  THE  WICEED. 


THE  SWORD  OF  THE  WICKED. 


NOTE. 

The  title-page,  a  copy  of  which  is  given  below  [*],  will,  as  in  the  case  of  '  The 
Description  of  Christ,'  in  its  relation  to  'The  Bruised  Reed,'  explain  the  position  of 
'  The  Sword  of  the  Wicked  '  in  the  present  publication.  It  will  be  observed  that  it 
consists  of  the  leading,  i.e.,  introductory  sermons  to  that  treatise,  called  '  The  Soule's 
Conflict.'  As  such,  it  falls  to  be  associated  therewith.  The  '  Sword  of  the  Wicked  ' 
forms  a  small  portion  of  one  of  the  posthumously-published  quartos  of  Sibbes, 
entitled  '  Evangelicall  Sacrifices  '  [1640].  It  labours  under  the  same  disadvantage 
with  the  '  Description,'  as  compared  with  its  companion  treatise,  the  '  Soul's  Con- 
flict,' being  even  more  unfinished ;  but  abounds  with  pungent  and  vigorous  writing. 

G. 
[*]  Title-page— 

The 

SWOED 

of 

THE   WICKED. 

In  two  Sermons. 

Being  the  leading  Sermons  to  that  Treatise 

called 

The  Soules  Conflict. 

By 

The  late  Learned  and  Reverend  JUivme, 

Rich.  Sibbs  : 

Doctor  in  Divinity,. Mr  of  Katherine  Hal 

in  Cambridge,  and  sometimes  Preacher 

to  the  Honourable  Society  of 

Grayes-Inne. 

Psal.  57.  4. 

Their  Tongue  is  a  sharpe  Sword. 

London, 

Printed  by  E.  P.  for  N.  B.  and  E.  H.     1639.    4u). 


THE  SWORD  OF  THE  WICKED. 


As  with  a  sword  in  my  bones,  mine  enemies  reproach  me  ;  while  they  say  unto 
me  daily,  Where  is  thy  God  ? — Psai-m  XLII.  10. 

The  Psalms  are,  as  it  were,  the  anatomy  of  a  holy  man ;  they  lay  the 
inside  of  a  true  devout  man  outward,  even  to  the  view  of  others. 

If  the  Scriptures  be  compared  to  a  body,  the  Psalms  may  well  be  the 
heart,  they  are  so  full  of  sweet  and  holy  affections  and  passions.  In  other 
portions  of  Scripture,  God  speaks  to  us ;  in  the  Psalms,  holy  men  (especially 
Pavid,  who  was  the  penman  of  most  of  them),  speak  to  God,  wherein  we 
have  the  passages  of  a  broken,  humble  soul  to  God.  Among  the  rest,  in 
this  Psalm  David  lays  open  variety  of  passions.  His  condition  at  this  time 
was  such,  as  that  he  was  an  exiled  man,  from  his  own  house  and  his  own 
friends,  and  which  grieved  him  worst  of  aU,  from  the  tabernacle,  the  house 
of  God.  It  was  upon  the  occasion  of  Saul's  persecution,  or  of  Absalom's, 
his  son ;  but  I  take  it  rather  of  Saul's,  that  hunted  him  as  a  partridge  in  the 
wilderness.  Hereupon  you  have  a  discovery,  how  this  holy  man  of  God 
stood  affected  with  this  case  and  condition  of  his.  First  he  lays  open  his 
grief.  His  grief  ariseth  from  his  desire.  He  that  loves  most  and  desireth 
most,  he  always  grieves  most ;  and  all  other  affections  have  their  scantUng  (a) 
from  love,  which  is  the  firstborn  affection  of  the  soul.  Therefore,  before 
he  lays  out  his  grief,  he  sets  out  his  desire  to  the  house  of  God,  the  want 
whereof  grieved  him  most  of  all.  *  As  the  hart  panteth  after  the  water 
brooks,  so  panteth  my  soul  after  thee,  0  God,'  ver.  1.  As  the  chased  hart 
panteth  after  water,  so  the  soul  thirsteth  for  God,  for  the  living  God,  '  0 
when  shall  I  come  and  appear  before  God  ?'  ver.  2.* 

Then  after  his  desire,  he  lays  forth  his  grief,  '  My  tears  have  been  my 
meat  day  and  night,  while  they  continually  say  unto  me.  Where  is  thy  God  ?' 
ver.  3.  Grievances  never  come  alone,  but  as  Job's  messengers,  they  come 
one  after  another,  even  to  God's  children.  When  he  is  disposed  to  correct 
them,  they  are  multipHed.  Therefore,  here  is  not  only  a  grief  of  want,  that 
he  was  debarred  of  those  sweet  comforts  which  he  had  before  in  the  taber- 
nacle, but  here  is  likewise  a  grief  from  the  reproach  of  his  enemies,  that 
took  occasion  from  his  disconsolate  estate  to  upbraid  him,  *  Where  is  thy 

*  This  openinq:  paragraph  is  very  nearly  identical  with  the  commencement  of  tho 
'  Soul's  Conflict.'— G. 


106  THE  SWORD  OF  THE  WICKED. 

God  ?  '  My  tears  have  been  my  meat  day  and  night,  while  they  conti- 
mially  say  unto  me,  Where  is  thy  God  ?'  He  dissolves  the  cloud  of  his 
gi-ief  into  the  shower  of  tears,  '  My  tears  have  been  my  meat.'  They  were 
BO  plentiful  that  they  did  feed  his  soul  as  it  were. 

Then  he  sets  down  another  ground  of  his  grief,  from  the  remembrance  of 
his  former  happiness  ;  as  usually,  that  doth  make  the  grief  raw  and  more 
sensible,  iov  felix  viiser,  maxhne  miser,  he  that  hath  been  happy  in  former 
time  and  now  is  miserable,  is  most  miserable  of  all,  because  his  former 
happiness  makes  him  most  sensible.  Therefore,  of  all  men  in  hell,  the 
torment  of  great  men  is  most,  because  they  had  most  sense  of  comfort  in 
this  world ;  mighty  men  shall  be  mightily  tormented,  that  is  all  the  pri- 
vilege they  shall  have  in  hell.  Therefore,  to  aggravate  his  grief,  0,  saith 
he,  when  I  remember  what  comfort  I  had  formerly  in  the  house  of  God,  I 
pour  out  my  soul.  It  was  not  enough  that  he  poured  out  his  tears,  or 
words,  but  I  pour  out  my  soul,  for  in  former  times,  *  I  went  with  the  mul- 
titude to  the  house  of  God,'  ver.  4,  and  led  a  goodly  train  to  the  house  of 
God,  the  picture  of  a  good  magistrate,  and  a  good  master  of  a  family ;  he 
goes  not  alone  to  the  house  of  God,  but  he  leads  his  train,  he  is  attended 
on  by  his  servants.  David  went  not  alone  '.nto  the  house  of  God,  but  with 
the  multitude,  '  with  the  voice  of  them  that  kept  holiday,'  ver.  4.  Well, 
he  had  grief  enough,  his  heart  was  full  of  grief.  Now  in  the  next  verse  he 
takes  up  his  soul,  and  expostulates  with  himself,  '  Why  art  thou  so  sad,  0 
my  soul  ?  and  why  art  thou  disquieted  in  me  ?  hope  thou  in  God,  for  I  shall 
yet  praise  him  for  the  help  of  his  countenance,'  ver.  5.  So  you  see  here, 
he  is  not  so  flat  in  his  grief  that  he  gives  over-long  way  to  it,  but  he  even 
falls  a  chiding  of  his  soul,  '  Why  art  thou  east  down,  0  my  soul  ?  why  art 
thou  disquieted  within  me  ?'  0  !  but  yet  grief  will  not  be  so  stilled  ! 
affliction  is  not  quelled  at  the  first,  nor  grief  stilled  and  stayed  at  the  first. 
Therefore  it  gathers  upon  him  again  in  the  next  verse,  '  0  my  God,  my  soul 
is  cast  down  within  me,  when  I  remember  thee  from  the  land  of  Jordan, 
and  of  the  Hermonites,  from  the  hill  Mizar.'  When  I  remember  thee  from 
these  places,  my  soul  is  cast  down  again,  and  my  afflictions  are  multiplied  ; 
though  he  had  fallen  out  with  his  soul  before,  for  his  impatience.  *  One  deep 
calls  to  another,'  deep  calls  upon  deep,  '  as  the  noise  of  the  water- spouts,' 
ver,  7.  He  compares  affliction  to  water-spouts,  as  it  is  in  Scripture.  *  All 
thy  waves  and  biUows  have  gone  over  me,'  ver.  7.  Even  as  one  deep  calls 
to  another,  so  one  affliction  calls  to  another.  Then  when  he  had  given  a 
Httle  way  again  to  his  gi'ief,  and  complained  to  God,  he  takes  up  his  soul 
another  time  ;  yet,  saith  he,  '  The  Lord  will  command  his  lovingkindness 
in  the  day  time,  and  in  the  night  his  song  shall  be  with  me,  and  I  will  pray 
to  the  God  of  my  life,'  ver.  8.  He  presents  to  himself  the  goodness  of 
God,  to  comfort  his  soul.  And  he  presents  to  him  in  the  next  verse  his 
own  resolution,  '  I  will  say  to  God  (for  the  time  to  come)  my  rock,  why 
hast  thou  forgotten  me  ?  and  why  go  I  mourning,  for  the  oppression  of  the 
enemy,'  ver.  9.  So  here  he  stays  his  soul  once  again  ;  he  presents  to  his 
soul  the  lovingkindness  of  God,  with  renewing  his  resolution  to  seek  God  : 
an  effectual  way  to  stay  the  soul,  by  considering  God's  love  and  mercy,  and 
by  renewing  our  resolutions  and  purposes  to  cleave  to  God,  '  I  will  say  to 
God  my  rock,  why  hast  thou  forgotten  me  ?' 

Aye,  but  here  is  a  third  assault  of  grief  again,  for  there  is  a  spring  of 
corruption  in  us,  and  such  a  principle  in  us  as  will  yield  murmurings  and 
discontent  again  and  again  ;  therefore  in  the  verse  I  have  read  to  you,  he 
comes  again  to  complain,  '  As  with  a  sword  in  my  bones,  mine  enemies 


THE  SWORD  OF  THE  WICKED.  107 

reproach  me ;  while  they  say  unto  me  daily,  Where  is  thy  God  ?'  ver.  10. 
He  had  complained  once  of  this  before,  but  it  had  a  fi-esh  working  with  his 
thoughts  again,  *  As  with  a  sword  in  my  bones,'  &c.  Hereupon,  he  is 
forced  the  third  time  to  expostulate,  and  to  fall  out  with  his  soul,  '  Why 
art  thou  cast  down,  0  my  soul  ?  and  why  art  thou  disquieted  ?  hope  thou 
in  God,  for  I  shall  yet  praise  him,  who  is  the  health  of  my  countenance, 
and  my  God,'  ver.  11.  He  comes  to  his  former  remedy,  he  had  stilled  his 
grief  once  before  with  the  same  meditation  and  upbraiding  ofhis  own  soul, 
and  chiding  himself ;  but  he  comes  to  it  here  as  a  probatum  est,  as  a  tried 
remedy,  he  takes  up  his  soul  very  short,  '  Why  art  thou  so  cast  down,  0 
my  soul  ?  why  art  thou  disquieted  within  me  ?'  You  see  how  David's 
passions  here  are  interlaced  with  comforts,  and  his  comforts  with  passions, 
till  at  last  he  gets  the  victory  of  his  own  heart.  Beloved,  neither  sin,  nor 
grief  for  sin,  are  stilled  and  quieted  at  the  first.  You  have  some  short- 
spu'ited  Christians,  if  all  be  not  quiet  at  the  first,  all  is  lost  with  them  ;  but 
it  is  not  so  with  a  true  Christian  soul,  with  the  best  soul  Uving.  It  wag 
not  so  with  David  :  when  he  was  in  distemper,  he  checks  himself ;  the  dis- 
temper was  not  yet  stilled,  he  checks  himseK  again ;  then  the  distemper 
breaks  out  again,  then  he  checks  himself  again  ;  and  all  Uttle  enough  to 
bring  his  soul  to  a  holy,  blessed,  quiet  temper,  to  that  blessed  tranquillity 
and  rest  that  the  soul  should  be  in,  before  it  can  enjoy  its  own  happiness, 
and  enjoy  sweet  communion  with  God.  As  you  see  in  physic,  perhaps  one 
purge  will  not  carry  away  the  peccant  humour,  then  a  second  must  be 
added ;  perhaps  that  will  not  do  it,  then  there  must  be  a  third  ;  so  when 
the  soul  hath  been  once  checked,  perhaps  it  will  not  do,  we  must  fall  to  it 
again,  go  to  God  again.  And  then  it  may  be  there  will  be  breaking  out  of 
the  grief  and  malady  again  ;  we  must  to  it  again,  and  never  give  over ;  that 
is  the  right  temper  of  a  Christian. 

Before  I  come  to  the  words,  observe  in  general  this,  that  a  living  soul,  the 
soul  that  is  alive  in  grace,  that  hath  the  life  of  grace  quickening  it,  is  most 
sensible  of  all,  in  the  want  of  spiritual  means.  As  here,  the  grief  of  griefs 
was  (which  he  begins  with),  that  he  was  banished  from  the  tabernacle. 

What  shall  we  think  therefore  of  those  that  excommunicate  themselves 
from  God's  assembly,  where  there  is  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  all 
the  Trinity  dispensing  their  bounty,  and  where  the  prayers  of  God's  people 
meet  together  in  one  as  it  were,  and  bind  God  ?  What  shall  we  think  of 
them  that  prefer  their  private  devotions,  as  they  say,  before  God's  assem- 
blies ?  Surely  they  are  not  of  David's  mind ;  and  it  is  a  shrewd  argument, 
that  they  never  had  the  life  of  grace  in  them  yet :  for  where  life  is,  there 
wUl  be  hunger  and  thirst.  Acrivs  urgent  quce  ad  naturam.  It  is  a  true 
aphorism,  those  things  press  upon  nature  hardest  that  touch  upon  the  neces- 
sities of  nature,  rather  than  those  that  touch  upon  delight.  We  can  want  de- 
Hghts,  but  necessities  of  nature  we  cannot ;  therefore  hunger  and  thirst,  they 
are  such  passions  as  will  not  be  quiet.  DeHcacies  and  novelties  the  soul  of  a 
hungry  man  can  be  content  to  want,  but  not  spiritual  food  for  the  soul.  We 
see  how  famine  wrought  upon  the  patriarchs,  it  made  them  go  down  into  Egypt 
for  food.  I  note  it  only  by  the  way,  that  men  may  know  how  to  judge  of 
themselves,  when  they  can  very  weU  be  content,  without  a  blessed  supply  of 
holy  means.  Holy  David,  when  the  means  was  but  dark  and  obscure,  when 
the  canon  was  not  enlarged,  when  all  was  in  types  and  clouds,  yet  he  felt 
that  comfort  in  the  tabernacle  and  in  the  ordinances  of  God,  that  he  could 
not  endure  the  want  of  them  ;  but  as  the  hart  brayeth  after  the  water- 
brooks,  so  his  soul  panted  after  God.     But  to  come  to  the  words  themselves, 


108  THE  SWORD  OF  THE  WICKED. 

'  As  with  a  sword  in  my  bones,  miae  enemies  reproach  me,  when  they  say 
unto  me  daily,  where  is  thy  God  ?' 
.  Here  are  two  things  considerable  in  the  words. 

The  carriage  and  disposition  and  expression  of  others  to  David. 

And  David's  affection  towards  it,  how  he  was  disposed  towards  it,  how  he 
did  bear  it. 

For  their  disposition,  they  were  enemies,  mine  enemies,  do. 

The  expression  of  it,  theij  reproach  me. 

The  specialty  of  that  expression,  how  they  reproached  him,  they  said 
unto  him,  '  Where  is  thy  God  V     They  do  reproach  him  in  his  religion. 

The  aggravation  of  that  specialty  is,  they  say,  openly  to  his  face,  they 
go  not  behind  my  back,  they  esteem  so  sUghtly  of  me,  they  say  it  to  my  face. 
And  continually  too,  they  are  never  weary,  they  say  daily.  Where  is  thy 
God  ?  They  are  enemies,  they  reproach,  they  reproach  in  this,  '  Where  is 
thy  God  ?'  and  they  do  it  impudently,  and  daily. 

How  doth  David  entertain  this  usage  ?  how  doth  he  carry  himself  all  this 
while  ?  He  must  needs  be  sensible  of  it,  and  therefore  he  expresseth  it  in 
most  significant  words.  Oh,  saith  he,  these  things  were  as  a  sword  in  my 
bones.  There  be  diverse  readings  of  the  words  ;  but  we  will  take  them  as 
they  are  laid  down,  being  very  well,  as  with  a  sivord  in  my  bones  (or  as  it  is 
in  the  margin,  (h)  as  killing  in  my  bones),  mine  enemies  reproach  me.  It  was 
as  killing  to  him,  it  did  go  to  his  heart,  it  cut  him  to  the  quick.  As  a  sword 
is  to  the  body  and  bones,  so  are  their  words  to  my  soul,  I  cannot  endure  it, 
it  is  death  to  me.  It  is  a  most  emphatical  manner  of  expressing  the  enemies' 
disposition  and  carriage.  Thus  you  have  the  words  unfolded.  I  will  but 
touch  some  particulars  ;  those  that  I  think  most  needful  for  us  to  take  notice 
of,  I  will  dwell  more  upon.     Mine  enemies,  saith  he,  reproach  me. 

Mine  enemies.  There  hath  been  contrary  seeds  from  the  beginning  of 
the  world,  and  wiU  be  while  Satan  is  in  the  world.  Till  he  be  cast  into  the 
'  burning  lake,'  and  be  there  in  perpetual  chains  adjudged  to  torment,  he  wiU 
raise  up  men  alway  that  shall  be  of  his  side.  And  as  long  as  that  grand 
enemy  is,  and  as  long  as  men  are  that  wiU  be  subject  to  his  government,  as 
alway  there  will  be,  he  will  have  a  great  faction  in  the  world.  And  by 
reason  that  he  hath  a  party  in  us,  the  flesh,  he  will  have  the  greatest  party 
in  the  world.  The  most  go  the  broad  way,  so  that  God's  children,  even 
David  himself,  shall  not  ivant  enemies. 

Mine  enemies.  It  is  strange  that  he  should  have  enemies,  that  was  so 
harmless  a  man,  that  when  they  were  sick  and  distressed,  he  prayed  for 
them,  and  put  on  sackcloth  for  them,  as  it  is  Ps.  xh.  This  compassionate, 
sweet-natured  man,  yet  notwithstanding  you  see  he  had  enemies,  and 
enemies  that  would  discover  themselves  to  reproach  him,  and  that  bitterly  ; 
in  the  bitterest  manner,  they  reproach  him  in  his  religion.  It  is  a  large 
point,  if  I  should  give  myself  hberty  in  it.  I  do  but  touch  it,  that  we  may 
be  armed  by  this  observation,  against  the  scandal  of  opposition,  that  if  we 
meet  with  enemies  in  the  world,  we  should  not  be  much  offended  at  it ; 
grieve  we  may,  but  wonder  we  need  not.  Was  there  ever  any  that  did  more 
good  than  our  Saviour  Christ  ?  '  He  went  about  doing  good,'  Acts  x.  38. 
He  did  never  a  mnacle  that  was  harmful  (but  only  of  the  swine  that  were 
drowned  in  the  sea,  and  that  was  their  own  fault),  but  he  went  about 
doing  all  the  good  he  could  ;  yet,  notwithstanding,  we  see  what  malicious 
opposites  he  had.  That  that  is  true  of  the  head  must  be  true  in  the  mem- 
bers. Therefore,  we  should  rejoice  in  our  conformity  to  Christ,  if  it 
be  in  a  good  cause,   that  we  find  enemies   and  opposition.     O  imperator, 


THE  SWOED  OF  THE  WICKED,  '        109 

dc,  Zaith  he,  0  the  emperor  is  become  a  Christian.  It  was  a  blessed 
time.  Oh  !  but  the  devil  is  not  made  a  Christian  yet,  and  he  will  never 
be  made  good  :  for  he  is  in  tennino,  as  we  say,  he  is  in  his  bounds,  his 
nature  is  immoveable  ;  he  is  in  hell  in  regard  of  his  estate,  though  he  be 
loose  to  do  mischief.  Now,  until  the  devil  be  good,  God's  children  shall 
never  want  enemies  ;  and  he  will  never  be  good.  Therefore,  though  there 
were  good  kings  and  good  governors  over  all  the  world,  yet  good  men  shall 
never  want  enemies  as  long  as  the  de\dl  is  alive,  as  long  as  he  hath  any 
thing  to  do  in  the  world.  Enemies  therefore  we  must  look  for,  and  such 
enemies  as  will  not  conceal  their  malice  neither :  for  that  were  something 
if  they  would  suffer  their  malice  to  boil  and  concoct  in  their  own  hearts,  but 
that  will  not  be,  but '  out  of  the  abimdance  of  the  heart  the  mouth  wall  speak.' 
"Where  there  is  a  bad  treasury,  there  wiU  be  a  bad  vent ;  *  therefore  we  see 
here,  they  reproach  him,  '  mine  enemies.'' 

Reproach  me.  It  is  the  proper  expression  of  malice,  reproach  ;  and  it  is 
that  that  the  nature  of  man  can  least  endure  of  all.  The  natm-e  of  man  can 
endui-e  an  outward  wrong,  a  loss  or  a  cross,  but  a  reproach,  especially  if  it 
be  a  scornful  reproach,  the  nature  of  man  is  most  impatient  of.  For  there 
is  no  man,  but  he  thinks  himself  worthy  of  some  respect.  Now  a  reproach- 
ful scorn  shews  a  disrespect,  and  when  the  natm*e  of  man  sees  itself  disre- 
spected, it  grows  to  terms  of  impatience.  There  is  not  the  meanest  man 
Uving  but  he  thinks  himself  worthy  of  some  regard.  Therefore  I  cannot 
blame  David,  even  out  of  the  principle  of  nature,  to  be  affected  here  when 
they  reproached  him,  and  gave  him  vile  terms,  '  mine  enemies  reproach  me.' 
Their  tongues  were  tipt  fi'om  hell,  and  they  did  but  utter  that  that  was  in 
their  hearts.  K  the  tongues  of  wicked  men,  as  St  James  saith,  be  a  world 
of  mischief,  what  is  the  whole  man  ?  what  is  the  heart,  and  tongue,  and 
life,  and  all  of  vsdcked  men  ? 

Now  this  reproach  of  wicked  men,  it  is  a  grievous  persecution,  as  Ishmael 
persecuted  Isaac  in  that  manner,  as  it  is.  Gal.  iv.,  taken  out  of  the  story  in 
Genesis.  I  will  not  enter  into  the  commonplace  of  reproach ;  it  is  taken 
by  the  by  here. 

Only  by  the  way,  let  it  be  a  support  to  us.  If  we  be  reproachfully  used 
in  the  world,  let  us  not  be  much  cast  down.  It  is  no  credit  for  a  man  to 
do  that  that  the  devil  and  his  instruments  do  ;  nor  it  is  no  discredit  for  us 
to  suffer  that  that  David  suffered.  Let  this  satisfy  thee,  there  is  not  the 
vilest  man  living  but  hath  this  weapon  to  serve  the  devil  with,  a  reproachful 
tongue.  He  that  sits  upon  the  ale  bench,  that  rakes  in  the  channel,!  the 
basest  wretch  in  the  world,  hath  a  tongue  to  serve  the  devil  with  in  re- 
proaches. It  is  no  credit  for  them  to  do  that  that  the  vilest  person  in  the 
world  can  do  ;  and  it  is  no  shame  for  thee  to  suffer  that  that  the  best  man 
that  ever  lived  did  suffer.     So  much  for  that,  mine  enemies  reproach  me. 

But  what  is  the  specialty  of  this  reproach  ?  To  come  to  that  more 
particularly.     They  say  unto  me.  Where  is  thy  God  ? 

They  touch  him  in  his  reUgion.  They  saw  him  persecuted  by  Saul, 
scorned  by  Saul's  courtiers;  they  see  him  driven  up  and  down,  as  a  partridge 
in  the  wilderness  ;  they  saw  him  banished  from  the  sanctuary,  destitute  of 
fi'iends  ;  they  saw  him  in  this  disconsolate  estate,  and  they  judge  by  sense 
and  appearance,  that  they  thought  he  was  a  man  that  God  regarded  not  at 
all :  therefore  say  they.  Where  is  thy  God  ? 

God's  children  axe  impatient,  as  far  as  they  are  men,  of  reproaches ;  but 
so  far  as  they  are  Christian  men,  they  are  impatient  of  reproaches  in  reli- 
*  That  is,  '  out-goiug.' — Ed.  f  That  is,  '  the  kennel'  or  sewer. — Ed. 


110  THE  SWOED  OF  THE  WICKED. 

gion  :  Where  is  noiv  thy  God  ?  They  were  not  such  desperate  atheists  as  to 
think  there  was  no  God,  to  call  in  question  whether  there  were  a  God  or  no, 
though  indeed  they  were  little  better ;  but  they  rather  reproach  and  up- 
braid him  with  his  singularity,  Where  is  thy  God  ?  You  are  one  of  God's 
darlings  ;  you  are  one  that  thought  nobody  served  God  but  you ;  you  are 
one  that  will  go  alone — your  God. 

So  this  is  an  ordinary  reproach,  an  ordinary  part  for  wicked  men,  to  cast 
at  the  best  people,  especially  when  they  are  in  misery.  What  is  become  of 
your  profession  now  ?  What  is  become  of  your  forwardness  and  strictness 
now  ?  What  is  become  of  your  much  reading  and  hearing  now  ;  and  your 
doing  such  things  now  ?  What  is  become  of  your  God  that  you  bragged 
so  of,  and  thought  yourselves  so  happy  in,  as  if  he  had  been  nobody's  God 
but  yours  ?  We  may  learn  hence  the  disposition  of  wicked  men.  It  is  a 
character  of  a  poisonful,  cursed  disposition  to  upbraid  a  man  with  his  religion. 

But  what  is  the  scope  ?  The  scope  is  worse  than  the  words,  Where  is  thy 
God  ?  The  scope  is  to  shake  his  faith,  and  his  confidence  in  God  ;  and 
this  is  that  that  touched  him  so  nearlywhile  they  upbraided  h.im.,Whereisthy 
God  /  Indeed,  they  had  some  probability  and  show  of  truth  ;  for  now  God 
seemed  opposite  to  him,  when  he  was  banished  from  his  house,  from  that 
blessed  communion  with  him  that  he  had.  Their  purpose  was  therefore  to 
shake  his  faith  and  affiance  in  God ;  and  herein  they  shewed  themselves 
right,  the  children  of  the  devil,  whose  scope  is  to  shake  the  faith  and  affiance 
of  God's  people,  in  all  his  temptations,  and  by  his  instruments.  For  the 
devil  knows  well  enough,  that  as  long  as  God  and  the  soul  join  together,  it 
is  in  vain  to  trouble  any  man  ;  therefore  he  labours  to  put  jealousies,  to 
accuse  God  to  man,  and  man  to  God.  He  knows  there  is  nothing  in  the 
world  can  stand  against  God.  As  long  as  we  make  God  our  confidence,  all 
his  enterprises  are  in  vain.  His  scope  is  therefore  to  shake  our  affiance  in 
God  :  Where  is  thy  God  ?  So  he  dealt  with  the  Head  of  the  church,  our 
blessed  Saviour  himself,  when  he  came  to  tempt  him.  '  If  thou  be  the  fvou 
of  God,  command  these  stones  to  be  made  bread,'  Matt,  iv.  3.  He  comes 
with  an  if ;  he  labom:ed  to  shake  him  in  his  sonship.  The  devil,  since  he 
was  divided  from  God  himself  eternally,  is  become  a  spirit  of  division  ;  he 
labours  to  divide  the  Son  from  the  Father ;  he  labours  to  divide  even  God 
the  Father  from  his  own  Son  :  If  thou  be  the  Son  of  God.  So  he  labours 
to  sever  Christians  from  their  head,  Christ ;  subjects  from  their  princes, 
and  princes  from  their  subjects  ;'  friends  from  friends,  and  one  from 
another  ; — he  is  a  spirit  of  division  :  Where  is  thy  God  ?  There  was  his 
scope,  to  breed  division,  if  he  could,  between  his  heart  and  God,  that  he 
might  call  God  into  jealeusy,  as  if  he  had  not  regarded  him :  thou  hast 
taken  a  great  deal  of  paiss  in  serving  thy  God ;  thou  seest  how  he  regards 
thee  now  :  Where  is  thy  God  ? 

We  should  labour  to  make  this  use  of  it,  to  counter-work  Satan  ;  to 
strengthen  that  most  of  all,  that  the  devil  labours  to  shake  most  of  all. 
Shall  the  devil  labour  to  shake  our  faith  and  affiance  in  God  above  all  other 
things,  and  shall  we  not  labour  to  strengthen  that  ?  Above  all  things,  let 
us  look  to  our  head,  as  the  serpent  winds  about  and  keeps  his  head. 
Keep  faith,  and  keep  all.  If  faith  be  safe,  all  is  safe  ;  let  us  strengthen 
that,  and  strengthen  all ;  weaken  that,  and  we  weaken  all.  What  cares 
Satan  for  other  sins  that  we  fall  into  ?  He  aims  at  our  assurance,  that  we 
may  doubt  of  God's  love,  whom  we  have  been  so  bold  as  to  sin  against. 
That  is  it  he  aims  at,  to  make  weak  faith  in  the  particular  acts  of  sin  we 
commit.    He  knows  that  sin  naturally  breeds  doubts,  as  flesh  breeds  worms. 


THE  SWORD  OF  THE  WICKED,  111 

Where  sin  is,  if  it  be  in  never  such  a  little  degree,  he  knows  it  will  breed 
doubts  and  perplexities,  and  where  they  are,  he  hath  that  he  would  have. 
He  labours  to  hinder  that  sweet  communion  that  should  be  between  the 
soul  and  God  :  Where  is  noio  thy  God  ?  You  see  wicked  men  are  the 
children  of  the  devil  right  in  this. 

Again,  they  instance  here  in  matter  of  reHgion  against  him.  You  see 
how  ready  wicked  and  devilish-minded  men  are,  to  tread  over  the  hedge 
where  it  is  lowest,  as  the  proverb  is,  to  add  affliction  to  affliction,  especially 
in  that  that  may  touch  a  man  nearest.  They  could  not  touch  him  nearer 
than  in  this,  Where  is  thy  God  ?  They  knew  it  well  enough,  where  is  now 
your  religion  ?  This,  they  thought,  would  anger  him  to  the  heart.  Here 
is  a  devilish  disposition.  You  have  a  terrible  psalm  for  it,  Ps,  cix.,  of 
those  that  add  affliction  to  the  afflicted  ;  they  are  cursed  j)ersoiis.  This  is 
the  disposition  of  wicked  men,  they  have  no  mercy.  Malice,  we  say,  is 
unsatiable.  One  would  think  that  our  Saviour  Christ,  when  he  was  upon 
the  cross,  racked  there  in  all  his  parts,  a  man  exposed  to  so  much  misery 
and  scorn  as  he  was,  that  they  should  have  had  pity  upon  him  ;  but  upon 
the  cross  they  reproached  him.  Aha,  he  saved  others,  himself  he  cannot 
save  ;  let  him  come  from  the  cross,  and  we  will  believe  in  him.  What  a 
bitter  sarcasm  was  this,  that  came  from  hell  itself !  Nay,  when  he  was 
dead,  one  would  have  thought  their  malice  should  have  been  bmied  with 
his  body.  MaHce  is  ordinarily  among  men  living,  not  the  dead  ;  but  when 
he  was  dead.  This  imjmstor  said,  dc,  Matt.  xxvi.  61.  They  laboured 
to  bury  his  good  name,  that  nothing  tending  to  his  honour  might  remain  of 
him.  Indeed,  it  is  the  nature  of  malice  to  wish  the  not  being  of  the  thing 
it  maliceth,  no,  not  the  name.  Let  his  7iame  perish  from  the  earth,  Ps. 
xli.  5.  It  was  extremity  of  malice  to  work  upon  this  disadvantage,  when 
they  see  him  thus  afflicted,  to  vex  him  with  that  he  was  most  affected  with, 
Where  is  thy  God  ? 

Therefore,  let  those  that  feel  and  feed  that  devilish  disposition  in  themselves 
to  insult  over  God's  people,  especially  in  matters  of  reUgion  to  vex  them,  and 
when  there  is  a  wound  already,  to  make  the  affliction  gi'eater,  to  add  afflic- 
tion to  affliction,  let  them  judge  of  what  disposition  they  are. 

They  say  unto  me.  You  see  here  another  circumstance,  they  say  unto  me. 
They  are  so  impudent  that  they  are  not  afraid  to  reproach  him  to  his  face ; 
they  say  unto  him,  as  if  they  would  stand  to  their  reproach.  This  is  one 
circumstance  of  aggravation.  Indeed  malice  is  very  impudent,  when  it  is 
come  to  the  extremity.  I  only  observe  it,  that  if  we  meet  with  such 
insolency  of  malice,  not  to  be  discouraged  ;  it  hath  been  thus  before,  and 
thus  it  will  be  to  the  end  of  the  world. 

And,  then,  they  are  not  wearied,  their  malice  is  unwearied ;  they  say  to  me, 

Daily.  Day  by  day  their  malice  is  fed  with  a  spring,  with  a  malicious 
heart.  A  malicious  heart  and  a  slanderous  tongue  alway  go  well  together. 
The  devil,  that  was  the  first  grand  slanderer,  hath  communion  with  a 
malicious  heart,  and  he  foments  malice,  and  cherisheth  that  malicious,  poison- 
ful  disposition  ;  and  a  malicious  disposition  never  wants  malicious  words. 
As  one  saith  of  anger  and  fury,  it  ministereth  weapons  (c),  so  we  may  say 
of  malice  and  hatred,  it  ministereth  words  alway.  A  malicious  heart  will 
never  want  words  :  they  say  to  me,  daily.  These  are  but  circumstances, 
but  yet  they  are  somewhat  considerable,  for  they  tend  to  the  aggravation  of 
the  disconsolate  estate  of  this  holy  man,  that  he  should  meet  with  such 
wretched  men,  that  had  no  pity  at  all  on  him,  but  say  to  him  daily, 

Whtre  is  now  thy  God  ?     You  see  then  from  hence  that  God  is  a  God, 


112  THE  SWORD  OF  THE  WICKED. 

as  the  prophet  saith,  ofttimes  hiding  himself,  Isa.  xlv.  15,  that  God  vails 
himself  ofttimes  to  his  children.  Not  only  from  the  eyes  of  wicked  men, 
that  they  think  godly  men  deserted  of  God,  but  sometimes  from  the  very 
sense  and  feeling  of  God's  children  themselves.  They  are  in  such  deser- 
tions that  they  are  fain  to  complain  that  God  hath  hid  himself,  and  is  as  a 
stranger  to  them.  This  is  the  state  of  God's  children  in  this  world. 
Though  God  love  them  dearly,  '  as  the  apple  of  his  eye,  and  as  the  signet 
on  his  hand,'  Zech.  ii.  8,  and  Jer.  xxii.  24,  yet  notwithstanding  his  car- 
riage to  them  is  ofttimes  so  strange,  that  those  that  look  upon  their  estate 
in  this  world  think  they  are  men,  as  it  were,  forlorn  and  destitute  of  God. 
And  this  estate  must  needs  be,  because  of  necessity  there  must  be  a  con- 
formity between  us  and  our  Saviour.  It  was  so  with  our  Saviour,  '  My 
God,  my  God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  ? '  Matt,  xxvii.  46.  God  was 
never  nearer  him  in  all  his  life  than  then,  and  yet  he  cries  out,  '  My  God, 
my  God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  ? '  And  as  he  spake,  so  the  rest 
thought  of  him,  as  if  he  had  been  a  man  forsaken ;  and  so  here  they  say 
to  this  holy  man,  Where  is  thy  God  / 

Therefore  let  us  lay  up  this  likewise  for  the  strengthening  of  our  faith  in 
the  hke  case,  that  we  be  not  ovennuch  discouraged.  If  God  hide  himself, 
if  others  think  our  estates  miserable,  and  ourselves  think  om'selves  so,  it  is 
no  strange  matter.  It  was  thus  with  David.  He  was  so  neglected  of  God 
that  they  thought  God  had  clean  forsaken  him.     Where  is  thy  God  ? 

Our  life  is  now  hid  with  Chi'ist,  as  the  apostle  saith.  Col.  iii.  3.  We  have 
a  blessed  and  glorious  life,  but  it  is  hid  in  our  Head.  Even  as  in  winter 
time  the  trees  have  a  hfe,  but  it  is  hid  in  the  root,  so  a  Christian  hath  a 
blessed  condition  at  all  times,  but  his  glory  and  happiness  is  hid  in  hia 
Head,  and  there  is  a  cloud  between  him  and  his  happiness. 

Therefore  let  us  support  ourselves  with  this  in  all  times,  was  God  gone 
from  David  indeed  when  they  said,  '  Where  is  thy  God  ? '  Oh  no  ;  God 
was  as  near  David  now  as  ever  he  was,  nay,  rather  nearer.  God  was  never 
nearer  Moses  than  when  he  was  sprawling  upon  the  water  in  that  ark  they  had 
made  for  him,  Ex.  ii.  3.  He  was  never  nearer  Daniel  than  when  he  was  in 
the  lion's  den,  Dan.  vi.  19.  God  came  between  the  lion's  teeth  and  Daniel. 
And,  as  I  said,  he  was  never  nearer  our  Saviour  than  when  he  was  on  the 
cross.  And  he  was  never  nearer  to  Da\'id  than  when  they  said,  '  Where  is 
thy  God  ? '  When  trouble  is  near,  God  is  never  far  off.  That  is  an  argu- 
ment to  make  God  near.  Lord,  be  not  far  off,  for  trouble  is  near.  And  ex- 
tremity and  danger  and  trouble,  it  is  God's  best  opportunity  to  be  with  his 
children,  however  he  do  not  help  for  the  present  ofttimes.  '  Where  is  thy 
Godr 

David  might  rather  have  said  to  them,  Where  are  your  eyes  ?  where  is 
your  sight  ?  for  God  is  not  only  in  heaven,  but  in  me.  Though  David  was 
shut  from  the  sanctuary,  yet  David's  soul  was  a  sanctuary  for  God ;  for 
God  is  not  tied  to  a  sanctuary  made  with  hands.  God  hath  two  sanctua- 
ries, he  hath  two  heavens:  the  heaven  of  heavens  and  a  broken  spirit. 
God  dwelt  in  Da\dd  as  in  his  temple.  God  was  with  David  and  in  him; 
and  he  was  never  more  with  him,  nor  never  more  in  him,  than  in  his  greatest 
afflictions.  They  wanted  eyes,  he  wanted  not  God.  Though  sometimes 
God  hide  himself,  not  only  from  the  world,  but  from  his  own  children,  yet 
he  is  there ;  howsoever  their  sorrow  is  such  that  it  dims  their  sight  (as  we 
see  in  Hagar),  so  that  they  cannot  see  him  for  the  present.  Gen.  xxi.  19. 
He  sometimes  looks  in  their  face,  as  we  see  Maiy.  She  could  not  see 
Christ  distinctly,  but  thought  him  to  be  the  gardener.     There  is  a  kind  of 


THE  SWOED  OP  THE  WICKED.  113 

concealment  a  while  in  heavenly  wisdom,  yet,  notwithstanding,  God  is  with 
his  children  always,  and  they  know  it  by  faith,  though  not  by  feeUng  always. 
As  we  know  what  Jacob  said,  '  God  was  in  this  place,  and  I  was  not  aware,' 
Gen.  xxviii.  16,  when  he  slept  upon  the  stone,  and  had  that  heavenly  vision; 
so  it  is  with  God's  people  in  their  trouble.  God  is  with  his  church  and 
children,  and  wicked  men  are  not  aware  of  it.  Christ  is  in  them,  and 
they  are  not  aware  of  it.  Christ  was  in  the  saints  when  Saul  persecuted 
them,  and  Paul  was  not  aware  of  it,  '  Saul,  Saul,  why  persecutest  thou  me? 
Who  art  tlwu,  Lord?'  saith  he.  Alas!  he  dreamed  not  of  Christ.  How- 
ever wicked  men  of  the  world  think,  yet  God  is  near  his  own  children,  in 
the  most  disconsnlato  condition  that  can  be.  It  is,  when  they  say,  '  Where 
is  tJi,y  Gud  '! '  as  if  a  man  should  ask  what  is  become  of  the  moon  between 
the  old  and  the  new,  when  the  dark  side  is  towards  us,  when  we  see  no 
moon  at  all  for  a  time,  till  the  new  come  ?  The  moon  is  near,  and  more 
enlightened  with  the  sun  then  than  at  other  times,  and  is  nearer  to  him. 
So  in  afflictions.  However  the  dark  side  of  God's  children  be  toward  the 
world,  that  they  cannot  see  them,  yet  their  light  side  is  towards  God.  God 
shines  upon  them,  and  enhghtens  them  more  then  at  that  time  with  soUd 
comfort,  that  keeps  them  from  sinking,  than  at  other  times.  Therefore  it 
was  an  ignorant  question  of  them  to  ask.  Where  is  thy  God  ?  It  shewed 
they  were  ignorant  of  the  passages  of  God's  deahng  with  his  children,  as 
indeed  none  are  greater  atheists  than  your  scoffers.  Where  is  thy  God  ? 
as  if  God  had  been  only  a  God  of  observation,  to  be  observed  outwardly  in 
aU  his  passages  towards  his  children,  whereas,  as  I  said,  he  is  a  God  hid- 
ing himself  ofttimes ;  and  he  shews  himself  in  contrary  conditions  most  of 
all,  most  comfortably.  His  work  is  by  contraries.  But  these  carnal  men 
were  ignorant  of  the  mysteries  of  reUgion,  and  the  mysteries  of  divine  provi- 
dence towards  God's  children.  Therefore  their  question  savours  of  their 
disposition.  Where  is  now  thy  God  ?  Thus  briefly  I  have  gone  over  their  dis- 
position and  carriage  towards  the  holy  man  David,  that  they  were  enemies 
of  hostile  natm-e  and  disposition,  and  they  reproached  him,  and  daily,  and 
that  in  his  reUgion,  Where  is  thy  God  ? 

I  beseech  you  let  us  look  to  it  in  time,  that  it  may  not  be  truly  said  to 
us,  by  way  of  upbraiding,  Where  is  now  thy  God  ?  God  may  be  strange 
to  us  indeed ;  let  us  so  carry  ourselves  as  that  God  may  own  us  in  the  worst 
times.  If  they  had  said  this  truly,  how  grievous  had  it  been  to  David ! 
but  it  was  more  maUce  than  truth.  For  David  found  experience  of  God. 
He  might  rather  have  upbraided  them,  Where  is  your  God  ?  and  there  is 
no  wicked  man,  but  a  man  may  in  his  greatest  extremity  upbraid  him,  and 
that  in  truth.  Where  is  your  God  ?  your  riches,  honour,  and  estate  ?  where 
is  all  this  that  you  supported  yourself  with,  and  bore  yourself  so  big  on, 
that  you  despised  all  others  ?  what  has  become  of  all  now  ?  A  man  can- 
not stand  ia  a  thing  that  stands  not  itself.  A  man  cannot  build  on  that 
that  hath  no  good  foundation.  Now  all  men  that  are  not  truly  religious, 
they  have  some  idol  or  other  that  will  deceive  them.  Therefore  a  man 
may  traly  say  to  them,  that  which  they  falsely  and  maHciously  say  to  God's 
people.  Where  is  your  God  ? 

So  much  for  their  disposition  and  carriage.  Now  how  stands  David 
affected  with  this  ?  that  is  the  second  part. 

As  u'ith  a  sword  in  my  bones.  It  was  as  a  sword  to  his  bones.  Now 
that  that  toucheth  the  bones  is  the  most  exquisite  grief.  That  that  we  call 
the  grief  of  the  teeth,  you  see  what  an  exquisite  grief  it  is  in  that  little 
member.      When  the  bones  are  cut   or  touched,  it  is  a  most  exquisite 

VOL.  I.  H 


il4  THE  SWOBD  OF  THE  WICKED. 

grief.  As  with  a  sivord  in  my  bones,  my  enemies  reproach  me.  What  was 
the  matter  that  this  reproach,  Where  is  thy  God  ?  touched  him  bo  to  the 
quick  ?     What  was  the  cause  ?     The  causes  were  diverse. 

First  of  all  concerrdng  God :  for  when  they  said  to  him,  *  Where  is  thy 
God?' 

First,  It  tended  to  the  reproach  of  God,  as  if  God  were  so  fickle  a  friend 
as  to  desert  his  best  friends  in  the  time  of  misery.  This  touched  upon  God 
by  way  of  disparagement,  therefore  it  must  needs  touch  David,  who  was 
God's  fi-iend. 

Then,  again,  it  touched  God  in  another  thing,  in  his  manner  of  provi- 
dence, as  if  he  had  been  a  God  of  the  hills  and  not  of  the  valleys ;  as  if  he 
had  been  a  God  for  one  time  and  not  for  another.  Where  is  now  thy  God  ? 
What  is  become  of  him  ? 

Again,  in  the  tMrd  place,  it  touched  upon  him  in  this,  as  if  he  had 
favoured  them,  being  cursed,  formal  hypocrites,  more  than  David ;  as  if  he 
had  favoured  their  formal,  hypocritical,  base,  dead  courses,  that  were  most 
abominable  to  God.  For  these  persecutors  were  Saul's  courtiers,  and  other 
enemies.  Wicked  men,  they  thought  to  justify  their  own  ways  by  this  re- 
proach. You  see  we  are  as  good  as  you.  God  respects  us ;  we  fall  not 
into  such  miseries ;  we  have  recoui'se  to  Saul,  though  he  have  cast  out 
you  and  others,  &c.  So  it  tended  to  God's  reproach  in  that,  as  if  God  had 
justified  their  course,  as  if  they  had  been  dearer  to  him  that  were  most 
abominable. 

And  this  is  to  make  an  idol  of  God,  to  make  God  justify  those  courses 
that  he  most  abhors,  as  it  is  in  Ps.  1.,  '  Thou  thoughtest  I  was  like  unto 
thee.'  Because  God  lets  a  wicked  man  alone,  thou  thoughtest  that  I  was 
a  companion  for  thee,  and  would  take  thee  by  the  hand ;  whereas  God  will 
not  do  so. 

In  these  three  respects,  especially,  God  was  wronged  when  they  said, 
'  Where  is  thy  God  ?'  as  if  he  had  not  been  a  true  and  faithful  friend  to  his 
children ;  and,  besides,  as  if  he  had  not  a  providence  over  his  children  in 
the  worst  condition ;  as  if  he  had  allowed  and  liked  of  the  base  carriage, 
and  condition,  and  profession  of  these  wretched  men  as  well  as  of  David's. 
*  Where  is  now  thy  God  V  You  see  God  respects  us  as  well  as  you.  But 
there  was  no  such  matter ;  he  respected  David  more  than  a  thousand  of 
them. 

Again,  this  touched  upon  religion  itself,  this  reproach,  *  Where  is  now 
thy  God  ?'  where  is  your  goodly  profession  ?  as  if  it  were  in  vain  to  serve 
God,  a  horrible  reproach  to  rehgion.  It  is  not  in  vain  altogether  to  serve 
the  devil ;  he  bestows  somewhat  upon  his  servants.  This  was  a  base 
thought,  to  think  that  God  would  do  no  good  to  them  that  serve  him. 
That  is  the  fountain  of  all  good,  that  doeth  good  to  his  enemies,  that 
suffers  his  sun  to  shine  upon  his  enemies,  Mat.  v.  45.  For  him  to  desert 
his  friends,  for  a  man  to  be  tnily  religious  and  get  nothing  by  it,  this  tended 
to  the  reproach  of  rehgion ;  and  through  David's  sides  they  strike  at  God 
and  rehgion,  as  if  it  were  in  vain  to  serve  God,  as  they  said  in  Malachi's 
time,  Mai.  iii.  14.  And,  indeed,  this  is  in  the  hearts  of  men  now-a-days. 
If  they  see  a  man  that  makes  care  and  conscience  of  his  ways,  under  a 
cloud,  or  that  he  doth  not  so  prosper  in  the  world  as  others  do,  they  begin 
to  have  weak  conceits  of  the  profession  of  religion,  as  if  that  were  the 
cause,  as  if  there  was  nothmg  gotten  by  serving  of  God.  But  we  may  be 
loose  professors,  and  go  in  a  libertine  course,  and  please  God  as  well 
as  others.     This  is  a  great  grief  to  God's  children.     They  know  well 


I 


THE  SWORD  OF  THE  WICKED.  115 

enough  it  is  not  in  vain  to  serve  God.  God  is  not  a  barren  wilderness, 
Jer.  ii.  31,  to  those  that  serve  him ;  they  are  not  barren  groijnd  that  are 
careful  in  his  service.  So  you  see  upon  what  ground  he  was  thus  affected, 
because  God  and  rehgion  were  touched  in  it. 

Take  away  a  godly  man's  rehgion,  and  his  God  whom  he  serves  in 
reUgion,  you  take  away  his  hfe ;  touch  him  in  that,  you  touch  him  in  his 
best  freehold.  Therefore,  when  these  mahcious  enemies  say.  Where  is 
thy  God  ?  they  could  not  more  touch  David  than  so.  Profane  men  of  the 
world  come  and  tell  them  of  rehgion  and  such  things.  Alas  !  they  turn  it  off 
with  scorn,  for  they  would  have  the  world  know  that  they  are  not  very  reli- 
gious ;  they  never  speak  of  God  and  of  religion  but  in  scorn,  or  by  way  of 
discourse.  But  a  man  that  is  rehgious  to  purpose,  and  makes  it  his  trade, 
makes  it  that  whereby  he  hopes  to  be  saved,  he  takes  to  heart  any  thing 
that  is  spoken  against  rehgion,  their  words  are  as  a  sword  in  his  hones, 
while  they  say  unto  him,  Where  is  thij  God  ?  It  is  better  to  be  dis- 
tempered than  not  to  be  moved,  when  God  and  rehgion  are  touched.  The 
Holy  Ghost  that  appeared  in  the  shape  of  a  dove,  Matt.  iii.  16,  appeared 
at  another  time  in  fiery  tongues,  Acts  ii.  3,  to  shew  that  the  meek  spirit  of 
God  is  zealous  other  whiles  in  his  children.  This  was  another  reason  he 
was  thus  affected. 

And,  thirdly,  in  this  reproach  of  theirs,  thus  violent,  '  "Where  is  now  thy 
God  ?'  here  was  a  damping  of  the  spirits  of  all  good  men  in  those  times, 
that  should  hear  of  this  reproach.  Words  affect  strangely ;  they  have  a 
strange  force  with  men,  especially  in  weak  fancies,  that  are  not  grounded  in 
their  judgment  and  faith.  The  spies  made  a  shrewd  oration,  and  brought 
an  ill  report  on  the  land :  Oh  !  it  is  a  land  that  devours  the  inhabitants,  Num. 
xiii.  32.  It  was  a  speech  discomfortable,  and  it  wrought  so,  that  it  made 
them  all  murmur  and  be  discouraged.  It  is  not  to  be  thought  what  mis- 
chief comes  from  speech  cunningly  handled.  This  malicious  speech, 
*  Where  is  thy  God  ?'  and  what  is  become  of  all  thy  devotion  at  the  taber- 
nacle, that  thou  didst  frequent  so,  and  drewest  others,  a  great  train  with 
thee,  what  is  become  of  all  now  ?  When  weak  men,  that  had  the  begin- 
nings of  goodnetes  in  them,  should  see  a  man  reproached  for  this,  question- 
less it  would  damp  the  beginnings  of  goodness.  0  would  not  this  go  to 
the  heart  of  David,  to  see  insolent  men  to  quench  good  things  in  good  men 
with  reproaches  !  Well,  we  see  what  reason  the  holy  man  David  had  to 
be  so  sensible  of  this  reproach,  for  they  said  imto  him  daily,  '  Where  is 
thy  God?' 

Now,  therefore,  to  make  some  use  of  it  to  ourselves,  let  us  enter  into  our 
own  souls,  and  examine  with  what  spirits  and  feelingwe  hear  God  reproached, 
and  rehgion  reproached,  and  hindered,  and  disgraced  any  kind  of  way.  If 
we  be  not  sensible  of  this,  and  sensible  to  the  quick,  we  may  suspect  we 
are  not  of  David's  spirit,  that  was  a  man  after  God's  own  heart,  1  Samuel 
xiii.  14  ;  Acts  xiii.  22.  It  was  a  cutting  of  his  bones,  when  they  came  to 
disparage  his  religion,  and  profession,  and  to  touch  him  in  that.  Shall  a 
man  see  men  forsake  religion,  and  go  backward,  and  desert  the  cause  of 
God,  and  see  it  oppressed,  and  not  be  affected  with  all  this  ?  Certainly  he 
hath  a  dead  soul.  That  which  hath  no  grief,  when  there  is  cause  of  grief, 
certainly  it  is  to  be  accounted  but  as  dead  flesh.  That  heart  is  but  dead 
flesh  that  is  not  touched  with  the  sense  of  religion. 

And  to  come  a  little  nearer  to  om*  times,  when  we  can  hear  of  the  estate 
of  the  chxurch  abroad,  the  poor  church  in  the  Palatinate,  in  Bohemia,  {d) 
and  those  places,  you  see  how  like  a  canker,  superstition  is  grown  up  amongst 


IIQ  THE  SWOKD  OF  THE  WICKED. 

them  •  when  we  hear  of  these  things  and  are  not  affected,  and  do  not  send 
up  a  sigh  to  God,  it  is  a  sign  we  have  hollow  and  dead  hearts.  No  ques- 
tion but  if  we  were  there  among  those  mahgnant  spirits  that  are  there, 
their  speeches  are  daily  such,  as  these  wicked  men's  were  to  David,  What  is 
become  of  your  reformation  ?  What  is  become  of  your  new  religion  ?  Where 
is  that  now,  I  pray  ?  You  that  do  upbraid  us  with  idolatry,  what  is  become 
of  your  religion  ?  No  question  but  they  have  these  sarcasms  and  bitter 
speeches  daily  ;  and  those  that  have  the  Spirit  of  God,  they  are  grieved 
to  the  heart.  If  we  have  the  Spirit  of  God  and  of  Christ  in  our  breasts, 
and  anything  of  the  spirit  of  David  and  of  holy  men,  we  will  grieve  at  this. 

The  apostle  St  Paul,  when  Elymas  laboured  to  stop,  when  one  was  to  be 
converted,  he  breaks  out,  '  Thou  child  of  the  devil,  and  enemy  of  all  good, 
why  dost  thou  not  cease  to  pervert  the  right  ways  of  God  ?'  Acts  xiii,  10. 
A  man  that  is  not  fired  in  this  case,  hath  nothing  at  all  in  him.  When  we 
see  wicked  men  go  about  to  pervert  religion,  and  overturn  all,  and  we  are 
not  stirred  at  it,  it  is  an  ill  sign. 

Let  us,  therefore,  take  a  trial  of  ourselves,  how  we  stand  affected  in  case 
of  religion.  He  that  hath  no  zeal  in  him  hath  no  love.  By  an  antiperis- 
tasis,  an  opposition  of  the  contrary  increaseth  the  contrary ;  if  a  man  have 
any  goodness,  if  it  be  environed  with  opposition,  it  will  intend  (e)  the  goodness 
and  increase  it.  Lot  shewed  his  goodness  in  Sodom  the  more,  because  of 
the  wickedness  of  the  Sodomites.  When  a  man  is  in  vile  company,  and 
hears  religion  disgraced,  and  good  persons  scoffed  at,  and  wiU  not  have  a 
word  to  justify  good  causes  and  good  persons,  he  hath  no  life  at  all  of  reli- 
gion ;  for  if  he  had,  he  would  then  have  more  religion  than  ordinary,  the 
contrary  would  then  intend,  and  increase  the  contrary.  There  was  a 
blessed  mixture  of  many  affections  in  this  grief  of  the  holy  man  David, 
when  he  said,  '  their  words  were  as  a  sword  in  his  bones.'  There  was  great 
grief,  not  only  for  himself,  as  a  man  being  sensible  of  reproaches,  for  men 
are  men  ;  and  not  out  of  corrupt  nature,  but  out  of  the  principles  of  nature, 
they  are  sensible  of  reproaches.  Here  was  grief  in  respect  of  God,  and  in 
respect  of  himself ;  and  here  was  the  love  of  God  and  the  love  of  religion 
in  this  grief.  Here  was  zeal  in  this,  and  a  sweet  mixtm'e  of  blessed  affec- 
tions ;  a  sweet  temper  in  this,  when  he  saith,  '  their  words  were  as  a  sword 
in  my  bones.' 

Let  us  make  a  use  of  trial,  bring  ourselves  to  this  pattern,  and  think,  if 
we  do  come  short  of  this,  then  we  come  short  of  that  that  should  be  in  us. 
But  especially  let  us  consider  with  what  hearts  we  entertain  those  doleful 
and  sad  reports  of  foreign  churches,  and  \\'ith  what  consideration  and  view 
we  look  upon  the  present  estate  of  the  church,  whether  we  be  glad  or  no. 
There  are  many  false  spirits  that  either  are  not  affected  at  all,  or  else  they 
are  inwardly  glad  of  it ;  they  are  of  the  same  disposition  that  those  cursed 
Edomites  were  of,  '  Down  with  it,  down  with  it,  even  unto  the  ground,'  Ps. 
cxxxvii.  7.  I  hope  that  there  are  but  few  such  amongst  us  here,  therefore 
I  will  not  press  that.  But  if  we  be  dead-hearted,  and  are  not  affected  with 
the  cause  of  the  church,  let  us  suspect  ourselves,  and  think  all  is  not  well. 
The  fixe  from  heaven  is  not  kmdled  in  our  hearts.  Our  hearts  are  not  yet 
the  altar  where  God  hath  kindled  that  heavenly  fire,  if  we  can  hear  religion 
disgraced,  and  good  causes  go  backward,  and  not  be  affected.  '  Curse  ye 
Meroz.'  Why  ?  Because  '  they  went  not  out  to  help  the  Lord,'  Jud.  v. 
23.  If  those  be  cursed  that  do  not  help,  as  they  can,  by  their  prayers,  then 
surely  they  are  cursed  that  are  dead-hearted,  that  are  not  affected  at  all, 
that  join  with  the  persecutors,  that  cry,  '  Down  with  it  even  to  the  ground,' 


THE  SWOED  OF  THE  WICKED.  117 

and  say,  *  Alia,  so  we  would  have  it.'  If  those  be  cursed  that  help  not  for- 
ward the  cause  of  the  church,  at  least  by  their  prayers,  and  strive  and  con- 
tend for  '  the  faith  once  given,'  Jude  3,  what  shall  we  think  of  those  that  are 
not  affected  at  all  ?  nay,  which  is  worst  of  all,  that  hinder  good  causes,  that 
are  scorners  of  rehgion  and  good  causes,  what  shall  we  think  of  those 
wretched  spirits  ?     How  opposite  are  they  to  the  spirit  of  David  ! 

To  add  one  thing  more,  we  may  learn  Jaence  the  extent  of  the  command- 
ments, how  to  enlarge  the  commandments.  Our  Saviour,  Christ,  when  he 
came  to  preach  the  gospel,  he  began  with  the  enlargement  of  the  command- 
ments, shewing  the  spiritual  meaning  and  extent  of  the  law,  '  He  that  calleth 
his  brother  Raca,  or  fool,  is  in  danger  of  hell  fire,'  and  *  He  that  looks  on  a 
woman  to  lust  after  her,  hath  committed  adultery  with  her  in  his  heart,'  Mat. 
V.  22,  28.  You  see  here  the  prophet  David,  when  he  speaks  of  their  reproach, 
he  speaks  of  it  as  if  they  had  a  murderous  intention  ;  and  in  the  event  and 
issue  it  is  a  kind  of  murder.  As  with  a  sword  in  my  hones,  my  enemies  re- 
proach  me,  &c.  This  sword  were  but  words.  He  is  a  murderer  in  God's 
esteem,  and  so  it  will  prove  if  he  repent  not,  that  wounds  another  man  with 
his  tongue.  For  what  doth  the  Holy  Ghost  here  in  David  ?  Doth  he  not 
set  out  words  by  swords  ?  Is  it  not  oft  in  the  Psalms,  '  Their  words  are  as 
Bwords,  the  poison  of  asps  is  under  their  lips  ? '  Rom.  iii.  13.  There  is  an 
excellent  place  you  have  for  this  in  Prov.  xii.  18,  '  There  is  that  speaks 
like  the  piercing  of  a  sword,  but  the  tongue  of  the  wise  is  health.'  A  good 
man  hath  a  healing  tongue,  he  hath  a  medicinal,  salving  tongue ;  but  a 
wicked  man,  his  words  are  as  swords,  and,  as  he  saith  here,  their  speaking 
is  as  the  piercing  of  a  sword.  Therefore,  hence  let  us  learn  not  to  think 
ourselves  free  from  murder  when  we  have  killed  nobody,  or  free  from 
adultery  when  we  are  free  from  the  gi'oss  act.  This  is  but  a  pharisaical 
gloss  upon  the  commandments ;  but  if  we  will  understand  the  command- 
ments of  God  as  they  are  to  be  understood,,  we  must  enlarge  them  as  the 
Scripture  enlargeth  them.  He  that  prejudiceth  the  life  and  comfort  of  any 
man,  he  is  a  murderer  of  him  in  God's  esteem ;  and  he  that  labom-s  to  cut 
another  man  to  the  heart  with  sharp,  piercing  words,  in  God's  esteem  he  is 
a  murderer.  Those  that,  though  among  men,  they  cannot  say  black  is 
their  eye,  and  pride  themselves,  as  if  they  were  very  religious  men ;  yet, 
notwithstanding,  they  are  men  that  are  not  wanting  of  their  tongues, 
men  that  care  not  to  speak  bitterly  and  sharply  of  others.  If  they  did  con- 
sider of  this,  it  would  take  them  down,  and  make  them  think  a  Uttle 
meaner  of  themselves,  when,  indeed,  in  God's  construction,  they  are  Httle 
better  than  murderers.  '  As  with  a  sword  in  my  bones,  mine  enemies  re- 
proach me,  while  they  say  to  me  daily,  Where  is  thy  God  ? '  So  much  for 
these  words. 


NOTES. 


(a)  P.  105. — '  Scantling'  ==  a  proportion,  or  simply,  portion.  This  is  a  somewhat 
peculiar  use  of  a  not  very  common  word.  It  occurs  in  Shakspeare  once  in  the  same 
sense  with  that  here : 

' Trust  to  me,  Ulyss?.s, 

Our  imputation  shall  be  oddly  pcis'd 
In  this  wild  action  :  for  the  success, 
Although  particular,  shall  give  a  scantling 
Of  good  or  bad  unto  the  general.' — Troilus  and  Cressida,  1.  8. 
See  also  Locke,  Human  Understanding,  b.  ii.,  c.  21. 


118  THE  SWOKD  OF  THE  WICKED. 

(b)  P.  108.— 'As  killing  in  my  bones.'  The  strong  impression  'killing,'  or  oven 
as  it  might  be  rendered,  murder,  is  a  literal  equivalent  of  the  original  (n^*!).  ■which 

is  intended  to  express   excruciating   pain.     Compare   Ezekiel   xxi.   22,  rendered 
•  slayeth'  in  auth.  version. 

(c)  P.  111. — '  As  one  saith  of  anger.'     The  reference  is  to  Virgil,  Mn.,  lib.  i., 

V.  150: 

' Furor  arma  ministrat ; 

Turn  pietate  gravem  ac  meritis,  si  forte  virum  quem 
Conspexere,'  &c. 

(d)  P.  115. — '  The  poor  church  in  the  Palatinate.'  Our  memoir  shews  the  deep 
interest  Sibbes,  in  common  with  the  '  Puritans,'  took  in  the  persecuted  Protestants 
of  Bohemia. 

(e)  P.  116. — '  Intend'  =  stretch,  and  so  augment.  Richardson  illustrates  the 
word  from  Barrow. 

6. 


THE  SOUL'S  CONmCT  WITH  ITSELF, 


AXD  VICTORY  OYER  ITSELF  BY  FAITH. 


A  TREATISE  OF  THE  INWAED  DISQUIETMENTS  OF  DISTRESSED 

SPIRITS,  WITH  COMFORTABLE  REMEDIES 

TO  ESTABLISH  THEM. 


THE  SOUL'S  CONFLICT,  AND  VICTORY  OVER  ITSELF  BY 

FAITH. 


NOTE. 

The  several  editions  of  the  '  Soul's  Conflict,'  known  to  the  Editor,  and  collated 
for  the  present  publication,  are,  with  the  letters  used  to  designate  them,  as  follows : — 

(a)  The  Sovles  Conflict  with  it  selfe,  and  Victorie  over  it  selfe  by  Faith.  A  Trea- 
tise of  the  inward  disquietments  of  distressed  spirits,  with  comfortable  remedies  to 
establish  them.  '  Retume  unto  thy  rest,  0  my  soule,  for  the  Lord  hath  dealt  bountifully 
with  thee.' 

By  R.  Sibbs,  D.D,,  Master  of  Katherine  Hall,  in  Cambridge,  and  Preacher  at 
Grayes  Inne,  London. 

Printed  at  London,  by  M.  Flesher,  for  R.  Dawlman,  at  the  Brazen  Serpent,  in 
Paul's  Churchyard.     1635.     12mo.     A. 

%*  This  is  the  first  edition. 

(6)  There  was  a  re-issue  in  same  year — 1635 — of  A.  It  is  distinguishable  from 
it  by  having  '  Victory '  for  '  Victorie  '  in  title-page,  and  by  certain  corrections,  ant? 
one  alteration.  The  chief  interest  attaching  to  it  rests  on  the  latter,  upon  whicL 
Bishop  Patrick  makes  his  charge  against  the  Puritans  of  '  falsification.'  See  note 
at  end  of  treatise. 

(c)  2d  edition,  1635.     12mo.     C. 

(d)  Another  called  '  2d  edition,'  1686.     12mo.    D. 

(e)  3d  edition,  1636.     12mo.     E. 
(/)  4th  edition,  1638.     12mo.     F. 

(g)  Another  called  '  4th  edition,'  1651.     12mo.     G. 

{h)  6th  edition,  1658.     12mo,     H.    ' 

The  text  of  our  reprint  is  A  (see  title-page  supra),  with  collations  from  B;  C  to 
H  consist  simply  of  reproductions  of  C,  and  which,  except  in  the  addition  of  the 
•  Verses '  by  Benlowes  and  Quarles,  foUows  B.  I  have  preferred  A  as  our  text,  from 
its  having  been  published  by  Sibbes  himself,  but  have  carefully  noted  the  '  correc- 
tions '  and  alteration  supra  as  unquestionably  made  by  his  authority.  The  division 
into  chapters  of  0  has  been  retained,  as  facilitating  perusal. 

o. 


TO  THE  RIGHT  WORSHIPFUL 

SIK  JOHN  BANKES,  KNIGHT, 

THE  king's  majesty's  ATTORNEY-GENERAL,* 

SIE  EDWAED  MOSELY,  KNIGHT, 

ms  majesty's  attorney  of  the  duchy  [of  lancasteb],! 

SIE  WILLIAM  DENNY,  KNIGHT, 

one  of  the  king's  learned  council,^ 

SIE  DUDLEY  DIGGES,  KNIGHT, 

one  of  the  masters  of  the  chancery, '11 

and  the  rest  of  the  worshipful, 

READERS  AND  BENCHERS,  WITH  THE  ANCIENTS, 
BARRISTERS,  STUDENTS, 

AND  ALL  others  BELONGING    TO    THE  HONOURABLE    SOCIETY  OF  GRAY'S  INN, 

R[ICHAilD]  SIBBES 

DEDIOATETH  THESE  SERMONS,  PREACHED  AMONGST  THEM,  IN  TESTIMONY 

OP  HIS  DUE  OBSERVANCE,  AND  DESIRE  OF  THEIR 

SPIRITUAL  AND  ETERNAL  GOOD. 


*  Sir  John  Bankes  was  a  man  of  mark  in  his  generation.  He  was  constituted 
Lord  Chief  Justice  of  the  Common  Pleas,  from  being  attorney,  as  above  described, 
in  1640-41.  He  adhered  to  Charles  I ;  and  was  employed  against  Hampden  the 
patriot,  in  the  case  of  ship-money.  His  wife's  noble  defence  of  Corfe  Castle,  and 
its  fall  by  treachery  in  the  next  year,  has  been  well  told  by  a  descendant  in  a  volume 
dedicated  to  the  story  of  Corfe  Castle.  He  died  in  1644,  at  Oxford. — Consult  Foss's 
admirable  Judges  of  England,  vol.  vi. ;  also  Lloyd's  '  Memoires,'  pp.  686-7,  1668. 

t  Sir  Edward  Mosely  or  Mosley  was  of  the  family  of  Ancoats,  near  Manchester, 
now  represented  by  Sir  Oswald  Mosley,  Bart. 

$  Sir  William  Denny  was  of  Cambridgeshire  and  Ireland, — See  Burke. 

II  Sir  Dudley  Digges,  like  Bankes,  is  a  historical  character.  After  fulfilling 
various  senatorial  and  diplomatic  appointments,  and  suffering  imprisonment  more 
than  once,  he  was  admitted  Master  in  Chancery  in  1631,  and  received  a  grant  of  the 
reversion  of  the  office  of  Master  of  the  Rolls  after  the  death  of  Sir  Julius  Caesar 
He  obtained  possession  of  it  at  Sir  Julius's  death,  in  April  1636,  and  held  it  till  hia 
own,  in  March  18. 1639.    He  is  one  of  Fuller's  '  Worthies.' — See  Foss,  as  supra. 

G. 


TO  THE  CHEISTIAN  EEADEE. 


There  be  two  sorts  of  people  always  in  the  visible  church,  one  that  Satan 
keeps  under  with  false  peace,  whose  life  is  nothing  but  a  diversion  to  pre- 
sent contentments,  and  a  running  away  from  God  and  their  own  hearts, 
which  they  know  can  speak  no  good  unto  them ;  these  speak  peace  to 
themselves,  but  God  speaks  none.  Such  have  nothing  to  do  with  this 
Scripture,  Ps.  xUi.  11 ;  the  way  for  these  men  to  enjoy  comfort,  is  to  be 
soundly  troubled.  True  peace  arises  from  knowing  the  worst  first,  and 
then  our  freedom  from  it.  It  is  a  miserable  peace  that  riseth  from  ignor- 
ance of  evil.  The  angel  '  troubled  the  waters,'  John  v.  4,  and  then  it*  cured 
those  that  stepped  in.  It  is  Christ's  manner  to  trouble  our  souls  first,  and 
then  to  come  with  healing  in  his  wings. 

But  there  is  another  sort  of  people,  who  being  drawn  out  of  Satan's 
kingdom  and  within  the  covenant  of  grace,  whom  Satan  labours  to  unsettle 
and  disquiet :  being  the  '  god  of  the  world,'  2  Cor.  iv.  4,  he  is  vexed  to  see 
men  in  the  world,  walk  above  the  world.  Since  he  cannot  hinder  their 
estate,  he  will  trouble  their  peace,  and  damp  their  spirits,  and  cut  asunder 
the  sinews  of  aU  their  endeavours.  These  should  take  themselves  to  task 
as  David  doth  here,  and  labour  to  maintain  their  portion  and  the  glory  of  a 
Christian  profession.  For  whatsoever  is  in  God  or  comes  from  God,  is  for 
their  comfort.  Himself  is  the  God  of  comfort,  Rom.  xv.  5 ;  his  Spirit 
most  known  by  that  office,  John  .xiv.  26.  Our  blessed  Saviour  was  so 
careful  that  his  disciples  should  not  be  too  much  dejected,  that  he  forgat 
his  own  bitter  passion  to  comfort  them,  whom  yet  he  knew  would  all  for- 
sake him:  'Let  not  your  hearts  be  troubled,'  saith  he,  John  xiv.  1,  27. 
And  his  own  soul  was  troubled  to  death,  that  we  should  not  be  troubled  : 
*  whatsoever  is  written  is  written  for  this  end,'  2  Cor.  ii.  9  ;  every  article 
of  faith  hath  a  special  influence  in  comforting  a  beheving  soul.  They  are 
not  only  food,  but  cordials ;  yea,  he  put  himself  to  his  oath,  that  we  might 
not  only  have  consolation,  but  strou{f  consolation,  Heb.  vi.  18.  The  sacra- 
ments seal  unto  us  all  the  comforts  we  have  by  the  death  of  Christ.  The 
exercise  of  religion,  as  prayer,  hearing,  reading,  &c.,  is,  that  *  our  joy  may 
be  full,'  2  John  12.  The  communion  of  saints  is  chiefly  ordained  to  com- 
fort the  feeble-minded  and  to  strengthen  the  weak,  1  Thess.  v.  14.  God's 
government  of  his  church  tends  to  this.  Why  doth  he  sweeten  our  pil- 
grimage, and  let  us  see  so  many  comfortable  days  in  the  world,  but  that  we 
should  serve  him  with  cheerful  and  good  hearts  ?  As  for  crosses,  he  doth 
but  cast  us  down,  to  raise  us  up,  and  empty  us  that  he  may  fill  us,  and 
*  '  It.'  removed  in  C. 


TO  THE  CHEISTIAN  EEADEK.  128 

melt  us  that  we  may  be  '  vessels  of  glory,'  Eom.  ix.  23,  loving  us  as  well 
in  the  furnace,  as  when  we  are  out,  and  standing  by  us  all  the  while.  *  We 
are  troubled,  but  not  distressed  ;  perplexed,  but  not  in  despair ;  persecuted 
but  not  forsaken,'  2  Cor.  iv.  8.  If  we  consider  from  what  fatherly  love 
afflictions  come,  how  they  are  not  only  moderated  but  sweetened  and  sancti- 
fied in  the  issue  to  us,  how  can  it  but  minister  matter  of  comfort  ia  tho 
greatest  seeming  discomforts  ?  How  then  can  we  let  the  reias  of  our  affec- 
tions loose  to  sorrow  without  being  injurious  to  God  and  his  providence  ? 
as  if  we  would  teach  him  how  to  govern  his  church. 

What  unthankfulness  is  it  to  forget  our  consolation,  and  to  look  only 
upon  matter  of  grievance !  to  think  so  much  upon  two  or  three  crosses,  as 
to  forget  a  hundred  blessings  !  to  suck  poison  out  of  that  from  which  we 
should  suck  honey  !  What  folly  is  it  to  straiten  and  darken  our  own 
spirits  !  and  indispose  ourselves  from  doing  or  taking  good  !  A  limb  out 
of  joint  can  do  nothing  without  deformity  and  pain ;  dejection  takes  off  the 
wheels  of  the  soul. 

Of  all  other,  Satan  hath  most  advantage  of  discontented  persons,  as  most 
agreeable  to  his  disposition,  being  the  most  discontented  creature  under 
heaven  ;  he  hammers  aU  his  dark  plots  in  their  brains.  The  discontent- 
ment of  the  Israelites  in  the  wilderness  provoked  God  to  *  swear  that  they 
should  never  enter  into  his  rest,'  Ps,  xcv.  11.  There  is  *  another  spirit  in 
my  servant  Caleb,'  saith  God,  Num.  xiv.  24.  The  spirit  of  God's  people  is  an 
encouraging  spirit.  Wisdom  teaches  them,  if  they  feel  any  grievances,  to 
conceal  them  from  others  that  are  weaker,  lest  they  be  disheartened.  God 
threatens  it  as  a  curse  to  give  a  trembling  heart,  and  sorrow  of  mind,  Deut. 
xxviii.  65  ;  whereas  on  the  contrary,  joy  is  as  oil  to  the  soul,  it  makes  duties 
come  off  cheerfully  and  sweetly  from  ourselves,  graciously  to  others,  and 
acceptably  to  God.  A  prince  cannot  endure  it  in  his  subjects,  nor  a  father 
in  his  childi-en,  to  be  lowering  at  their  presence.  Such  usually  have  stolen 
waters,  Prov.  ix  17,  to  delight  themselves  in. 

How  many  are  there,  that  upon  the  disgrace  that  follows  religion,  are 
frighted  from  it  ?  But  what  are  discouragements,  to  the  encouragements 
religion  brings  with  it  ?  which  are  such  as  the  very  angels  themselves  ad- 
mire at.  Religion  indeed  brings  crosses  with  it,  but  then  it  brings  com- 
forts above  those  crosses.  What  a  dishonour  is  it  to  religion  to  conceive 
that  God  will  not  maintain  and  honour  his  followers  ;  as  if  his  service  were 
not  the  best  service  !  what  a  shame  is  it  for  an  heir  of  heaven  to  be  cast 
down  for  every  petty  loss  and  cross  !  to  be  afraid  of  a  man  whose  breath 
is  in  his  nostrils,  Isa.  ii.  22,  in  not  standing  to  a  good  cause,  when  we  are  sure 
God  wiU  stand  by  us,  assisting  and  comforting  us,  whose  presence  is  able  to 
make  the  greatest  torments  sweet !  Tua  presentia,  Domine,  Laurentio  ipsam 
craticulam  dulcevi  fecit. 

My  discom-se  tends  not  to  take  men  off  from  all  grief  and  mourning  ; 
*  Light  for  the  righteous  is  sown  in  sorrow,'  Ps.  xcvii.  11.  Our  state  of 
absence  fr-om  the  Lord,  and  Uving  here  in  a  vale  of  tears,  our  daily  infirmi- 
ties, and  our  sympathy  with  others,  requires  it ;  and  where  most  grace  is 
there  is  most  sensibleness,  as  in  Christ.  But  we  must  distinguish  between 
grief  and  that  sullenness  and  dejection  of  spirit,  which  is  with  a  repining 
and  taking  off  from  duty.  When  Joshua  was  overmuch  cast  down  at  Israel's 
turning  their  backs  before  their  enemies,  God  reproves  him,  '  Get  thee  up, 
Joshua,  why  liest  thou  upon  thy  face?'  Josh.  vii.  10. 

Some  would  have  men,  after  the  committing  of  gross  sins,  to  be  presently 
comfortable,  and  believe,  without  humbling  themselves  at  all.     Indeed, 


124  TO  THE  CHEISTIAN  EEADEE. 

when  we  are  once  in  Ckrist,  we  ought  not  to  question  our  state  in  him,  and 
if  we  do,  it  comes  not  from  the  Spirit ;  but  yet  a  guilty  conscience  will  be 
clamorous  and  full  of  objections,  and  God  will  not  speak  peace  unto  it  till 
it  be  humbled.  God  will  let  his  best  children  know  what  it  is  to  be  too 
bold  with  sia,  as  we  see  in  David  and  Peter,  who  felt  no  peace  till  they  had 
renewed  their  repentance.  The  way  to  rejoice  '  with  joy  unspeakable  and 
glorious,'  1  Pet.  i.  8,  is  to  stir  up  sighs  '  that  cannot  be  uttered,'  Rom. 
viii.  26.  And  it  is  so  far,  that  the  knowledge  of  our  state  in  grace  should 
not  humble  us,  that  very  ingenuity  considering  God's  love  to  us,  out  of  the 
nature  of  the  thing  itself,  worketh  sorrow  and  shame  in  us,  to  ojffend  his 
Majesty. 

One  main  stop  that  hinders  Christians  from  rejoicing  is,  that  they  give 
themselves  too  much  liberty  to  question  their  grounds  of  comfort  and  inte- 
rest in  the  promises.  This  is  wonderful,  comfortable  say  they,  but  what  is 
it  to  me,  the  promise  belongs  not  to  me  ?  This  ariseth  from  want  of  giv- 
ing aU  '  diligence  to  make  their  calling  sm-e,'  2  Pet.  i.  10,  to  themselves. 
In  watchfulness  and  diligence  we  sooner  meet  with  comfort  than  in  idle 
complaining.  Our  care,  therefore,  should  be  to  get  sound  evidence  of  a 
good  estate,  and  then  hkewise  to  keep  our  evidence  clear  ;  wherein  we  are 
not  to  hearken  to  our  own  fears  and  doubts,  or  the  suggestion  of  our  enemy, 
who  studies  to  falsify  our  evidence,  but  to  the  word,  and  our  own  consciences 
enUghtened  by  the  Spirit ;  and  then  it  is  pride  and  pettishness  to  stand  out 
against  comfort  to  themselves.  Christians  should  study  to  corroborate  their 
title.  We  are  never  more  in  heaven,  before  we  come  thither,  than  when 
we  can  read  our  evidences.  It  makes  us  converse  much  with  God,  it 
sweetens  all  conditions,  and  makes  us  wilUng  to  do  and  suffer  anything. 
It  makes  us  have  comfortable  and  honourable  thoughts  of  om'selves,  as  too 
good  for  the  service  of  any  base  lust,  and  brings  confidence  in  God  both  in 
life  and  death. 

But  what  if  our  condition  be  so  dark  that  we  cannot  read  our  evidence 
ataU? 

Here  look  up  to  God's  infinite  mercy  in  Christ,  as  we  did  at  the  first, 
when  we  found  no  goodness  in  ourselves,  and  that  is  the  way  to  recover 
whatsoever  we  think  we  have  lost.  By  honouring  God's  mercy  in  Christ, 
we  come  to  have  the  Spirit  of  Christ ;  therefore,  when  the  waters  of  sancti- 
fication  are  troubled  and  muddy,  let  us  nm  to  the  witness  of  blood.  God 
seems  to  walk  sometimes  contrary  to  himself ;  he  seems  to  discourage,  when 
secretly  he  doth  encourage,  as  the  '  woman  of  Canaan,'  Matt.  xv.  21-23 ; 
but  faith  can  find  out  these  ways  of  God,  and  untie  these  knots,  by  looking 
to  the  free  promise  and  merciful  natm-e  of  God.  Let  our  sottish  and  rebel- 
lious flesh  murmur  as  much  as  it  will.  Who  art  thou  ?  and  what  is  thy  worth  ? 
yet  a  Christian  '  knows  whom  he  believes,'  2  Tim.  i.  12.  Faith  hath 
learned  to  set  God  against  all. 

Again,  we  must  go  on  to  add  grace  to  grace.  A  growing  and  fruitful 
Christian  is  always  a  comfortable  Christian ;  the  oil  of  grace  brings  forth 
the  oil  of  gladness.  Chiist  is  first  a  king  of  righteousness,  and  then  a  king 
of  peace,  Heb.  vii.  2  ;  the  righteousness  that  he  works  by  his  Spirit  brings 
a  peace  of  sanctification,  whereby  though  we  are  not  freed  from  sin,  yet  we 
are  enabled  to  combat  with  it,  and  to  get  the  victory  over  it.  Some  degree 
of  comfort  follows  every  good  action,  as  heat  accompanies  fire,  and  as  beams 
and  influences  issue  from  the  sun ;  which  is  so  true,  that  very  heathens, 
upon  the  discharge  of  a  good  conscience,  have  found  comfort  and  peace 
answerable ;  this  is  a  reward  before  our  reward,  prcumimti  ante pramium. 


TO  THE  CHEISTIAN  EEADEE.  125 

Anotlier  thing  that  hinders  the  comfort  of  Christians  is,  that  they  forget 
what  a  gracious  and  merciful  covenant  they  live  under,  wherein  the  perfec- 
tion that  is  required  is  to  be  found  in  Christ.  Perfection  in  us  is  sincerity; 
what  is  the  end  of  faith  but  to  bring  us  to  Christ  ?  Now  imperfect  faith,  if 
sincere,  knits  us*  to  Christ,  in  whom  our  perfection  lies. 

God's  design  in  the  covenant  of  grace  is  to  exalt  the  riches  of  his  mercy 
above  all  sin  and  unworthiness  of  man ;  and  we  yield  him  more  giory  of  his 
mercy  by  believing,  than  it  would  be  to  his  justice  to  destroy  us.  If  we 
were  perfect  in  ourselves,  we  should  not  honour  him  so  much,  as  when  we 
labour  to  be  found  in  Christ,  having  his  righteousness  upon  us,  Philip,  iii.  9. 
There  is  no  one  portion  of  Scripture  oftener  used  to  fetch  up  drooping 
spirits  than  this  :  '  Why  an  thou  cast  down,  0  my  soul  ? '  It  is  figurative, 
and  full  of  rhetoric,  and  all  Uttle  enough  to  persuade  the  perplexed  soul 
quietly  to  trust  in  God;  which,  without  this  retiring  into  ourselves  and 
checking  our  hearts,  will  never  be  brought  to  pass.  Chrysostom  brings  in 
a  man  loaden  with  troubles,  coming  into  the  church,  where,  when  he  heard 
this  passage  read,  he  presently  recovered  himself,  and  becomes  another  man, 
(Homil.  in  Genes,  xxix.).  As  David,  therefore,  did  acquaint  himself  with 
this  form  of  deaUng  with  his  soul,  so  let  us,  demanding  a  reason  of  our- 
selves, Why  we  are  cast  down ;  which  will  at  least  check  and  put  a  stop  to 
the  distress,  and  make  us  fit  to  consider  more  solid  grounds  of  true  comfort. 
Of  necessity  the  soul  must  be  something  cahned  and  stayed  before  it  can 
be  comforted.  _  Whilst  the  humours  of  the  body  rage  in  a  great  distemper, 
there  is  no  giving  of  physic ;  so  when  the  soul  gives  way  to  passion,  it  is 
unfit  to  entertain  any  counsel,  therefore  it  must  be  stilled  by  degrees,  that 
it  may  hear  reason;  and  sometimes  it  is  fitter  to  be  moved  with  ordinary 
reason  (as  being  more  famihar  unto  it),  than  with  higher  reasons  fetched 
from^  our  supernatural  condition  in  Christ,  as  from  the  condition  of 
man's  nature  subject  to  changes,  from  the  uncomeHness  of  yielding  to  pas- 
sion for  that  which  it  is  not  in  our  power  to  mend,  &c. ;  these  and  such 
like  reasons  have  some  use  to  stay  the  fit  for  a  while,  but  they  leave  the 
core  untouched,  which  is  sin,  the  trouble  of  aU  troubles.  Yet  when  such 
considerations  are  made  spiritual  by  faith  on  higher  grounds,  they  have 
some  operation  upon  the  soul,  as  the  influence  of  the  moon  having  the 
stronger  influence  of  the  sun  mingled  with  it  becomes  more  effectual  upon 
these  inferior  bodies.  A  candle  hght  being  ready  at  hand  is  sometimes  as 
useful  as  the  sun  itself. 

But  our  main  care  should  be  to  have  evangehcal  grounds  of  comfort  near 
to  us,  as  reconciliation  with  God,  whereby  all  things  else  are  reconciled  to 
us,  adoption  and  communion  with  Christ,  &c,,  which  is  never  sweeter  than 
under  the  cross.  Philip  Lansgrave  of  Hesse,  being  a  long  time  prisoner 
under  Charles  the  Fifth,  was  demanded  what  upheld  him  all  that  time  ? 
who  answered  that  *  he  felt  the  divine  comfort  of  the  martyrs.'  Respondit 
divinas  consolationes  martyrum  se  sensisse.  There  be  divine  comforts  which 
are  felt  under  the  cross,  and  not  at  other  times. 

Besides  personal  troubles,  there  are  many  much  dejected  with  the  pre- 
sent state  of  the  church,  seeing  the  blood  of  so  many  saints  to  be  shed,  and 
the  enemies  oft  to  prevail;  but  God  hath  stratagems,  as  Joshua  at  Ai,  Josh, 
vii.  He  seems  sometimes  to  retire,  that  he  may  come  upon  his  enemies 
with  the  greater  advantage.  The  end  of  all  these  troubles  will  no  doubt 
be  the  ruin  of  the  antichristian  faction ;  and  we  shall  see  the  church  in  her 
more  perfect  beauty  when  the  enemies  shall  be  in  that  place  which  is  fittest 
*  '  Us,'  omitted  in  C. 


126  TO  THK  CHEISTUN  READER. 

for  them,  the  lowest,  that  is,  the  footstool  of  Christ,  Ps.  ex.  1.  The  church, 
as  it  is  highest  in  the  favour  of  God,  so  it  shall  be  the  highest  in  itself. 
^  The  mountain  of  the  Lord  shall  be  exalted  above  all  mountains,'  Isa.  ii.  2. 
In  the  worst  condition,  the  chm-ch  hath  two  faces,  one  towards  heaven  and 
Christ,  which  is  always  constant  and  glorious  ;  another  towards  the  world, 
which  is  in  appearance  contemptible  and  changeable.  But  God  will  in  the 
end  give  her  beauty  for  ashes,  and  glory  double  to  her  shame,  Isa.  Ixi.  3, 
and  she  shall  in  the  end  prevail ;  in  the  mean  time,  the  power  of  the  ene- 
mies is  in  God's  hand,  robur  hostium  apud  Deum.  The  church  of  God  con- 
quers when  it  is  conquered,  even  as  our  head  Christ  did,  who  overcame  by 
patience  as  well  as  by  power.  Christ's  victory  was  upon  the  cross.  The 
spirit  of  a  Christian  conquers  when  his  person  is  conquered. 

The  way  is,  instead  of  discouragement,  to  search  aU  the  promises  made 
to  the  church  in  these  latter  times,  and  to  turn  them  into  prayers,  and  press 
God  earnestly  for  the  performance  of  them.  Then  we  shall  soon  find  God 
both  cursing  his  enemies  and  blessing  his  people  out  of  Zion,  by  the  faith- 
ful prayers  that  ascend  up  from  thence. 

In  all  the  promises  we  should  have  special  recourse  to  God  in  them.  In  all 
storms  there  is  sea  room  enough  in  the  infinite  goodness  of  God  for  faith  to 
be  carried  with  full  sail. 

And  it  must  be  remembered  that  in  aU  places  where  God  is  mentioned, 
we  are  to  understand  God  in  the  promised  Messiah,  typified  out  so  many 
ways  unto  us.  And  to  put  the  more  vigour  into  such  places  in  the  reading 
of  them,  we  in  this  latter  age  of  the  church  must  think  of  God  shining  upon 
us  in  the  face  of  Christ,  and  our  Father  in  him.  If  they  had  so  much  con- 
fidence in  so  httle  Ught,  it  is  a  shame  for  us  not  to  be  confident  in  good 
things,  when  so  strong  a  Ught  shines  round  about  us,  when  we  profess  we 
believe  '  a  crovra  of  righteousness  is  laid  up  for  all  those  that  love  his  ap- 
pearing,' 2  Tim.  iv.  8.  Presenting  these  things  to  the  soul  by  faith,  setteth 
the  soul  in  such  a  pitch  of  resolution,  that  no  discoui'agements  are  able  to 
seize  upon  it.  '  We  faint  not,'  saith  St  Paul.  Wherefore  doth  he  not 
faint  ?  Because  '  these  hght  and  short  afflictions  procure  an  exceeding 
weight  of  glory,'  2  Cor.  iv.  17. 

Luther,  when  he  saw  Melancthon,  a  godly  and  learned  man,  too  much 
dejected  for  the  state  of  the  church  in  those  times,  falls  a  chiding  of  him, 
as  David  doth  here  his  own  soul:  '  I  strongly  hate  those  miserable  cares,' 
saith  he,  '  whereby  thou  writest  thou  art  even  spent.  It  is  not  the  great- 
ness of  the  cause,  but  the  greatness  of  our  increduhty.  If  the  cause  be 
false,  let  us  revoke  it.  If  true,  why  do  we  make  God  in  his  rich  promises 
a  liar  ?  Strive  against  thyself,  the  greatest  enemy.  Why  do  we  fear  the 
conquered  world,  that  have  the  conqueror  himself  on  our  side  ? '  '  Ego 
miserrimas  euros,  quibus  te  consumi  scribis,  vehementer  odi.  Quod  sic  regnant 
in  corde  tuo,  non  est  magnitudo  causoe,  sed  magnitudo  incredulitatis  nostra. 
Si  cama  falsa  est  revocemus.  Si  vera,  cur  facimus  ilium  tantis  promissis  men- 
dacem;  luctare  contra  teipsum  maximum  hostem.'^ 

Now,  to  speak  something  concerning  the  publishing  of  this  treatise.  I 
began  to  preach  on  the  text  about  twelve  years  since  in  the  city,  and  after- 
wards finished  the  same  at  Gray's  Inn.  After  which,  some  having  gotten 
imperfect  notes,  endeavoured  to  pubUsh  them  without  my  privity.  There- 
fore, to  do  myself  right,  I  thought  fit  to  reduce  them  to  this  form.     There 

*  These  remarkable  words  of  a  remarkable  man  are  found  in  letters  addressed  to 
Melancthon  during  the  Diet  of  Augsburg,  a.d.  1530.  They  are  effectively  quoted  by 
D'Aubigne,  Hist,  of  Reformation,  b.  xiv.,  §  x.,  c.  6.— G. 


TO  THE  CHRISTIAN  READER.  127 

is  a  pious  and  studious  gentleman  of  Gray's  Inn,  that  hath  of  late  published 
observations  upon  the  whole  psalm,*  and  another  upon  this  very  versef  very 
well ;  and  many  others,  by  treatises  of  faith,|  and  such  like,  have  furthered 
thespu-itual  peace  of  Christians  much.  It  were  to  be  wished  that  we  would 
all  join  to  do  that  which  the  apostles  gloried  in,  '  to  be  helpers  of  the  joy  of 
God's  people,'  2  Cor.  i.  24.  By  reason  of  my  absence  while  the  work  was 
m  prmtmg,  some  sentences  were  mistaken.  Some  will  be  ready  to  deprave 
the  labours  of  other  men ;  but,  so  good  may  be  done,  let  such  ill-disposed 
persons  be  what  they  are,  and  what  they  will  be,  unless  God  turn  their 
hearts.     And  so  I  commend  thee  and  this  poor  treatise  to  God's  blessing. 

R.  SIBBES. 
Geay's  Inn,  July  1,  1635. 

.o!  'J^}"^?  Pf^l"?-'  ^^'^  probably  refers  to  William  Bloy's  'Meditations  on  the 
42a  Psalm.      1632. 

t  '  Very  verse  '  Query,  Dr  John  Reading's  'David's  Soliloquy ;  being  the  Sub- 
stance of  beveral  Sermons  on  Psalm  xlii.  11.     1630?' 

t  'Faith.'  Sibhes  had  himself  prefaced  Ball,  and  Preston,  and  Culverwell  on 
•  Faith.' 

*^«  Sir  Egerton  Brydges,  in  his  Eestituta,  iii.  p.  500,  has  this  note  :— '  One  of 
ttiese  (on  'Faith  '),  was  written  by  the  Eev.  John  Eogers,  minister  of  Dedham  in 
iljssex ;  but  I  cannot  point  out  the  two  writers  previously  alluded  to.'  G 


\ 


IN  OPUS  POSTHUMUM  ADMODUM  EEYEEENDI 

MIHIQUE  MTJLTIS  NOMINIBUS  COLENDI, 

KICHARDI  SIBBES,  S.  T.  PKOFESSORIS,  AUL^ 

SANCT^.  CATH.  PE^FECTI  DIGNISSIMI. 

Vade,  liber,  pie  dux  animse,  pie  mentis  Achates  • 

Te  relegens,  fructu  ne  pereunte  legat ; 
Quam  foelix  prodis  !  Prse  sacro  codice  sordent, 

Bartole,  sive  tui ;  sive,  Galene,  tui. 

Fidu  praeco  Dei,  eoelestis  cultor  agelli, 

Assidui  pretium  grande  laboris  habet : 
Quo  mihi  nee  vita  melior,  nee  promptior  ore, 

Gratior  aut  vultu,  nee  fuit  arte  prior. 

Nil  opus  ut  nardum  caro  combibat  uncta  Sabseum, 

Altave  marmoreus  sydera  tangat  apex : 
Non  eget  hie  urna.  non  marmore  ;  nempe  volumen 

Stat  sacrum,  vivax  marmor,  et  urna,  pio. 

Qui  Christo  vivens  incessit  tramite  cceli, 

jEthereumque  obiit  munus,  obire  nequit : 
Ducit  hie  angelicis  sequalia  saecula  lustris, 

Qui  verbo  studium  contulit  omne  suum. 

Perlegat  hunc  legum  cultrix  veneranda  senectus, 

Et  quos  plena  Deo  mens  super  astra  vehit : 
Venduntur  (quanti!)  circum  palatiafumi! 

Hie  sacer  altaris  carbo  minoris  erit  ? 

Heu !  pietas  ubi  prisca  ?  profana  6  tempora !  mundi 
Fsex !  vesper !  prope  nox  !  6  mora  !  Christe  veni. 

Si  valuere  preces  unquam,  et  custodia  Christi, 
Nunc  opus  est  precibus,  nunc  ope,  Christe,  tua. 

Certat  in  humanis  vitiorum  infamia  rebus, 

Hei  mihi !  nulla  novis  sufficit  herba  mails  ? 
Probra  referre  pudet ;  nee  enim  decet :  exprobret  ilia 

Qui  volet ;  est  nostrum  flere,  silendo  queri. 

Flere  ?  Tonabo  tuas,  pietas  neglecta,  querelas : 
Quid  non  schisma,  tepor,  fastus,  et  astus  agunt  ? 

Addo — Bed  historicus  Tacitus  fuit  optimus.     Immo 
Addam — sphserarum  at  musica  muta  placet. 

Edv.  Benlosio.* 

OEESSINGiE  TeMPLAEIORUM, 

Prid.  Cal.  Febr.  MDCXXxv.t 

*  Edward  Benlowes,  Esq.  He  wasof  Brenthall.  Essex.  Consult  Brydges's  Resti- 
tuta,  iii.  41,  42  ;  and  Wood's  Fasti  Oxon.  (ed.  by  Bliss),  ii.  358.  His  principal  book 
i.s  his  '  Theophila.'  Samuel  Butler,  Pope,  and  Bishop  Warburton.  have  satirized  his 
poetry.  It  is  to  be  feared  his  tribute  to  Sibbes  will  not  neutralize  the  general  con- 
demnation. He  was  a  good  man,  and  the  friend  of  good  men,  to  his  own  impover- 
ishment. 

t  Sibbes  died  July  5.  1635,  and  yet  this  poem,  dated  '  February  1635,'  is  in  memo- 
riam.  The  explanation  is  that  prior  to  1752,  the  year  in  England  was  reckoned  not 
from  1st  January,  but  from  25th  March.  All  those  days,  therefore,  intervening 
between  the  31st  of  December  and  the  25th  of  March,  which  we  should  now  date  as 
belonging  to  a  particular  year,  were  then  dated  as  belonging  to  the  year  preceding 
that.  Hence  while  Benlowes  wrote  according  to  our  reckoning  in  1636,  he  still 
dates  1635.  G. 


I 


ON  THE  WOEK  OF  MY  LEAENED  FEIEND 
DOCTOE  SIBBES. 

I'ooL  that  i  was !  to  think  my  easy  pen 

Had  strength  enough  to  glorify  the  fame 

Of  this  known  author,  this  rare  man  of  men, 

Or  give  the  least  advantage  to  his  name. 

Who  think  by  praise  to  make  his  name  more  brlph^ 
Shew  the  sun's  glory  by  dull  candle-light.* 

Blest  saint !  thy  hallow'd  pages  do  require 
No  slight  preferment  from  our  slender  lays ; 
We  stand  amazed  at  what  we  most  admire : 
Ah,  what  are  saints  the  better  for  our  praise  ! 
He  that  commends  this  volume  does  no  more 
Than  warm  the  fire  or  gild  the  massy  ore.* 

Let  me  stand  silent,  then.     0  may  that  Spirit 
Which  led  thine  hand  direct  mine  eye,  my  breast, 
That  I  may  read  and  do,  and  so  inherit 
(What  thou  enjoy'st  and  taught'st)  eternal  rest ! 
Fool  that  I  was !  to  think  my  lines  could  give 
Life  to  that  work,  by  which  they  hope  to  live. 

rKA[NCIS]  QuA[ELES].t 


*  Sir  Egerton  Brydges,  in  his  Restituta,  annotates  here. — '  This  is  much  in  unison 
with  Shakespeare's  thought : — 

"  To  gild  refined  gold,  to  paint  the  lily. 
To  seek  the  beauteous  eye  of  heaven  to  garnish. 
Is  wasteful  and  ridiculous  excess."  ' 
Aristotle  might  haply  here  have  been  introduced  by  the  Commentators,  e.  g.,  '  They 
who  demonstrate  plain  things,  light  a  candle  to  see  the  sun,'  iii.  p.  499. 

t  Francis  Quarles.  There  is  no  doubt  that  this  was  the  quaint  poet  of  the  Em- 
blems,' and  many  other  volumes  not  so  well  known  as  they  deserve  to  be.  It  was 
common  to  contract  names  thus,  formerly.  The  '  Garden  of  Spiritual  Flowers,' 
(1622)  is  worded  on  title-page,  'A  Garden  of  Spirituall  Flowers,  planted  by  Ri.  Eo., 
Will.  Per.,  Ri.  Gree.,  M.  M.,  and  Geo.  Web.,'  designating  severally,  Richard  Rogers, 
William  Perkins,  Richard  Greene,  &c.,  &c.,  and  so  in  many  other  instances.      G 


VOL.  I. 


THE  SOUL'S  CONFLICT  VYITH  ITSELF. 


Why  art  thou  cast  down,  0  my  soul?  and  why  art  thou  disquieted  within 
me  ?  hope  thou  in  God ;  for  I  shall  yet  praise  him,  who  is  the  health  of 
my  countenance,  and  my  God. — Psalm  XLII.  11. 

The  Psalms  are,  as  it  were,  the  anatomy  of  a  holy  man,  which  lay  the 
inside  of  a  truly  devout  man  outward  to  the  view  of  others.  If  the  Scrip- 
tures be  compared  to  a  body,  the  Psalms  may  well  be  the  heart,  they  are 
so  full  of  sweet  affections  and  passions.  For  in  other  portions  of  Scripture 
God  speaks  to  us ;  but  in  the  Psalms  holy  men  speak  to  God  and  their 
own  hearts,  as 

In  this  Psahn  we  have  the  passionate  passages  of  a  broken  and  troubled 
spirit. 

At  this  time  David  was  a  banished  man,  banished  from  his  own  house, 
from  his  friends,  and,  which  troubled  him  most,  from  the  house  of  God, 
upon  occasion  of  Saul's  persecution,  who  hunted  him  as  a  partridge  upon 
the  mountains.     See  how  this  works  upon  him. 

1.  He  lays  open  his  desire  springing  from  his  love;  love  being  the  prime 
and  leading  affection  of  the  soul,  from  whence  grief  springs,  from  being 
crossed  in  that  we  love.  For  the  setting  out  of  which  his  affection  to  the 
full,  he  borroweth  an  expression  from  the  hart.  No  hart,  being  chased  by 
the  hunters,  panteth  more  after  the  waters  than  my  heart  doth  after  thee, 
0  God,  ver.  1.  Though  he  found  God  present  with  him  in  exile,  yet  there 
is  a  sweeter  presence  of  him  in  his  ordinances,  which  now  he  wanted  and 
took  to  heart.  Places  and  conditions  are  happy  or  miserable  as  God  vouch- 
safeth  his  gracious  presence  more  or  less  ;  and,  therefore,  *  When,  0  when 
shall  it  be  that  I  appear  before  God?'  ver.  2. 

2.  Then,  after  his  strong  desire,  he  lays  out  his  grief,  which  he  could  not 
contain,  but  must  needs  give  a  vent  to  it  in  tears ;  and  he  had  such  a 
spring  of  grief  in  him  as  fed  his  tears  day  and  night,  ver.  3.  All  the  ease 
he  found  was  to  dissolve  this  cloud  of  grief  into  the  shower  of  tears. 

Quest.  But  why  gives  he  this  way  to  his  grief? 

Ans.  Because,  together  with  his  exiling  from  God's  house,  he  was  up- 
braided by  his  enemies  with  his  religion,  '  Where  is  now  thy  God  ?'  ver.  3. 
Grievances  come  not  alone,  but,  as  Job's  messengers.  Job  i.,  follow  one 
another.  These  bitter  taunts,  together  with  the  remembrance  of  his  former 
happiness  in  communion  with  God  in  his  house,  made  deep  impressions  in 


THE  SOITl's  conflict.     '  181 

his  soul,  when  he  *  remembered  how  he  went  with  the  multitude  into  the 
house  of  God,'  ver.  4,  and  led  a  goodly  train  with  him,  being  willing,  as  a 
good  magistrate  and  master  of  a  family,  not  to  go  to  the  house  of  God  alone, 
nor  to  heaven  alone,  but  to  carry  as  many  as  he  could  with  him.  Oh  !  the 
remembrance  of  this  made  him  pour  forth,  not  his  words  or  his  tears  only, 
but  his  very  soul.  Former  favours  and  happiness  make  the  soul  more 
sensible  of  aU  impressions  to  the  contrary.  Hereupon,  finding  his  soul 
over  sensible,  he  expostulates  with  himself,  '  Why  art  thou  cast  down, 
0  my  soul  ?  and  why  art  thou  disquieted  within  me  ? '  &c. 

But  though  the  remembrance  of  the  former  sweetness  of  God's  presence 
did  somewhat  stay  him,  yet  his  grief  would  not  so  be  stilled,  and  therefore 
it  gathers  upon  him  again.  One  grief  called  upon  another,  ver.  7,  as 
one  deep  wave  follows  another,  without  intermission,  until  his  soul  was 
almost  overwhelmed  under  these  waters ;  yet  he  recovers  himself  a  little 
with  looking  up  to  God,  who  he  expected  would  with  speed  and  authority 
send  forth  his  lovingkindness,  with  command  to  raise  him  up  and  comfort 
him,  and  give  him  matter  of  '  songs  in  the  night,'  ver.  8.  For  all  this,  his 
unruly  grief  will  not  be  calmed,  but  renews  assaults  upon  the  return  of  the 
reproach  of  ma  enemies.  Their  words  were  as  swords,  ver.  10,  unto  him, 
and  his  heart  being  made  very  tender  and  sensible  of  grief,  these  sharp 
words  enter  too  deep ;  and  thereupon  he  hath  recourse  to  his  former 
remedy,  as  being  the  most  tried,  to  chide  his  soul,  and  charge  it  to  trust 
in  God. 

Chapter  I. — General  Observations  upon  the  Text. 

Obs.  1.  Hence  in  general  we  may  observe  that  gnef  gathered  to  a  head 
xcill  not  be  quieted  at  the  first.  We  see  here  passions  intermingled  with 
comforts,  and  comforts  with  passions ;  and  what  bustling  there  is  before 
David  can  get  the  victoiy  over  his  own  heart.  You  have  some  short- 
spirited  Christians  that,  if  they  be  not  comforted  at  the  first,  they  think  all 
labour  with  their  hearts  is  in  vain,  and  thereupon  give  way  to  their  grief. 
But  we  see  in  David,  as  distemper  ariseth  upon  distemper,  so  he  gives 
check  upon  check  and  charge  upon  charge  to  his  soul,  until  at  length  he 
brought  it  to  a  quiet  temper.  In  physic,  if  one  purge  will  not  carry  away 
the  vicious  humour,  then  we  add  a  second ;  if  that  wiU  not  do  it,  we  take 
a  third.  So  should  we  deal  with  our  souls.  Perhaps  one  check,  one 
charge  will  not  do  it,  then  fall  upon  the  soul  again ;  send  it  to  God  again, 
and  never  give  over  until  our  souls  be  possessed  of  our  souls  again. 

Again,  in  general  observe  in  David's  spu'it  that  a  gracious  and  living  soul 
is  most  sensible  of  the  ivant  of  sjjiritual  means. 

Reason.  The  reason  is  because  spiritual  life  hath  answerable  taste,  and 
hunger  and  thirst  after  spiritual  helps. 

We  see  in  nature  that  those  things  press  hardest  upon  it  that  touch  upon 
the  necessities  of  nature,  rather  than  those  that  touch  upon  delights  ;  for 
these  further  only  our  comfortable  being,  but  necessities  uphold  our  being 
itself,  acrius  urgent  quce  necessitatis  sunt,  quam  qua  sjjectant  ad  voluptatem. 
We  see  how  famine  wrought  upon  the  patriarchs  to  go  into  Egypt :  where 
we  may  see  what  to  judge  of  those  who  willingly  excommunicate  them- 
selves from  the  assemblies  of  God's  people,  where  the  Father,  Son,  and 
Holy  Ghost  are  present,  where  the  prayers  of  holy  men  meet  together  in 
one,  and,  as' it  were,  bind  God,  and  pull  down  God's  blessing.  No  private 
devotion  hath  that  report  of  acceptance  from  heaves- 


182  THE  soul's  conflict. 

Obs.  3.  A  third  general  point  is,  that  a  godly  soul,  by  reason  of  the  life 

of  grace,  knows  ivhen  it  is  well  ivith  it  and  when  it  is  ill,  ivJien  it  is  a  good  day 
ivith  it  and  ivhen  a  bad.  When  God  shines  in  the  use  of  means,  then  the 
soul  is,  as  it  were,  in  heaven ;  when  God  withdraws  himself,  then  it  is  in 
darkness  for  a  time.  Where  there  is  but  only  a  principle  of  nature,  without 
sanctifying  grace,  there  men  go  plodding  on  and  keep  their  rounds,  and  a-re 
at  the  end,  where  they  were  at  the  beginning ;  not  troubled  with  changes, 
because  there  is  nothing  within  to  be  troubled;  and,  therefore,  dead  means, 
quick  means,^or  no  means,  all  is  one  with  them,  an  argument  of  a  dead 
soul.  And- so  we  come  particularly  and  directly  to  the  words,  '  Why  art 
thou  cast  down,  0  my  soul  ?  and  why  art  thou  disquieted  within  me  ? '  &c. 

The  words  imply,  1,  David's  state  ivherein  he  was;  and  2,  express  his 
carriage  in  that  state. 

His  estate  was  such  that  in  regard  of  outward  condition,  he  was  in 
variety  of  troubles ;  and  that  in  regard  of  inward  disposition  of  spirit,  he  was 
first  cast  down,  and  then  disquieted. 

Now  for  his  carriage  of  himself  in  this  condition,  and  disposition,  he 
dealeth  roundly  with  himself.  David  reasoneth  the  case  with  David,  and 
fii-st  checketh  himself  for  being  too  much  cast  down,  and  then  for  being  too 
much  disquieted. 

And  then  layeth  a  charge  upon  himself  to  trust  in  God ;  wherein  we  have 
the  duty  he  chargeth  upon  himself,  which  is  to  trust  in  God,  and  the  grounds 
of  the  duty: 

First,  from  confidence  of  better  times  to  come,  which  would  yield  him 
matter  oi jwaising  Jjod. 

And  then  by  a  representation  of  God  unto  him,  as  a  saving  God  in  all 
troubles,  nay,  as  salvation  itself,  an  open  glorious  Saviour  in  the  view  of 
all,  The  salvation  of  my  countenance.  And  all  this  enforced  from  David's 
interest  in  God,  He  is  my  God. 

Obs.  1,  Whence  observe  fii'st,  from  the  state  he  was  now  in,  that  since 
gxdlt  and  corniptio7i  hath  been  derived  by  the  fall,  into  the  nature  of  man,  it 
hath  been  subjected  to  misery  and  sorrow,  and  that  in  all  conditions,  from  the 
king  that  sitteth  on  the  throne  to  him  that  grindeth  on  the  mill.  None  ever 
have*  been  so  good  or  so  great,  as  could  raise  themselves  so  high  as  to  be 
above  the  reach  of  troubles. 

1.  And  that  choice  part  of  mankind,  the  first-fi-uits  and  excellency  of  the 
rest,  which  we  call  the  church,  more  than  others ;  which  appears  by  con- 
sideration both  of  the  head,  the  body,  and  members  of  the  church.  For 
the  head  Christ,  he  took  om'  flesh  as  it  was  subject  to  misery  after  the  fall, 
and  was,  in  regard  of  that  which  he  endured,  both  in  life  and  death,  a  man 
of  sorrows. 

2.  For  the  body,  the  church,  it  may  say  from  the  first  to  the  last,  as  it  is, 
Ps.  cxxis.  1,  '  From  my  youth  up  they  have  afilicted  me.'  The  chm-ch  be- 
gan in  blood,  hath  grown  up  by  blood,  and  shall  end  in  blood,  as  it  was 
redeemed  by  blood. 

3.  For  the  members,  they  are  all  predestinated  to  a  conformity  to  Christ 
their  head,  as  in  grace  and  glory,  so  in  abasement,  Rom.  viii.  29.  Neither 
is  it  a  wonder  for  those  that  are  born  soldiers  to  meet  with  conflicts,  for 
travellers  to  meet  with  hard  usage,  for  seamen  to  meet  with  storms,  for 
strangers  in  a  strange  country,  especially  amongst  their  enemies,  to  meet 
with  strange  entertainment. 

A  Christian  is  a  man  of  another  world,  and  here  firom  home,  which  he 
«  '  Hath,'  in  C. 


i 


I 


THE  soul's  conflict.  133 

would  forget,  if  lie  were  not  exercised  here,  and  would  take  his  passage  for 
his  country.  But  though  all  Christians  agree  and  meet  in  this,  that '  through 
many  afflictions  we  must  enter  into  heaven,'  Acts  xiv.  22,  yet  according  to 
the  diversity  of  place,  parts,  and  grace,  there  is  a  different  cup  measured  to 
every  one. 

Use.  And  therefore  it  is  but  a  plea  of  the  flesh,  to  except  against  the 
cross,  '  never  was  poor  creature  distressed  as  I  am.'  This  is  but  self-love, 
for  was  it  not  the  case  both  of  head,  body,  and  members,  as  we  see  here 
in  David  a  principal  member  ?  when  he  was  brought  to  this  case,  thus  to 
reason  the  matter  with  himself,  *  Why  art  thou  cast  down,  0  my  soul  ?  and 
why  art  thou  disquieted  within  me  ? ' 

Obs.  2.  From  the  frame  of  David's  spirit  under  these  troubles,  we  may 
observe,  that  as  the  case  is  thus  with  all  God's  people,  to  be  exercised  with 
troubles,  they  are  sensible  of  them  oftentimes,  even  to  casting  down  and  dis- 
couraging. And  the  reason  is  (1) ,  they  are  flesh  and  blood,  subject  to  the  same 
passions,  and  made  of  the  same  mould,  subject  to  the  same  impressions 
from  without  as  other  men.  And  (2)  their  nature  is  upheld  with  the  same 
supports  and  refreshings  as  others,  the  withdrawing  and  want  of  which 
afiecteth  them.  And  (3)  besides  those  troubles  they  suffer  in  common  with 
other  men,  by  reason*  of  then*  new  advancement  and  their  new  disposition 
they  have  in  and  from  Christ  their  head,  they  are  more  sensible  in  a  pecu- 
liar manner  of  those  troubles  that  any  way  touch  upon  that  blessed  con- 
dition, from  a  new  Hfe  they  have  in  and  from  Christ ;  which  will  better  appear 
if  we  come  more  particularly  to  a  discovery  of  the  more  special  causes  of 
this  distemper,  some  of  which  are,  1.  Without  us.     2.  Some  within  us. 


Chapter  II. — Of  Discouragements  from  without. 

I.  Outivard  causes  of  discouragement. 

1.  God  himself:  who  sometimes  withdraws  the  beams  of  his  countenance 
from  his  children,  whereupon  the  soul  even  of  the  strongest  Christian  is 
disquieted ;  when  together  with  the  cross,  God  himself  seems  to  be  an  enemy 
unto  them.  The  child  of  God,  when  he  seeth  that  his  troubles  are  mixed 
with  God's  displeasure,  and  perhaps  his  conscience  teUs  him  that  God  hath 
a  just  quarrel  against  him,  because  he  hath  not  renewed  his  peace  with  his 
God,  then  this  anger  of  God  puts  a  sting  into  all  other  troubles,  and  adds  to 
the  disquiet.  There  were  sonie  ingredients  of  this  divine  temptation,  as  we 
call  it,  in  holy  David  at  this  tmie  ;  though  most  properly  a  divine  tempta- 
tion be,  when  God  appears  yinio  us  as  an  enemy,  without  any  special  guilt 
of  any  particular  sin,  as  in  Job's  case. 

And  no  marvel  if  Christians  be  from  hence  disquieted,  whenas  the  Son 
of  God  himself,  having  always  enjoyed  the  sweet  communion  with  his  Father, 
and  now  feeling  an  estrangement,  that  he  might  be  a  curse  for  us,  com- 
plained in  all  his  toirtnents  of  nothing  else,  but  '  My  God,  my  God,  why 
hast  thou  forsaken  me  ?  Matt,  xxvii.  46.  It  is  with  the  godly  in  this  case 
as  with  vapours  drawn  up  by  the  sun,  which,  when  the  extracting  force  of 
the  sun  leaves  them,  fall  down  again  to  the  earth  from  whence  they  are 
drawn.  So  when  the  soul,  raised  up  and  upheld  by  the  beams  of  his 
countenance,  is  left  of  God,  it  presently  begins  to  sink.  We  see  when  the 
body  of  the  sun  is  partly  hid  from  us,  for  totally  it  cannot,  in  an  eclipse  by 
the  body  of  the  moon,  that  there  is  a  drooping  in  the  whole  fi-ame  of  nature ; 
*  '  By  reason,'  added  in  B- 


134  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

BO  it  is  in  the  soul,  when  there  is  anything  that  comes  between  God's 
gracious  countenance  and  it. 
'  2.  Besides,  if  we  look  down  to  inferior  causes,  the  soul  is  oft  cast  down  by 
Satan,  who  is  all  for  casting  down,  and  for  disquieting.  For  being  a 
cursed  spirit,  cast  and  tumbled  down  himself  from  heaven,  where  he  is 
never  to  come  again,  [he]  is  hereupon  full  of  disquiet,  carrying  a  hell  about 
himself;  whereupon  all  that  he  labours  for  is  to  cast  down  and  disquiet  others, 
that  they  may  be,  as  much  as  he  can  procure,  in  the  same  cursed  condition  with 
himself.  He  was  not  ashamed  to  set  upon  Christ  himself  with  this  tempta- 
tion of  casting  down,  and  thinks  Christ's  members  never  low  enough,  till 
he  can  bring  them  as  low  as  himself. 

By  his  envy  and  subtUty  we  were  driven  out  of  paradise  at  the  first,  and 
now  he  envies  us  the  paradise  of  a  good  conscience ;  for  that  is  our  paradise 
untU  we  come  to  heaven,  into  which  no  serpent  shall  ever  creep  to  tempt 
us.  When  Satan  seeth  a  man  strongly  and  comfortably  walk  with  God, 
he  cannot  endure  that  a  creature  of  meaner  rank  by  creation  than  himself 
should  enjoy  such  happiness.  Herein,  like  some  peevish  men  which  are 
his  instruments,  men  too  contentious  and  bred  up  therein,  as  the  salaman- 
der in  the  fire,  who  when  they  know  the  cause  to  be  naught,  and  their  ad- 
versaries to  have  the  better  title,  yet,  out  of  malice,  they  will  follow  them  with 
suits  and  vexations,  though  they  be  not  able  to  disable  their  opposites'  title. 
If  their  malice  have  not  a  vent  in  hurting  some  way,  they  will  burst  for  anger. 

It  is  just  so  with  the  devil ;  when  he  seeth  men  will  to  heaven,  and  that 
they  have  good  title  to  it,  then  he  foUows  them  with  all  dejecting  and  un- 
corofortable  temptations  that  he  can.  It  is  his  continual  trade  and  course 
to  seek  his  rest  in  our  disquiet,  he  is  by  beaten  practice  and  profession  a 
tempter  in  this  kind. 

3.  Again,  what  Satan  cannot  do  himself  by  immediate  suggestions,  that  he 
labours  to  work  by  his  instruments,  who  are  all  for  casting  down  of  those  who 
stand  in  their  light,  as  those  in  the  psalm,  who  cry,  '  Down  with  him,  down 
with  him,  even  to  the  ground,'  Ps.  cxxxvii.  7  ;  a  character  and  stamp  of 
which  men's  dispositions  we  have  in  the  verse  before  this  text ;  '  Mine 
enemies,'  saith  David,  *  reproach  me.'  As  sweet  and  as  compassionate  a 
man  as  he  was,  to  pray  and  put  on  sackcloth  for  them,  Ps.  xxxv.  13,  yet 
he  had  enemies,' and  such  enemies,  as  did  not  sufier  their  malice  only  to 
boil  and  concoct  in  their  own  breasts,  but  out  of  the  abundance  of  their 
hearts,  they  reproached  him  in  words.  There  is  nothing  the  nature  of 
man  is  more  impatient  of  than  of  reproaches  ;  for  there  is  no  man  so  mean 
but  thinks  himself  worthy  of  some  regard,  and  a  reproachful  scorn  shews 
an  utter  disrespect,  which  issues  from  the  very  superfluity  of  malice. 

Neither  went  they  behind  his  back,  but  were  so  impudent  to  say  it  to  his 
face.  A  malicious  heart  and  a  slandering  tongue  go  together,  and  though 
shame  might  have  suppressed  the  uttering  of  such  words,  yet  their  insolent 
carriage  spake  as  much  in  David's  heart,  Ps.  xxxix.  1.  We  may  see  by  the 
language  of  men's  carriage  what  their  heart  saith,  and  what  their  tongue 
would  vent  if  they  dared. 

And  this  their  maUce  was  unwearied,  for  they  said  daily  unto  him,  as  if 
it  had  been  fed  with  a  continual  spring.  Malice  is  an  unsatiable  monster, 
it  will  minister  words,  as  rage  ministers  weapons.  But  what  was  that  they 
said  so  reproachfully,  and  said  daily  ?  '  Where  is  now  thy  God  ?  ver.  3. 
They  upbraid  him  with  his  singularity,  they  say  not  now,  Where  is  God, 
but  Where  is  thy  God,  that  thou  dost  boast  so  much  on,  as  if  thou  hadst 
some  special  interest  in  him  ?  where  we  see  that  the  scope  of  the  devH  and 


THE  soul's  conflict.  135 

wicked  men  is  to  shake  the  godly's  faith  and  confidence  in  their  God.  As 
Satan  laboured  to  divide  betwixt  Christ  and  his  Father,  *  If  thou  beest  the 
Son  of  God,  command  that  these  stones  be  made  bread,'  Matt.  iv.  3,  so  he 
labours  to  divide  betwixt  Father  and  Son  and  us.  They  labour  to  bring  God 
in  jealousy  with  David,  as  if  God  had  neglected  him  bearing  himself  so 
much  upon  God.  They  had  some  colour  of  this,  for  God  at  this  time  had 
vailed  himself  from  David,  as  he  does  oft  from  his  best  children,  for  the 
better  discovery  of  the  malice  of  wicked  men ;  and  doth  not  Satan  tip  the 
tongues  of  the  enemies  of  religion  now,  to  insult  over  the  church  now  lying 
a  bleeding  !*  What's  becomef  of  their  reformation,  of  their  gospel  ?  Nay, 
rather  what's  become  of  your  eyes,  we  may  say  unto  them  ?  For  God  is 
nearest  to  his  children  when  he  seems  farthest  off.  *  In  the  mount  of  the 
Lord  it  shall  be  seen,'  Gen.  xxii.  14  ;  God  is  with  them,  and  in  them,  though 
the  wicked  be  not  aware  of  it ;  it  is  aU  one,  as  if  one  shovdd  say  betwixt 
the  space  of  the  new  and  old  moon.  Where  is  now  the  moon  ?  whenas  it  is 
never  nearer  the  sun  than  at  that  time. 

Quest.  Where  is  now  thy  God  ? 

Ans.  In'heaven,  in  earth,  in  me,  everywhere  but  in  the  heart  of  such  as 
ask  such  questions,  and  yet  there  they  shaU.  find  him  too  in  his  time,  filling 
then-  consciences  with  his  wrath ;  and  then,  where  is  their  God  ?  where  are 
their  great  fi-iends,  their  riches,  their  honours,  which  they  set  up  as  a  god  ? 
what  can  they  avail  them  now  ? 

But  how  was  David  affected  with  these  reproaches  ?  Their  words  were 
as  swords,  '  as  with  a  sword  m  my  bones,'  &c.,  ver.  10,  they  spake  daggers 
to  him,  they  cut  him  to  the  quick  when  they  touched  him  in  his  God,  as  if 
he  had  neglected  his  servants,  whenas  the  devil  himself  regards  those  who 
serve  his  turn.  Touch  a  true  godly  man  in  his  rehgion,  and  you  touch  his 
life  and  his  best  freehold ;  he  Hves  more  in  his  God  than  in  himself ;  so 
that  we  may  see  here,  there  is  a  murder  of  the  tongue,  a  wounding  tongue 
as  well  as  a  heahng  tongue.  Men  think  themselves  fireed  from  murder  if 
they  kill  none,  or  if  they  shed  no  blood,  whereas  they  cut  others  to  the 
heart  with  bitter  words.  It  is  good  to  extend  the  commandment  to  awake 
the  conscience  the  more,  and  breed  humility,  when  men  see  there  is  a  mur- 
dering of  the  tongue.  We  see  David,  there^r'^j  "p^^  ^^^"  rppvnapbj  fn  ho, 
presently  so  moved,  as  "Eo^fall  6ut  wiTlThimself  for  it.  '  Why  art  thou  so 
cast  down  and  disquieted.  0  my  soul  ?'  This  bitter  taunt  ran  so  much  in 
his  mina,  tnit  he  expresseth  it  twice  in  this  psahn ;  he  was  sensible  that 
they  struck  at  God  thi'ough  his  sides  ;  what  they  spake  in  scorn  and  lightly, 
he  took  heavily.  And  indeed,  when  religion  suffers,  if  there  be  any  heavenly 
fii'e  in  the  heart,  it  wiU  rather  break  out,  than  not  discover  itself  at  all.  We 
see  by  daily  experience,  that  there  is  a  special  force  in  words  uttered  from 
a  subtle  head,  a  false  heart  and  a  smooth  tongue,  to  weaken  the  hearts  of 
professors,  by  bringing  an  evil  report  upon  the  strict  profession  of  rehgion ; 
as  the  cunning  and  false  spies  did  upon  the  good  land,  Num.  xiii,  27,  as  if  it 
were  not  only  in  vain,  but  dangerous  to  appear  for  Christ  in  evil  times.  If 
the  exampfe  of  such  as  have  faint  spirits  will  discom-age  in  an  army,  as  we 
see  in  Gideon's  history.  Judges  vii.,  then  what  wiU  speech  enforced  both  by 
example  and  with  some  show  of  reason  do  ? 

4.  To  let  others  pass,  wa  jiftp.d  mt  gr>  further  than  ourselypR,  fnr  In  finrl 
causes  ot  discouragement ;  there  is  a  seminary  of  them  vdthin  us.  Our 
Hesh,  an  enemy  yu  much  the  worse,  by  how  much  the  nearer,  will  be  ready 

*  This  was  preached  in  the  beginning  of  the  troubles  of  the  church.  [1623.     G.] 
t   '  What  becomes,' in  C. 


136  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

to  upbraid  us  within  us,  '  Where  is  now  thy  God  ?'  why  shouldst  thou  stand 
out  in  a  profession  that  finds  no  better  entertainment  ? 

Chapter  III. — Of  Discouragements  from  within. 

But  to  come  to  some  particular  causes  ivithin  us.  There  is  cause  oft 
in  the  body  of  those  in  whom  a  melancholy  temper  prevaileth.  Darkness 
makes  men  fearful.  Melancholy  persons .  are  in  a  perpetual  darkness,  all 
things  seem  black  and  dark  unto  them,  their  spirits,  as  it  were,  dyed  black. 
Now  to  him  that  is  in  darkness,  all  things  seem  black  and  dark  ;  the  sweetest 
comforts  are  not  lightsome  enough  unto  those  that  are  deep  in  melancholy. 
It  is,  without  great  watchfulness,  Satan's  bath  ;  which  he  abuseth  as  his  own 
weapon  to  hurt  the  soul,  which,  by  reason  of  its  sympathy  with  the  body, 
is  subject  to  be  misled.  As  we  see  where  there  is  a  suffusion  of  the  eye  by 
reason  of  distemper  of  humours,  or  where  things  are  presented  through  a 
glass  to  the  eye,  things  seem  to  be  of  the  same  colour ;  so  whatsoever  is 
presented  to  a  melancholy  person,  comes  in  a  dark  way  to  the  soul.  From 
whence  it  is  that  their  fancy  being  corrupted,  they  .judge  amiss,  eyen  of  out- 
ward things,  as  that  they  are  sick  of  such  and  such  a  disease,  or  subject  to 
such  and  such  a  danger,  when  it  is  nothing  so  ;  how  fit  are  they  then  to 
judge  of  things  removed  from  sense,  as  of  their  spiritual  estate  in  Christ  ? 

II.  Causes  privative,  of  discouragement  in  ourselves. 

1.  To  come  to  causes  more  near  the  soul  itself,  as  when  there  is  want  of 
that  which  should  be  in  it,  as  of  knnwlp.dgp.  in.  the  understanding,  &_c.  Ignor- 
ance, being  darkness,  is  full  of  false  fears.  In  the  night  time  men  think 
every  bush  a  thief.  Our  forefathers  in  time  of  ignorance  were  frighted  with 
everything ;  therefore  it  is  the  pohcy  of  popish  tyrants,  taught  them  from 
the  prince  of  darkness,  to  keep  the  people  in  darkness,  that  so  they  migh^ 
make  them  fearful,  and  then  abuse  that  fearfulness  to  superstition ;  that 
they  might  the  better  rule  in  their  consciences  for  their  own  ends ;  and 
that  so  having  entangled  them  with  false  fears,  they  might  heal  them  again 
with  false*  cures. 

2.  Again,  though  the  soul  be  not  ignorant,  yet  if  it  heforgetfid  and  mindless, 
if,  as  the  apostle  saith,  '  you  have  forgot  the  consolation  that  speaks  unto 
you,'  &c.,  Heb.  xii.  5.  We  have  no  more  present  actual  comfort  than  we 
have  remembrance  ;  help  a  godly  man's  memory,  and  help  his  comfort ;  hke 
unto  charcoal,  which,  having  once  been  kindled,  is  the  more  easy  to  take 
fire.  He  that  hath  formerly  known  things,  takes  ready  acquaintance  of 
them  again,  as  old  friends ;  things  are  not  strange  to  him. 

3.  And  further,  viant  of  setting  due  'price  upon  comforts ;  as  the  Israelites 
were  taxed  for  setting  nothing  by  the  pleasant  land.  It  is  a  great  fault 
when,  as  they  said  to  Job,  '  the  consolation  of  the  Almighty  seem  light  and 
email  unto  us,'  Job  sv.  11,  unless  we  have  some  outward  comfort  which  we 
linger  after. 

4.  Add  unto  this,  a  childish  kind  of  peevishness ;  when  they  have  not  what 
they  would  have,  Uke  children,  they  throw  away  aU ;  which,  though  it  be 
very  offensive  to  God's  Spirit,  yet  it  seizeth  often  upon  men  otherwise 
gracious.  Abraham  himself,  wanting  children.  Gen.  xv.  2,  undervalued  all 
other  blessings.  Jonah,  because  he  was  crossed  of  his  gourd,  was  weary  of 
his  life.  The  hke  may  be  said  of  Elias,  flying  from  Jezebel.  This  peevish- 
ness is  increased  by  a  too  much  flattering  of  their  grief,  so  far  as  to  justify 

*  '  False '  is  misprinted  '  safe  '  in  A  and  B      '  False,'  the  correction,  is  from  C 


THE  soul's  conflict.  137 

it ;  like  Jonas,  *  I  do  well  to  be  angry  even  unto  death,'  Jonah  iv.  9  ;  lie 
would  stand  to  it.  Some,  with  Rachel,  are  so  peremptory,  that  they  '  will 
not  be  comforted,'  Jer.  xxxi.  15,  as  if  they  were  in  love  with  their  griev- 
ances. Wilful  men  are  most  vexed  in  their  crosses.  It  is  not  for  those  to 
be  vsdlful  that  have  not  a  great  measure  of  wisdom  to  guide  their  wills  ;  for 
God  delights  to  have  his  will  of  those  that  are  wedded  to  their  own  wills, 
as  in  Pharaoh.  No  men  more  subject  to  discontentments  than  those  who 
would  have  all  things  after  their  own  way. 

5.  AgaiD,  one  maia  ground  is,  false  reasoning,  and  error  in  our  discourse,  as  i 
that  we  have  no  grace  when  we  feel  none.  Feeling  is  not  always  a  fit  rule  I 
to  judge  om-  states  by,  that  God  hath  rejected  us,  because  we  are  crossed  in 
outward  things,  whenas  this  issues  from  God's  wisdom  and  love.  How 
many  imagine  their  failings  to  be  fallings,  and  their  fallings  to  be  fallings 
away ;  infirmities  to  be  presumptions  ;  every  sin  against  conscience,  to  be 
the  sin  against  the  Holy  Ghost ;  unto  which  misapprehensions,  weak  and 
dark  spirits  are  subject.  And  Satan,  as  a  cimning  rhetorician,  here  en- 
largeth  the  fancy,  to  apprehend  things  bigger  than  they  are.  Satan  abuseth 
confident  spirits  another  contrary  way ;  to  apprehend  great  sins  as  little, 
and  little  as  none.  Some  also  think  that  they  have  no  grace,  because  they 
have  not  so  much  as  grown  Christians  ;  whereas  there  be  several  ages  in 
Christ.  Some,  again,  are  so  desh-ous  and  enlarged  after  what  they  have 
not,  that  they  mind  not  what  they  have.  Men  may  be  rich,  though  they 
have  no  millions,  and  be  not  emperors. 

6.  Likewise,  some  are  much  troubled,  because  they  proceed  by  a  false 
method  and  order  in  judging  of  their  estates.  They  will  begin  with  election, 
which  is  the  highest  step  of  the  ladder ;  whereas  they  should  begin  from  a 
work  of  grace  ■svTought  within  their  hearts,  from  God's  calling  them  by  his 
Spirit,  and  their  answer  to  his  call,  and  so  raise  themselves  upwards  to 
know  their  election  by  their  answer  to  God's  calhng.  '  Give  all  diligence,' 
saith  Peter,  '  to  make  youi*  calling  and  election  sure,'  2  Pet.  i.  10,  your 
election  by  your  calling.  God  descends  down  unto  us  from  election  to 
caUing,  and  so  to  sanctification ;  we  must  ascend  to  him,  beginning  where 
he  ends'.  Utlierwise  it  is  as  great  folly  as  in  removing  of  a  pile  of  wood,  to 
begin  at  the  lowest  first,  and  so,  besides  the  needless  trouble,  to  be  in  dan- 
ger to  have  the  rest  to  fall  upon  our  heads.  Which,  besides  ignorance, 
argues  pride,  appearing  in  this,  that  they  would  bring  God  to  their  conceits, 
and  be  at  an  end  of  their  work  before  they  begin. 

This  great  secret  of  God's  eternal  love  to  us  in  Christ  is  hidden  in  his 
breast,  and  doth  not  appear  to  us,  until  in  the  use  of  means  God  by  his 
Spu'it  discovereth  the  same  unto  us ;  the  Spirit  letteth  into  the  soul  so 
much  life  and  sense  of  God's  love  in  particular  to  us,  as  di'awetb  the  soul 
to  Christ,  Irom  whom  it  di-aweth  so  much  virtue  as  changeth  the  Irame  of 
it,  and  quickenetfi  it  to  duty,  which  duties  are  not  grounds  oi  oul'  yLllly  Ih 
grace,  but  issues,  springing  from  a  good  state  before  ;  and  thus  far  they 
help  us  in  judging  of  our  condition,  that  though  they  be  not  to  be  rested 
in,  yet  as  streams  they  lead  us  to  the  spring-head  of  grace  from  whence 
they  arise. 

And  of  signs,  some  be  more  apt  to  deceive  us,  as  being  not  so  certain, 
as  '  delight  and  joy  in  hearing  the  word,'  Mat.  xiii.  20,  as  appeareth  in  the 
third  ground ;  some  are  more  constant  and  certain,  as  love  to  those  that 
are  truly  good,  and  to  all  such,  and  because  they  are  such,  &c.  These  as 
they  are  wrought  by  the  Spmt,  so  the  same  Spirit  giveth  evidence  to  the 
Boul  of  the  truth  of  them,  and  leadeth  us  to  faith  from  whence  they  come, 


138  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

and  faith  leads  us  to  the  discovery  of  God's  love  made  known  to  us  in  hear- 
inw  the  word  opened.  The  same  Spirit  openeth  the  truth  to  us,  and  our 
understandings  to  conceive  of  it,  and  our  hearts  to  close  with  it  by  faith, 
not  only  as  a  truth,  but  as  a  truth  belonging  to  us. 

Now  this  faith  is  manifested,  either  by  itself  reflecting  upon  itself  the 
light  of  faith,  discovering  both  itself  and  other  things,  or  by  the  cause  of  it, 
or  by  the  effect,  or  by  all.  Faith  is  oft  more  known  to  us  in  the  fruit  of 
it,  than  in  itself,  as  in  plants,  the  fruits  are  more  apparent  than  the  sap 
and  root.  But  the  most  settled  knowledge  is  from  the  cause,  as  when  I 
know  I  believe,  because  in  hearing  God's  gracious  promises  opened  and 
offered  unto  me,  the  Spirit  of  God  carrieth  my  soul  to  cleave  to  them  as 
mine  own  portion,  Eph.  i.  13.  Yet  the  most  familiar  way  of  knowledge  of 
our  estates  is  from  the  effects  to  gather  the  cause,  the  cause  being  oftentimes 
more  remote  and  spiritual,  the  effects  more  obvious  and  visible.  All  the 
vigour  and  beauty  in  nature  which  we  see,  comes  from  a  secret  influence 
from  the  heavens  which  we  see  not ;  in  a  clear  morning  we  may  see  the 
beams  of  the  sun  shining  upon  the  top  of  hills  and  houses  before  we  can 
Bee  the  sun  itself. 

Things  in  the  working  of  them,  do  issue  from  the  cause,  by  whose  force 
they  had  their  being ;  but  our  knowing  of  things  ariseth  from  the  effect, 
where  the  cause  endeth.  We  know  God  must  love  us  before  we  can  love  him, 
and  yet  we  oft  first  know  that  we  love  him,  1  John  iv.  19 ;  the  love  of 
God  is  the  cause  why  we  love  our  brother,  and  yet  we  know  we  love 
our  brother  whom  we  see  more  clearly,  than  God  whom  we  do  not  see, 
ver.  20. 

It  is  a  spiritual  peevishness  that  keeps  men  in  a  perplexed  condition, 
that  they  neglect  these  helps  to  judge  of  their  estates  by,  whereas  God  takes 
liberty  to  help  us  sometime  to  a  discovery  of  our  estate  by  the  effects,  some- 
times by  the  cause,  &c.  And  it  is  a  sin  to  set  light  by  any  work  of  the 
Spirit,  and  the  comfort  we  might  have  by  it,  and  therefore  we  may  well 
add  this  as  one  cause  of  disquietness  in  many,  that  they  grieve  the  Spirit, 
by  quarrelling  against  themselves  and  the  work  of  the  Spirit  in  them. 

7.  Another  cause  of  disquiet  is,  that  men  by  a  natural  kind  of  popery  se^ 
for  their  comfort  too  much  sanctification,  neglecting  justification,  relying 
too~much  upion  their  own  performances.  St  Paul  was  of  another  mind, 
accounting  all  but  dung  and  dross,  compared  to  the  righteousness  of  Christ, 
Philip,  iii.  8,  9.  This  is  that  garment,  wherewith  being  decked,  we  please 
our  husband,  and  wherein  we  get  the  blessing.  This  giveth  satisfaction  to 
the  conscience,  as  satisfying  God  himself,  being  performed  by  God  the  Son, 
and  approved  therefore  by  God  the  Father.  Hereupon  the  soul  is  quieted, 
and  faith  holdeth  out  this  as  a  shield  against  the  displeasure  of  God  and 
temptations  of  Satan.  Why  did  the  apostles  in  thefr  prefaces  join  grace  and 
peace  together,*  but  that  we  should  seek  for  our  peace  in  the  free  grace  and 
favour  of  God  in  Christ  ? 

No  wonder  why  papists  maintain  doubting,  who  hold  salvation  by  works, 
because  Satan  joining  together  with  our  consciences  will  always  fiiid  some 
flaw  even  in  om'  best  performances  ;  hereupon  the  doubting  and  misgiving 
80ul  comes  to  make  this  absurd  demand,  as.  Who  shall  ascend  to  heaven  ? 
Ps.  xxiv.  3,  which  is  all  one  as  to  fetch  Christ  from  heaven,  and  so  bring 
him  down  to  suffer  on  the  cross  again.  Whereas  if  we  believe  in  Christ 
we  are  as  sure  to  come  to  heaven  as  Christ  is  there.     Christ  ascending  and 

*  Grace  and  peace.  See  1  Cor.  i.  8  ;  2  Cor.  i.  2  ;  Gal,  i.  3 ;  Eph.  1.  2  ;  1  Peter 
.  2 ;  Rev.  i.  4,  &c.,  &c.— G. 


THE  soul's  conflict.  139 

descending,  witli  all  that  he  hath  done,  is  ours.     So  that  neither  height  nor 
depth  can  separate  us  from  God's  love  in  Christ,  Rom.  viii.  39. 

But  we  must  remember,  though  the  main  pillar  of  our  comfort  be  in  the 
free  forgiveness  of  our  sins,  yet  if  there  be  a  neglect  in  growing  in  holiness, 
the  soul  will  never  be  soundly  quiet,  because  it  will  be  prone  to  question 
the  truth  of  justification,  and  it  is  as  proper  for  sin  to  raise  doubts  and  fears 
in  the  conscience,  as  for  rotten  flesh  and  wood  to  breed  worms. 

8.  And  therefore  we  may  well  join  this  as  a  cause  of  disquietness,  the^ 
neglect  of  keeping  a  dear  conscience.  Sin,  like  Achan,  or  Jonah  in  the  ship,  is 
that  which  causeth  storms  within  and  without.  Where  there  is  not  a  pure  con- 
science, there  is  not  a  pacified  conscience ;  and  therefore  though  some,  thinking 
to  save  themselves  whole  in  justification,  neglect  the  cleansing  of  their  natures 
and  ordering  of  their  lives,  yet  in  time  of  temptation  they  will  find  it  more 
troublesome  than  they  think.  For  a  conscience  guilty  of  many  neglects, 
and  of  allowing  itself  in  any  sin,  to  lay  claim  to  God's  mercy,  is  to  do  as 
we  see  mountebanks  sometimes  do,  who  wound  their  flesh  to  try  conclusions 
upon  their  own  bodies,  how  sovereign  the  salve  is ;  yet  oftentimes  they 
come  to  feel  the  smart  of  their  presumption,  by  long  and  desperate  wounds. 
So  God  will  let  us  see  what  it  is  to  make  wounds  to  try  the  preciousness  of 
his  balm ;  such  may  go  mourning  to  their  graves.  And  though,  perhaps, 
with  much  wrestling  with  God  they  may  get  assurance  of  the  pardon  of 
their  sins,  yet  their  conscience  will  be  still  trembling,  like-as  David's, 
though  Nathan  had  pronounced  unto  him  the  forgiveness  of  his  sin,  Ps.  li., 
till  God  at  length  speaks  further  peace,  even  as  the  water  of  the  sea  after  a 
storm  is  not  presently  still,  but  moves  and  trembles  a  good  while  after  the 
storm  is  over.  A  Christian  is  a  new  creature  and  walketh  by  rule,  and  so 
far  as  he  walketh  according  to  his  rule,  peace  is  upon  him,  Gal.  vi.  16. 
Loose  walkers  that  regard  not  their  way,  must  think  to  meet  with  sorrows 
instead  of  peace.  Watchfulness  is  the  preserver  of  peace.  It  is  a  deep 
.spiritual  judgment  to  find  peace  in  an  iU  way. 

9.  Some  again  reap  the  fruit  of  their  ignorance  of  Christian  liberty,  by  un- 
necessary scruples  and  doubts.  It  is  both  unthanklulness  toTjod  and 
wron^  to  ourselves,  to  be  ignorant  of  the  extent  of  Christian  liberty.  It 
makes  melody  to  Satan  to"  see  (Jnnstians  troubled  witli  tnat  tney  neither 
should  or  need.  Yet  there  is  danger  in  stretching  Christian  liberty  be- 
yond the  bounds.  For  a  man  may  condemn  himself  in  that  he  approves, 
as  in  not  walking  circumspectly  in  regard  of  circumstances,  and  so  breed 
his  own  disquiet,  and  give  scandal  to  others. 

10.  Sometimes  also,  God  sufiers  men  to  be  disquieted  iox  want  of  employ- 
ment, who,  in  shunning  labour,  procure  trouble  to  themselves ;  and  by  not 
doiag  that  which  is  needful,  they  are  troubled  with  that  which  is  unnecessary. 
An  unemployed  life  is  a  burden  to  itself.  God  is  a  pure  act,  always  working, 
always  doing ;  and  the  nearer  our  soul  comes  to  God,  the  more  it  is  in 
action  and  the  freer  from  disquiet.  Men  experimentally  feel  that  comfort, 
in  doing  that  which  belongs  unto  them,  which  before  they  longed  for  and 
went  vpithout ;  a  heart  not  exercised  in  some  honest  labour  works  trouble 
out  of  itself. 

11.  Again,  omission  of  duties  and  offices  of  love  often  troubles  the  peace  of 
good  people  ;  for  even  in  time  of  death,  when  they  look  for  peace  and  desire 
it  most,  then  looking  back  upon  their  former  failings,  and  seeing  opportunity 
of  doing  good  wanting  to  their  desire  (the  parties  perhaps  being  deceased  to 
whom  they  owed  more  respect),  are  hereupon  much  disquieted,  and  so  much 
the  more  because  they  see  now  hope  of  the  like  advantages  cut  off. 


140  THE  soul's  conflict. 

A  Christian  life  is  full  of  duties,  and  the  peace  of  it  is  not  maintained 
without  much  fruitfulness  and  looking  about  us.  Debt  is  a  disquieting 
thing  to  an  honest  mind,  and  duty  is  debt.  Hereupon  the  apostle  layeth 
the  charge,  '  that  we  should  owe  nothing  to  any  man  but  love,'  Kom.  xiii.  8. 
'  12.  Again,  one  special  cause  of  too  much  disquiet  is,  ivant  of  firm  resolution 
in  good  things.  The  soul  cannot  but  be  disquieted  when  it  knows  not  what  to 
cleave  unto,  like  a  ship  tossed  with  contrary  winds.  Halting  is  a  deformed 
and  troublesome  gesture  ;  so  halting  in  religion  is  not  only  troublesome  to 
others  and  odious,  but  also  disquiets  ourselves.  '  If  God  be  God,  cleave  to 
him,'  1  Kings  xviii.  21.  If  the  duties  of  religion  be  such  as  will  bring  peace 
of  conscience  at  the  length,  be  religious  to  purpose,  practise  them  in  the 
particular  passages  of  life.  We  should  labour  to  have  a  clear  judgment, 
and  from  thence  a  resolved  purpose ;  a  wavering-minded  man  is  incon- 
sistent in  all  his  ways,  James  i.  6.  God  wiU  not  speak  peace  to  a  stagger- 
ing spirit  that  hath  always  its  religion  and  its  way  to  choose.  Uncertain 
men  are  always  unquiet  men  :  and  giving  too  much  way  to  passion  maketh 
men  in  particular  consultations  unsettled.  This  is  the  reason  why,  in  par- 
ticular cases,  when  the  matter  concerns  ourselves,  we  cannot  judge  so 
clearly  as  in  general  truths,  because  Satan  raiseth  a  mist  between  us  and 
the  matter  in  question. 

m.  Positive  causes. 

Maybe,  1.  When  men  lay  up  their  comfort  too  much  on  outward  things, 
which,  being  subject  to  much  inconstancy  and  change,  breed  disquiet. 
Vexation  always  follows  vanity,  when  vanity  is  not  apprehended  to  be  where 
it  is.  In  that  measure  we  are  cast  down  in  the  disappointing  of  our  hopes, 
as  we  were  too  much  lifted  up  in  expectation  of  good  from  them.  Whence 
proceed  these  complaints  :  Such  a  friend  hath  failed  me  ;  I  never  thought 
to  have  fallen  into  this  condition ;  I  had  settled  my  joy  in  this  child,  in 
this  fi'iend,  &c.  But  this  is  to  build  our  comfort  upon  things  that  have  no 
firm  foundation,  to  build  castles  in  the  air,  as  we  use  to  say.  Therefore 
it  is  a  good  desu-e  of  the  wise  man  Agur  to  desire  God  '  to  remove  from  us 
vanity  and  lies,'  Prov.  xxx.  8  ;  that  is,  a  vain  and  false  apprehension  pitch- 
ing upon  things  that  are  vain  and  lying,  promising  that*  contentment  to 
ourselves  from  the  creature  which  it  cannot  yield.  Confidence  in  vain 
things  makes  a  vain  heart,  the  heart  becoming  of  the  nature  of  the  thing  it 
reUes  on.  We  may  say  of  all  earthly  things  as  the  prophet  speaketh,  '  here 
is  not  our  rest,'  Mic.  ii.  10. 

It  is  no  wonder,  therefore,  that  worldly  men  are  oft  cast  down  and  dis- 
quieted, when  they  walk  in  a  vain  shadow,  Ps.  xxxix.  6,  as  Hkewise  that 
men  given  much  to  recreations  should  be  subject  to  passionate  distempers, 
because  here,  things  fall  out  otherwise  than  they  looked  for ;  recreations 
being  about  matters  that  are  variable,  which  especially  falls  out  in  games  of 
hazard,  wherein  they  oft  spare  not  divine  providence  itself,  but  break  out 
into  blasphemy. 

Likewise  men  that  grasp  more  businesses  than  they  can  discharge,  must 
needs  bear  both  the  blame  and  the  grief  of  losing  or  marring  many  busi- 
nesses, it  being  almost  impossible  to  do  many  things  so  well  as  to  give 
content  to  conscience  ;  hence  it  is  that  covetous  and  busy  men  trouble  both 
their  hearts  and  their  houses.  Though  some  men,  from  a  largeness  of  parts 
and  a  special  dexterity  in  afiairs,  may  turn  over  much,  yet  the  most  capa- 
cious heart  hath  its  measure,  and  when  the  cup  is  fuU,  a  little  drop  may 

*  '  a,'  iD  C. 


THE  soul's  conflict.  141 

cause  the  rest  to  spill.  There  is  a  spiritual  surfeit,  when  the  soul  is  over- 
charged with  business ;  it  is  fit  the  soul  should  have  its  meet  burden  and 
no  more. 

2.  As  likewise,  those  that  depend  too  much  upon  the  opinions  of  other  men. 
A  very  little  matter  will  refresh,  and  then  again  discourage,  a  mind  that 
rests  too  much  upon  the  Uking  of  others — Sic  leve  sic  parvum  est  animum 
quod  laudis  avarum  submit  aiit  reficit.  Men  that  seek  themselves  too  much 
abroad,  find  themselves  disquieted  at  home.  Even  good  men  many  times 
are  too  much  troubled  with  the  unjust  censures  of  other  men,  specially  in 
the  day  of  their  trouble.  It  was  Job's  case ;  and  it  is  a  heavy  thing  to 
have  affliction  added  to  affliction.  It  was  Hannah's  case,  who,  being 
troubled  in  spirit,  was  censured  by  Eli  for  distemper  in  brain,  1  Sam.  i.  14 ; 
but  for  vain  men  who  Hve  more  to  reputation  than  to  conscience,  it  cannot 
be  that  they  should  long  enjoy  settled  quiet,  because  those  in  whose  good 
opinion  they  desire  to  dwell,  are  ready  often  to  take  up  contrary  conceits 
upon  slender  grounds. 

3.  It  is  also  a  ground  of  overmuch  trouble,  when  we  look  too  much  and 
too  long  upon  the  ill  in  ourselves  and  abroad.  We  may  fix  our  eyes  too  long 
even  upon  sin  itself,  considering  that  we  have  not  only  a  remedy  against 
the  hm't  by  sin,  but  a  commandment  to  rejoice  always  in  the  Lord,  PhiHp. 
iv.  4.  Much  more  may  we  err  in  poring  too  much  upon  our  afflictions ; 
whereiu  we  may  find  always  in  om'selves  upon  search,  a  cause  to  justify 
God,  and  always  something  left  to  comfort  us ;  though  we  naturally  mind 
more  one  cross  than  a  hundred  favours,  dwelUng  over  long  upon  the  sore. 

So  likewise,  our  minds  may  be  too  much  taken  up  in  consideration  of  the 
miseries  of  the  times  at  home  and  abroad,  as  if  Christ  did  not  rule  in  the 
midst  of  his  enemies,  and  would  not  help  aU  iu  due  time  ;  or  as  if  the  con- 
dition of  the  church  in  this  world  were  not  for  the  most  part  in  an  afflicted 
and  conflicted  condition.  Indeed  there  is  a  perfect  rest  both  for  the  souls 
and  bodies  of  God's  people,  but  that  ii  ot  in  this  world,  but  is  kept  foi: 
nereatter ;  nere  we  are  in  a  sea,  where  wKai,  ca.n  we  look  for  but  storrps  ? 

To  insist  upon  no  more,  one  cause  is,  that  we  do  usurp  upon  God,  and 
take  his  office  upon  us,  by  troubhng  ourselves  in  forecasting  the  event  of 
things,  whereas  our  work  is  only  to  do  om-  work  and  be  quiet,  as  children 
when  they  please  their  parents  take  no  further  thought ;  our  trouble  is  the 
fruit  of  our  folly  in  this  kind. 

Use  1.  That  which  we  should  observe  from  all  that  hath  been  said  is,  that 
we  be  not  over  hasty  in  censuring  others,  when  we  see  their  spirits  out  of 
temper,  for  we  see  how  many  things  there  are  that  work  strongly  upon  the 
weak  nature  of  man.  "We  may  sin  more  by  harsh  censure  than  they  by 
overmuch  distemper;  as,  in  Job's  case,  it  was  a  matter  rather  of  just  grief 
and  pity,  than  great  wonder  or  heavy  censure. 

Use  2.  And,  for  ourselves,  if  our  estate  be  calm  for  the  present,  yet  we 
should  labour  to  prepare  om-  hearts,  not  only  for  an  alteration  of  estate,  but 
of  spirit,  unless  we  be  marvellous  careful  beforehand,  that  our  spu-its  fall 
not  down  with  our  condition.  And  if  it  befalls  us  to  find  it  otherwise  with 
our  souls  than  at  other  times,  we  should  so  far  labour  to  bear  it,  as  that  we 
do  not  judge  it  our  own  case  alone,  when  we  see  here  David  thus  to  com- 
plain of  himself,  '  Why  art  thou  cast  down,  0  my  soul  ? '  &c. 


142  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

Chapter  IV. — Oj  casting  down  ourselves,  and  specially  by  sorrow-~-evih 

thereof. 

To  return  again  to  the  words,  '  Why  art  thou  cast  down,  0  my  soul  ?'  &c., 
or,  Why  dost  thou  cast  down  thyself?'  or.  Art  cast  down  by  thyself? 

Obs.  1.  Whence  we  may  further  observe,  that  ive  are  prone  to  cast  down  ^ 
ourselves,  we  are  accessory  to  our  own  trouble,  and  weave  the  web  of  our 
omTsorrow,  and  hamper  ourselves  in  the  cords  of  our  own  twining.  God 
neither  loves  nor  wills  that  we  should  be  too  much  cast  down.  We  see  our 
Saviour  Christ,  how  careful  he  was  that  his  disciples  should  not  be  troubled, 
and  therefore  he  labours  to  prevent  that  trouble  which  might  arise  by  his 
suffermg  and  departure  from  them,  by  a  heavenly  sermon  ;  '  Let  not  your 
hearts  be  troubled,'  &c.,  John  xiv.  1.  He  was  troubled  himself  that  we 
should  not  be  troubled.  The  ground,  therefore,  of  our  disquiet  is  chiefly 
from  ourselves,  though  Satan  will  have  a  hand  in  it.  We  see  many,  like 
suUen  birds  in  a  cage,  beat  themselves  to  death.  This  casting  down  of  our- 
selves is  not  from  humility,  but  from  pride  ;  we  must  have  our  will,  or  God 
shall  not  have  a  good  look  from  us,  but  as  pettish  and  peevish  children,  we 
hang  our  heads  in  our  bosom,  because  our  wills  are  crossed. 

Use.  Therefore,  in  aU  our  troubles  we  should  look  first  home  to  our  ovm 
hearts,  and  stop  the  storm  there ;  for  we  may  thank  our  own  selves,  not 
only  for  our  troubles,  but  likevpise  for  overmuch  troubling  ourselves  iu 
trouble.  It  was  not  the  troubled  condition  that  so  disquieted  David's  soul, 
for  if  he  had  had  a  quiet  mind,  it  would  not  have  troubled  him.  But  David 
yielded  to  the  discouragements  of  the  flesh,  and  the  flesh,  so  far  as  it  is  un- 
subdued, is  like  the  sea  that  is  always  casting  mire  and  dirt  of  doubts,  dis- 
couragements, and  murmurings  in  the  soul ;  let  us,  therefore,  lay  the  blame 
where  it  is  to  be  laid. 

Obs.  2.  Again,  we  see,  it  is  the  nature  gf  sorrow  to  cast  down,  as  of  joy  ^ 
toUft  up.  Grief  is  like  lead  to  the  soul,  heavy  and  cold ;  it  sinlTs  down- 
wards,  and  carries  the  soul  with  it.  The  poor  pubhcan,  to  shew  that  his 
soul  was  cast  down  under  the  sight  of  his  sins,  hung  down  his  head,  Luke 
xviii.  13 ;  the  position  of  his  body  was  suitable  to  the  disposition  of  hia 
mind,  his  heart  and  head  were  cast  down  ahke.  And  it  is  Satan's  practice 
to  go  over  the  hedge  where  it  is  lowest ;  he  adds  more  weights  to  the  soul 
by  his  temptations  and  vexations.  His  sin  cast  him  out  of  heaven,  and  by 
his  temptations  he  cast  us  out  of  our  paradise,  and  ever  since,  he  labours 
to  cast  us  deeper  into  sin,  wherein  his  scope  is,  to  cast  us  either  into  too 
much  trouble  for  sin,  or  presumption  in  sin,  which  is  but  a  lifting  up,  to 
cast  us  down  into  deep  despair  at  length,  and  so  at  last,  if  God's  mercy 
stop  not  his  malice,  he  wiU  cast  us  as  low  as  himself,  even  into  hell  itself. 

Reason.  The  ground  hereof  is  because,  as  the  joy  of  the  Lord  doth  strengthen, 
so  doth  sorroiv  weaken  the  soul.     How  doth  it  weaken  ? 

1 .  By  weakening  the  execution  of  the  functions  thereof,  because  it  drinketh 
up  the  spirits,  which  are  tne  mstnmaents  oi  the  soul.  " 

^.  Because  it  contracteth,  and  draweth  the  soul  into  itself  from  com- 
munioii  oT  thai  (iOmft)l-t  it  might  have  with  God  or  man.  And  then  the 
soul  being  left  alone,  if  it  falleth,  hath  none  to  raise  it  up,  Eccl.  iv.  10. 

Use.  Therefore,  if  we  will  prevent  casting  down,  let  us  prevent  grief  the 
cause  of  it,  and  sin  the  cause  of  that.  Experience  proves  that  true  which  the 
wise  man  says,  '  Heaviness  in  the  heart  of  a  rc-an  makes  it  stoop,  but  a  good 
word  makes  it  better,'  Prov.  xii.  25.     It  bows  down  the  soul,  and  therefore 


THE  soul's  conflict.  143 

our  blessed  Saviour  inviteth  such  unto  him,  *  Come  unto  me,  ye  who  are 
heavy  laden  with  the  burden  of  your  sins,'  Matt.  xi.  28.  The  body  bends 
under  a  heavy  burden,  so  likewise  the  soul  hath  its  burden,  '  Why  art  thou 
cast  down,  0  my  soul  ?  why  so  disquieted  ?'  &c. 

Obs.  3.  Whence  we  see,  1,  that  casting  down  breeds  disquieting,:  because  v^ 
it  springs  from  pride,  which  is  a  turbulent  passion,  whenas  men  cannot 
stoop  to  that  condition  which  God  would  have  them  in ;  this  proceeds  fi'om 
discontentment,  and  that  from  pride.  As  we  see  a  vapour  enclosed  in  a 
cloud  causeth  a  terrible  noise  of  thunder,  whilst  it  is  pent  up  there,  and 
seeketh  a  vent ;  so  aU  the  noise  withiu  proceeds  from  a  discontented  swell- 
ing vapotu-.  It  is  air  enclosed  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth  which  shakes  it, 
which  all  the  four  winds  cannot  do. 

No  creature  under  heaven  so  low  cast  down  as  Satan,  none  more  lifted 
up  in  pride,  none  so  full  of  discord.  The  impurest  spirits  are  the  most 
disquiet  and  stormy  spirits,  troublesome  to  themselves  and  others  ;  for  when 
the  soul  leaves  God  once,  and  looks  downwards,  what  is  there  to  stay  it 
from  disquiet  ?  Remove  the  needle  from  the  pole-star,  and  it  is  always 
stirring  and  trembling,  never  quiet  tiU  it  be  right  again.  So,  displace  tha 
soul  by  taking  it  from  God,  and  it  vdll  never  be  quiet.  The  devil  cast  out 
of  heaven  and  out  of  the  church,  keeps  ado  ;  so  do  unruly  spirits  led  by 
him. 

Now  I  come  to  the  remedies. 
^     1.  By  expostulation  with  himself,  Why  art,  &c. 

2.  By  laying  a  charge  upon  himself,  Trust  in  God. 

Trust  in  God.  It  is  supposed  here,  that  there  is  no  reason,  which  the 
wisdom  from  above  allows  to  be  a  reason,  why  men  should  be  discouraged ; 
although  the  wisdom  from  beneath,  which  takes  part  with  our  corruption, 
will  seldom  want  a  plea.  Nay,  there  is  not  only  no  reason  for  it,  but  there 
are  strong  reasons  against  it,  there  being  a  world  of  evil  in  it. 

For,  1 .  It  indisposes  a  man  to  all  good  duties,  it  makes  him  like  an  instru- 
ment out  of  tune,  and  hke  a  body  out  of  joint,  that  moveth  both  uncomely 
and  painfully.  It  unfits  to  duties  to  God,  who  loves  a  cheerful  giver,  and 
especially  a  thanksgiver.  Whereupon  the  apostle  joins  them  both  together, 
*  In  all  things  be  thankful,  and  rejoice  evermore,'  1  Thess.  v.  17,  18.  In 
our  communion  with  God  in  the  sacraments,  joy  is  a  chief  ingredient.  So 
in  duties  to  men,  if  the  spirit  be  dejected,  they  are  unwelcome,  and  lose  the 
greatest  part  of  their  Ufe  and  grace  ;  a  cheerful  and  a  free  spirit  in  duty  is 
that  which  is  most  accepted  in  duty.  We  observe  not  so  much  what,  as 
from  what  afiection  a  thing  is  done. 

2.  It  is  a  great  wrong  to  God  himself,  and  it  makes  us  conceive  black 
thoughts  of  him,  as  \{  he  were  an  6B611iy.  What  an  injury  is  it  to  a  gracious 
father  that  such  whom  he  hath  followed  with  many  gracious  evidences  of 
his  favour  and  love  should  be  in  so  Ul  a  frame  as  once  to  call  it  into  question  I 

3.  So  it  makes  a  man  forgetful  of  all  former  blessings,  and  stops  the  in- 
fluence of  God's  grace  for  the  time  present  and  for  that  to  come. 

4.  So,  again,  for  receiving  of  good,  it  makes  us  unfit  to  receive  mercies. 
A  quiet  soul  is  the  seat  of  wisdom ;  therefore,  meekness  is  required  for  the 
receiving  of  that  '  engrafted  word  which  is  able  to  save  our  souls,'  James  i, 
21.  Till  the  Spirit  of  God  meekens  the  soul,  say  what  you  will,  it  minds 
nothing ;  the  soul  is  not  empty  and  quiet  enough  to  receive  the  seed  of  the 
word.  It  is  ill  sowing  in  a  storm ;  so  a  stormy  spirit  will  not  sufier  the 
word  to  take  place.  Men  are  deceived  when  they  think  a  dejected  spirit 
to  be  an  humble  sjjirit.    Indeed,  it  is  so  when  we  are  cast  down  in  the 


144  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

sense  of  our  own  unworthiness,  and  then  as  much  raised  up  in  the  confi- 
dence of  God's  mercy.  But  when  we  cast  ourselves  down  sullenly,  and 
fiewlect  our  comforts,  or  undervalue  them,  it  proceeds  from  pride ;  for  it 
controls,  as  much  as  in  us  hes,  the  wisdom  and  justice  of  God,  when  we 
thiuk  with  ourselves.  Why  should  it  be  so  with  us  ?  as  if  we  were  wiser  to 
dispose  of  ourselves  than  God  is.  It  disposeth  us  for  entertaining  any 
temptation.     Satan  hath  never  more  advantage  than  upon  discontent. 

5.  Besides,  it  keeps  off  heginners  from  coming  in,  and  entering  into  the 
ways  of  God,  bringing  an  ill  report  upon  religion,  causing  men  to  charge  it 
falsely  for  an  uncomfortable  way,  whenas  men  never  feel  what  true  comfort 
meaneth  till  they  give  up  themselves  to  God.  And  it  damps,  likewise,  the 
spirits  of  those  that  walk  the  same  way  with  us,  whenas  we  should,  as  good 
travellers,  cheer  up  one  another  both  by  word  and  example.  In  such  a 
case  the  wheels  of  the  soul  are  taken  off,  or  else,  as  it  were,  want  oil, 
whereby  the  soul  passeth  on  very  heavily,  and  no  good  action  comes  oflf 
from  it  as  it  should,  which  breeds  not  only  uncomfortableness,  but  un- 
settledness  in  good  courses.  For  a  man  will  never  go  on  comfortably  and 
constantly  in  that  which  he  heavily  undertakes.  That  is  the  reason  why 
uncheerful  spuits  seldom  hold  out  as  they  should.  St  Peter  knew  this 
well,  and  therefore  he  willeth  that  there  should  be  '  quietness  and  peace 
betwixt  husband  and  wife,  that  their  prayers  be  not  hindered,'  1  Pet.  iii. 
7,  insinuating  that  their  prayers  are  hindered  by  family  breaches ;  for  by 
that  means  those  two  that  should  be  one  flesh  and  spirit  are  aivided,  and 
so  made  two,  and  \vhen  they  should  mind  duty  their  mind  is  taken  up  with 
wrongs  done  by  the  one  to  the  other. 

There  is  nothing  more  required  for  the  performing  of  holy  duties  than 
uniting  of  spirits,  and  therefore  God  would  not  have  the  sacrifice  brought  to 
the  altar  before  reconciliation  with  om-  brother.  Matt.  v.  24.  He  esteems 
peace  so  highly,  that  he  wUl  have  his  own  service  stay  for  it.  We  see 
when  Moses  came  to  deliver  the  Israelites  out  of  bondage,  Exod.  ix.,  thefr 
mind  was  so  taken  up  with  their  giief  that  there  was  nobody  within  to  give 
Moses  an  answer ;  their  souls  went  altogether  after  their  ill  usage. 

Use.  Therefore,  we  should  all  endeavom'  and  labour  for  a  calmed  spirit, 
that  we  may  the  better  serve  God  in  praying  to  him  and  praising  of  him ; 
and  serve  one  another  in  love,  that  we  may  be  fitted  to  do  and  receive  good, 
that  we  may  make  our  passage  to  heaven  more  easy  and  cheerful,  without 
drooping  and  hanging  the  wing.  So  much  as  we  are  quiet  and  cheerful 
upon  good  grounds,  so  much  we  live,  and  are,  as  it  were,  in  heaven.  So 
much  as  we  yield  to  discom'agement,  we  lose  so  much  of  our  life  and  hap- 
piness, cheerfulness  being,  as  it  were,  that  life  of  our  lives  and  the  spirit  of 
our  spirits  by  which  they  are  more  enlarged  to  receive  happiness  and  to 
express  it. 


Ohapteb  V. — Remedies  of  casting  down  •  to  cite  the  soul,  and  press  it 
to  give  an  account. 

Obs.  1.  But  to  come  to  some  helps  : 

First,  in  that  he  expostulates  with  himself,  we  may  observe  that  one  way 
to  raise  a  dejected  soul  is  to  cite  it  before  itself,  and,  as  it  ivere,  to  reason  the 
case.  God  hath  set  up  a  court  in  man's  heart,  wherein  the  conscience  hath 
the  ofi&ce  both  of  informer,  accuser,  witness,  and  judge ;  and  if  matters 
were  well  carried  within  ourselves,  this  prejudging  would  be  a  prevention 


THE  soul's  conflict.  145 

of  future  judging.  It  is  a  great  mercy  of  God  that  the  credit  and  comfort^  ^ 
of  man  are  so  provided  for  that  he  may  take  up  matters  in  himj^iplf,  ajid  so 
prevent  public  disgrac^  But  it  there  be'not  a  fair  dispatch  and  transac- 
tion in  this  inferior  court  vsdthin  us,  there  will  be  a  review  in  a  higher  court. 
Therefore,  by  slubbering  over  our  matters  we  put  God  and  ourselves  to 
more  trouble  than  needs.  For  a  judgment  must  pass,  first  or  last,  either 
within  us  or  without  us,  upon  all  unwarrantable  distempers.  We  must  not 
only  be  ready  to  give  an  account  of  our  faith,  upon  what  grounds  we  be- 
lieve ;  but  of  aU  our  actions,  upon  what  grounds  we  do  what  we  do  ;  and 
of  our  passions,  upon  what  grounds  we  are  passionate ;  as  in  a  well-governed 
state,  uproar  and  sedition  is  never  stirred,  but  account  must  be  given.  Now 
in  a  mutiny,  the  presence  and  speech  of  a  venerable  man  composeth  the 
minds  of  the  disordered  multitude ;  so  likewise  in  a  mutiny  of  the  spirit, 
the  authority  that  God  hath  put  into  reason,  as  a  beam  of  himself,  com- 
mands sUence,  and  puts  all  in  order  again. 

Reason.  And  there  is  good  reason  for  it,  for  man  is  an  understanding 
creature,  and  hath  a  rule  given  him  to  live  by,  and  therefore  is  to  be 
countable  of  every  thought,  word,  action,  passion.  Therefore  the  first  way 
to  quiet  the  soul,  is,  to  ask  a  reason  of  the  tumult  raised ,  mid  fih(j3i.many 
of  our  distempers  for  shame  wiU  not  appear,  because  tbnngb  t.bf-y  ragfi  in 
silent  darkness,  yet  they  can  say  nothing  for  themselves,  being  summoned 
T)etore  strength  of  judgment  and  reason.  Which  is  the  reason  why  pas- 
sionate men  are  loth  that  any  com-t  should  be  kept  within  them ;  but  labour 
to  stop  judgment  aU  they  can.  If  men  would  but  give  themselves  leave  to 
consider  better  of  it,  they  would  never  yield  to  such  imreasonable  motions 
of  the  soul ;  if  they  could  but  gain  so  much  of  their  unruly  passions,  as  to 
reason  the  matter  within  themselves,  to  hear  what  then-  consciences  can  tell 
them  in  secret,  there  would  not  be  such  offensive  breakings  out.  And  there- 
fore, if  we  be  ashamed  to  hear  others  upbraiding  us,  let  us  for  shame  hear 
ourselves  ;  and  if  no  reason  can  be  given,  what  an  unreasonable  thing  is  it 
for  a  man  endowed  with  reason  to  contrary  his  own  principles  !  and  to  be 
carried" as  a  beast  without  reason;  or  if  there  be  any  reason  to  be  eriven. 
then  this  IS  tlie  wav  to  scan  it,  see  whether  it  will  hold  water  or  not.  We 
shall  find  some  reasons,  if  they  may  be  so  called,  to  be  so  corrupt  and  foul, 
that  if  the  judgment  be  not  coiTupted  by  them,  they  dare  not  be  brought  to 
light,  but  always  appear  under  some  colour  and  pretext ;  for  sin,  Hke  the 
devil,  is  afraid  to  appear  in  its  own  likeness,  and  men  seek  out  fair  glosses 
for  foul  intentions.  The  hidden,  secret  reason  is  one,  the  open  is  another ; 
the  heart  being  corrupt  sets  the  wit  awork,  to  satisfy  corrupt  will ;  such  kind 
of  men  are  afraid  of  their  own  consciences,  as  Ahab  of  Micaiah,  1  Kings 
xxii.  16,  because  they  fear  it  would  deal  truly  with  them  ;  and  therefore 
they  take  either  present  order  for  their  consciences,  or  else,  as  Felix  put  oflf 
Paul,  Acts  xxiv.  25,  they  adjourn  the  court  for  another  time.  Such  men 
are  strangers  at  home,  afraid  of  nothing  more  than  themselves,  and  there- 
fore in  a  fearful  condition,  because  they  are  reserved  for  the  judgment  of  the 
great  day,  if  God  doth  not  before  that  set  upon  them  in  this  world.  If 
men,  carried  away  with  their  own  lusts,  would  give  but  a  little  check,  and  stop 
themselves  in  their  posting  to  hell,  and  ask,  What  have  I  done  ?  What  am 
I  now  about  ?  Whither  wUl  this  course  tend  ?  How  will  it  end  ?  &c.,  un- 
doubtedly men  would  begin  to  be  wise.  Would  the  blasphemer  give  away 
his  soul  for  nothing  (for  there  is  no  engagement  of  profit  or  pleasure  in  this 
as  in  other  sins,  but  it  issues  merely  out  of  irreverence,  and  a  superfluity  of 
profaneness),  would  he,  I  say,  draw  so  heavy  a  guilt  upon  himself  for  no- 

VOL.  I.  K 


146  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

thing,  if  he  would  but  make  use  of  his  reason  ?  Would  an  old  man,  when  he 
is.  very  near  his  journey's  end,  make  longer  provision  for  a  short  way,  if  he 
would  ask  himself  a  reason  ?  But,  indeed,  covetousness  is  an  unreason- 
able vice. 

If  those  also  of  the  younger  sort  would  ask  of  themselves,  why  God 
should  not  have  the  flower  and  marrow  of  their  age  ?  and  why  they  should 
give  their  strength  to  the  devil  ?  it  might  a  little  take  them  off  from  the 
devil's  service.  But  sin  is  a  work  of  darkness,  and  therefore  shuns  not  only 
the  light  of  grace,  but  even  the  light  of  reason.  Yef  sin  seldom  wants  a 
seeming  reason.  Men  will  not  go  to  hell  without  a  show  of  reason.  But 
such  be  sophistical  fallacies,  not  reasons ;  and,  therefore,  sinners  are  said 
to  play  the  sophisters  with  themselves.  Satan  could  not  deceive  us,  imless 
we  deceived  ourselves  first,  and  are  willingly  deceived.  Wilful  sinners  are 
bUnd,  because  they  put  out  the  light  of  reason,  and  so  think  God,  like  them- 
selves, blind  too,  Ps.  1.  21,  and,  therefore,  they  are  deservedly  termed  mad- 
men and  fools  ;  for,  did  they  but  make  use  of  that  spark  of  reason,  it  would 
teach  them  to  reason  thus  :  I  cannot  give  an  account  of  my  ways  to  myself; 
what  account  shall  I,  or  can  I,  give  then  to  the  Judge  of  all  flesh  ere  it  be 
long. 

And  as  it  is  a  ground  of  repentance  in  stopping  our  course  to  ask.  What 
have  I  done  ?  so  likewise  of  faith  and  new  obedience,  to  ask.  What  shall  I 
do  for  the  time  to  come  ?  and  then  upon  settling,  the  soul  in  way  of  thanks 
will  be  ready  to  ask  of  itself,  '  What  shall  I  return  to  the  Lord  ? '  &c.  So 
that  the  soiil,  by  this  dealing  with  itself,  promote th  itself  to  all  holy  duties 
till  it  come  to  heaven. 

1.  The  reason  why  we  are  thus  backward  to  the  keeping  of  this  court  in 
ourselves  is  self-love.  We  love  to  flatter  our  own  affections,  but  this  self- 
love  is  but  self-hatred  in  the  end.  As  the  wise  man  says,  he  that  regards 
not  this  part  of  wisdom,  *  hates  his  own  soul,  and  shall  eat  the  fruits  of  his 
own  ways,'  Prov.  i.  31. 

2.  As  likewise  it  issues  from  an  i'^someness  of  labour,  which  makes  us 
rather  willing  to  seem  base  and  vUe  to  ourselves  and  others,  than  to  take 
pains  with  our  own  hearts  to  be  better,  as  those  that  are  weary  of  holding 
the  reins  give  them  up  unto  the  horse  neck,  and  so  are  driven  whither  the 
rage  of  the  horse  carrieth  them.  Sparing  a  little  trouble  at  first,  doubles  it 
in  the  end ;  as  he  who  wiU  not  take  the  pains  to  cast  up  his  books,  his 
books  will  cast  up  him  in  the  end.  It  is  a  blessed  trouble  that  brings 
sound  and  long  peace.  This  labour  saves  God  a  labour,  for  therefore  he 
judgeth  us,  because  we  would  not  take  pains  with  ourselves  before,  1  Cor. 
xi.  31. 

^  3.  And_^n'ie  also,  with  a  desire  of  liberty,  makes  men  think  it  to  be  a 
diminishing  of  greatness  and  freedom  either  to  be  curbed,  or  to  curb  our- 
selves. We  love  to  be  absolute  and  independent ;  but  this,  as  it  brought 
ruin  upon  our  nature  in  Adam,  so  it  will  upon  our  persons.  Men,  as 
Luther  was  wont  to  say,  are  bom  with  a  pope  in  their  beUy,  they  are  loath 
to  give  an  account,  although  it  be  to  themselves,  their  wills  are,  instead  of 
a  kingdom  to  them,  meiis  mihi  pro  regno. 

Let  us,  therefore,  when  any  lawless  passions  begin  to  stir,  deal  with  our 
souls  as  God  did  with  Jonah,  '  Doest  thou  well  to  be  angry  ?'  Jonah  iv.  4, 
to  fret  thus.  This  will  be  a  means  to  make  us  quiet ;  for,  alas !  what 
weak  reasons  have  we  often  of  strong  motions.  Such  a  man  gave  me  no 
respect,  such  another  looked  more  kindly  upon  another  man  than  upon  me, 
&c.    You  have  some  of  Haman's  spirit,  Esth.  v.  13,  that  for  a  little  neglect 


THE  soul's  conflict.  147 

would  ruin  a  whole  nation.  Passion  presents  men  that  are  innocent  as 
guilty  to  us,  facit  ira  nocentes  ;  and  because  we  will  not  seem  to  be  mad 
without  reason,  pride  commands  the  wit  to  justify  anger,  and  so  one  passion 
maintains  and  feeds  another. 

Obs.  2.  Neither  is  it  sufficient  to  cite  the  soul  hefore  itself ;  hut  it  must 
he  pressed  to  give  an  account,  as  we  see  here  David  doubles  and  trebles  the 
expostulation  ;  as  oft  as  any  distemper  did  arise,  so  oft  did  he  labour  to 
keep  it  down.  If  passions  grow  too  insolent,  Eli's  mildness  will  do  no 
good,  1  Sam.  ii.  24.  It  would  prevent  much  trouble  in  this  kind  to  subdue 
betimes,  in  ourselves  and  others,  the  fii'st  beginnings  of  any  unruly  passions 
and  aflPections  ;  which,  if  they  be  not  well  tutored  and  disciplined  at  the 
first,  prove  as  headstrong,  unruly,  and  ill  nurtm-ed  children,  who,  being  not 
chastened  in  time,  take  such  a  head,  that  it  is  oft  above  the  power  of 
parents  to  bring  them  in  order.  A  child  set  at  Uberty,  saith  Solomon, 
'breeds  shame,  at  length,  to  his  parents,'  Prov.  xxix.  15.  Adonijah's 
example  shews  this.  The  like  may  be  said  of  the  affections  set  at  Uberty ; 
it  is  dangerous  to  redeem  a  httle  quiet  by  yielding  to  our  affections,  which 
is  never  safely  gotten  but  by  mortification  of  them. 

Those  that  are  in  great  place  are  most  in  danger,  by  yielding  to  them- 
selves, to  lose  themselves  ;  for  they  are  so  taken  up  with  the  person  for  a 
time  put  upon  them,  that  they,  both  in  look  and  speech  and  carriage,  often 
shew  that  they  forget  both  their  natural  condition  as  men,  and  much  more 
their  supernatural  as  Christians  ;  and  therefore  are  scarce  counselable  by 
others  or  themselves  in  those  things  that  concern  their  severed  condition, 
that  concerneth  another  world.  Whereas  it  were  most  wisdom  so  to  think  of 
their  place  they  bear,  whereby  they  are  called  gods,  Ps.  Ixxxii.  6,  7,  as  not 
to  forget  they  must  lay  their  person  aside,  and  '  die  like  men,'  2  Sam. 
xxiv.  4.  David  himself  that  in  his  afflicted  condition  could  advise  with  him- 
self, and  check  himself,  yet  in  his  free  and  flourishing  estate  neglected  the 
counsel  of  his  friends.  Agur  was  in  jealousy  of  a  full  condition,  and  lest 
instead  of  saying,  what  have  I  done  ?  why  am  I  thus  cast  down,  &c.,  he 
should  say,  '  Who  is  the  Lord?'  Prov.  xxx.  9. 

Meaner  men  in  their  lesser  sphere  often  shew  what  their  spirits  would 
be,  if  their  compass  were  enlarged. 

It  is  a  great  fault  in  breeding  youth,  for  fear  of  taking  down  of  their 
spirits,  not  to  take  down  their  pride,  and  get  victory  of  their  affections  : 
whereas  a  proud  unbroken  heart  raiseth  us  more  trouble  often  than  all  the 
world  beside.  Of  all  troubles,  the  trouble  of  a  proud  heart  is  the  gi'eatest. 
It  was  a  great  trouble  to  Haman  to  lead  Mordecai's  horse,  Esth.  vi.  1,  which 
another  man  would  not  have  thought  so  ;  the  moving  of  a  straw  is  trouble- 
some to  proud  flesh.  And  therefore  it  is  good  to  '  bear  the  yoke  from  our 
youth,'  Lam.  iii.  27  ;  it  is  better  to  be  taken  down  in  youth,  than  to  be 
broken  in  pieces  by  great  crosses  in  age.  First  or  last,  self-denial  and 
victory  over  om'selves  is  absolutely  necessary  ;  otherwise  faith,  which  is  a 
grace  that  requireth  self-denial,  will  never  be  brought  into  the  soul,  and 
bear  rule  there. 

Quest.  But,  what  if  pressing  upon  our  souls  wiU  not  help  ? 

Ans.  Then  speak  to  God,  to  Jesus  Christ  by  prayer,  that  as  he  rebuked 
the  winds  and  the  waves,  and  went  upon  the  sea,  so  he  would  walk  upon 
our  souls,  and  command  a  calm  there.  It  is  no  less  power  to  settle  a  peace 
in  the  soul,  than  to  command  the  seas  to  be  quiet.  It  is  God's  prerogative 
to  rule  in  the  heart,  as  Ukewise  to  give  it  up  to  itself,  which,  next  to  hell 
is  the  greatest  judgment ;  which  should  draw  us  to  the  greater  reverence 


148  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

and  fear  of  displeasing  God.  It  was  no  ill  wish  of  him,*  that  desired  God 
to  free  him  from  an  ill  man,  himself.  Domine,  libera  me  a  malo  homines 
meipso. 

Chapteb  VI. — Other  observations  of  the  same  nature. 

Obs.  3.  Moreover  we  see  that  a  godly  man  can  cast  a  restraint  upon  him- 
self, as  David  here  stays  himself  in  falling.  There  is  a  principle  of  grace, 
that  stops  the  heart,  and  pulls  in  the  reins  again  when  the  affections  are 
loose.  A  carnal  man,  when  he  begins  to  be  cast  down,  sinks  lower  and 
lower,  until  he  sinks  into  despair,  as  lead  sinks  into  the  bottom  of  the  sea. 
'  They  sunk,  they  sunk,  like  lead  in  the  mighty  waters,'  Exod.  xv.  5.  A 
carnal  man  sinks  as  a  heavy  body  to  the  centre  of  the  earth,  and  stays  not 
if  it  be  not  stopped  :  there  is  nothing  in  him  to  stay  him  in  falling,  as  we 
see  in  Ahithophel  and  Saul,  2  Sam.  xvii.  23,  who,  wanting  a  support,  found 
no  other  stay  but  the  sword's  point.  And  the  greater  their  parts  and  places 
are,  the  more  they  entangle  themselves ;  and  no  wonder,  for  they  are  to 
encounter  with  God  and  his  deputy,  conscience,  who  is  King  of  kings,  and 
Lord  of  lords.  When  Cain  was  cast  out  of  his  father's  house,  his  heart  and 
countenance  was  always  cast  down,  for  he  had  nothing  in  him  to  lift  it  up- 
wards. But  a  godly  man,  though  he  may  give  a  little  way  to  passion,  yet, 
as  David,  he  recovers  himself.  Therefore  as  we  would  have  any  good  evi- 
dence that  we  have  a  better  spirit  in  us  than  our  own,  greater  than  the  flesh 
or  the  world,  let  us,  in  all  troubles  we  meet  with,  gather  up  ourselves,  that 
the  stream  of  our  own  affections  carry  us  not  away  too  far. 

There  is  an  art  or  skill  of  bearing  troubles,  if  we  could  learn  it,  without 
overmuch  troubling  of  ourselves,  as  in  bearing  of  a  burden  there  is  a  way 
so  to  poise  it  that  it  weigheth  not  oyer  heavy  :  if  it  hangs  all  on  one  side, 
it  poises  the  body  down.  The  greater  part  of  our  troubles  we  pull  upon 
ourselves,  by  not  parting  our  care  so,  as  to  take  upon  us  only  the  care  of  duty, 
and  leave  the  rest  to  God  ;  and  by  minghng  our  passions  with  our  crosses, 
and  like  a  foolish  patient,  chewing  the  pills  which  we  should  swallow  down. 
We  dwell  too  much  upon  the  grief,  when  we  should  remove  the  soul  higher. 
We  are  nearest  neighbours  unto  ourselves.  When  we  suffer  grief,  like  a 
canker,  to  eat  into  the  soul,  and  like  a  fire  in  the  bones,  to  consume  the  marrow 
and  drink  up  the  spirits,  we  are  accessory  to  the  wrong  done  both  to  our 
bodies  and  souls :  we  waste  our  own  candle,  and  put  out  our  Hght. 

Obs.  4.  We  see  here  again,  that  a  godly  man  can  make  a  good  use  of 
privacy.  When  he  is  forced  to  be  alone  he  can  talk  with  his  God  and  him- 
self;  one  reason  whereof  is,  that  his  heart  is  a  treasury  and  storehouse  of 
divine  truths,  whence  he  can  speak  to  himself,  by  way  of  check,  or  encour- 
agement of  himself:  he  hath  a  Spirit  over  his  own  spirit,  to  teach  him  to 
make  use  of  that  store  he  hath  laid  up  in  his  heart.  The  Spirit  is  never 
nearer  him  than  when  by  way  of  witness  to  his  spirit  he  is  thus  comforted ; 
wherein  the  child  of  God  differs  from  another  man,  who  cannot  endure 
solitariness,  because  his  heart  is  empty  ;  he  was  a  stranger  to  God  before, 
and  God  is  a  stranger  to  him  now,  so  that  he  cannot  go  to  God  as  a  friend. 
And  for  his  conscience,  that  is  ready  to  speak  to  him  that  which  he  is  loth 
to  hear  :  and  therefore  he  counts  himself  a  torment  to  himself,  especially  in 
privacy. 

We  read  of  great  princes,  who  after  some  bloody  designs  were  as  terrible 
♦  Augustine. — Ed. 


THE  soul's  conflict.  149 

to  themselves,*  as  they  were  formerly  to  others,  and  therefore  could  never 
endure  to  be  awaked  in  the  night,  without  music  or  some  like  diversion. 
It  may  be,  we  may  be  cast  into  such  a  condition,  where  we  have  none  in 
the  world  to  comfort  us  ;  as  in  contagious  sickness,  when  none  may  come 
near  us,  we  may  be  in  such  an  estate  wherein  no  Mend  wiU  own  us.  And 
therefore  let  us  labour  now  to  be  acquainted  with  God  and  our  own 
hearts,  and  acquaint  our  hearts  with  the  comforts  of  the  Holy  Ghost ;  then, 
though  we  have  not  so  much  as  a  book  to  look  on,  or  a  friend  to  talk  with, 
yet  we  may  look  with  comfort  into  the  book  of  our  own  heart,  and  read 
what  God  hath  written  there  by  the  finger  of  his  Spirit.  All  books  are 
written  to  amend  this  one  book  of  our  heart  and  conscience.  Ideo  scribuntur 
oinnes  libri,  ut  emendetur  imm.  By  this  means  we  shall  never  want  a  divine  to 
comfort  us,  a  physician  to  cure  us,  a  counsellor  to  direct  us,  a  musician  to 
cheer  us,  a  controEer  to  check  us,  because,  by  help  of  the  word  and  Spirit, 
we  can  be  aU  these  to  ourselves. 

Obs.  5.  Another  thing  we  see  here,  that  God  hath  made  every  man  a 
governor  over  himself.  The  poor  man,  that  hath  none  to  govern,  yet  may  he 
be  a  king  in  himself.  It  is  the  natural  ambition  of  man's  heart  to  desire 
government,  as  we  see  in  the  bramble.  Judges  ix.  WeU  then,  let  us  make 
use  of  this  disposition  to  rule  ourselves.  Absalom  had  high  thoughts.  0,  if  I 
were  a  king,  I  would  do  so  and  so !  so  our  hearts  are  ready  to  promise,  if  I  were 
as  such  and  such  a  man  ia  such  and  such  a  place,  I  would  do  this  and  that. 

But  how  dost  thou  manage  thine  own  affections  ?  How  dost  thou  rule 
in  thine  house,  in  thyself?  Do  not  passions  get  the  upper  hand,  and 
keep  reason  under  foot  ?  When  we  have  learned  to  rule  over  our  own 
spirits  well,  then  we  may  be  fit  to  nile  over  others.  '  He  that  is  faithful 
in  a  little,  shall  be  set  over  more,'  Matt.  xxv.  21.  '  He  that  can  govern 
himself,'  in  the  wise  man's  judgment,  '  is  better  than  he  that  can  govern  a 
city,'  Prov.  xvi.  32.  He  that  cannot,  is  like  a  city  without  a  wall,  where 
those  that  are  in  may  go  out,  and  the  enemies  without  may  come  in  at  their 
pleasure.  So  where  there  is  not  a  government  set  up,  there  sin  breaks 
out,  and  Satan  breaks  iu  without  control. 

Ohs.  6.  See  again,  the  excellency  of  the  soul,  that  can  reflect  upon  itself,  and 
judge  of  whatsoever  comes  from  it.  A  godly  man's  care  and  trouble  is  especially 
about  his  soul,  as  David  here  looks  principally  to  that,  because  all  outward 
troubles  are  for  to  help  that.  When  God  touches  our  bodies,  our  estates, 
or  our  friends,  he  aims  at  the  soul  in  all.  God  will  never  remove  his  hand, 
tni  something  be  wrought  upon  the  soul,  as  '  David's  moisture  was  as  the 
drought  in  summer,'  Ps.  xxxii.  4,  so  that  he  roared,  and  carried  himseU 
unseemly  for  so  great  and  holy  a  man,  till  his  heart  was  subdued  to  deal 
without  aU  guile  with  God  in  confessing  his  sin ;  and  then  God  forgave  him 
the  iniquity  thereof,  and  healed  his  body  too.  In  sickness,  or  in  any  other 
trouble,  it  is  best  the  divine  should  be  before  the  physician,  and  that  men 
begin  where  God  begins.  In  great  fires,  men  look  first  to  their  jewels,  and 
then  to  their  lumber  ;  so  our  soul  is  our  best  jewel.  A  carnal,  worldly  man 
is  called,  and  well  caEed,  a  fleshly  man,  because  his  very  soul  is  flesh,  and 
there  is  nothing  but  the  world  in  him.  And  therefore,  when  aU  is  not  well 
within,  he  cries  out,  My  body  is  troubled,  my  state  is  broken,  my  friends 
fail  me,  &c. ;  but  all  this  while,  there  is  no  care  for  the  poor  soul,  to  settle 
a  peace  in  that. 

*  As  Charles  IX.  after  the  massacre  in  France.  Thuanus,  lib.  57.  Soranum  post 
casum  SanbartholomcRiim  nocturni  horrores  plerumque  interrumpebant  et  rursus 
adhibiti  symphoniaoi  expergefacto  conciliabant. 


350  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

The  possession  of  the  soul  is  the  richest  possession,  no  jewel  so  precious. 
The  account  for  our  own  souls,  and  the  souls  of  others,  is  the  greatest 
account,  and  therefore  the  care  of  souls  should  be  the  greatest  care.  What 
an  indif^nity  is  it,  that  we  should  forget  such  souls  to  satisfy  our  lusts  !  to 
have  our  wills  !  to  be  vexed  with  any,  who  by  their  judgment,  example,  or 
authority,  stop,  as  we  suppose,  our  courses  !  Is  it  not  the  greatest  plot  in 
the  world,  first,  to  have  their  lusts  satisfied  ;  secondly,  to  remove,  either 
by  fraud  or  violence,  whatsoever  standeth  in  their  way  ;  and,  thirdly,  to  put 
colom-s  and  pretences  upon  this  to  delude  the  world  and  themselves, 
employing  aU  their  carnal  wit  and  worldly  strength  for  their  carnal  aims, 
and  fighting  for  that  which  fights  against  their  own  souls  ?  For,  what  will 
be  the  issue  of  this  but  certain  destruction  ? 

Of  this  mind  are  not  only  the  dregs  of  people,  but  many  of  the  more 
refined  sort,  who  desire  to  be  eminent  in  the  world ;  and  to  have  their  own 
desires  herein,  give  up  the  hberty  of  then-  own  judgments  and  consciences 
to  the  desires  and  lusts  of  others.  To  be  above  others,  they  will  be  beneath 
themselves,  having  those  men's  persons  in  admiration  for  hope  of  advantage, 
whom  otherwise  they  despise  ;  and  so,  substituting  in  their  spirits  man 
in  the  place  of  Grod,  lose  heaven  for  earth,  and  bury  that  divine  spark,  their 
souls,  capable  of  the  divine  nature,  and  fitter  to  be  a  sanctuary  and  temple 
for  God  to  dwell  in,  than  by  closing  with  baser  things  to  become  base  itself. 
We  need  not  wonder  that  others  seem  base  to  carnal  men,  who  are  base 
both  in  and  to  themselves.  It  is  no  wonder  they  should  be  cruel  to  the 
souls  of  others,  who  are  cruel  to  their  own  souls  ;  that  they  should  neglect 
and  starve  others,  that  give  away  their  own  souls  in  a  manner  for  nothing. 
Alas !  upon  what  poor  terms  do  they  hazard  that,  the  nature  and  worth 
whereof  is  beyond  man's  reach  to  comprehend  !  Many  are  so  careless  in 
this  kind,  that  if  they  were  thoroughly  persuaded  that  they  had  souls  that 
should  hve  for  ever,  either  in  bhss  or  torment,  we  might  the  more  easily 
work  upon  them.  But  as  they  Uve  by  sense,  as  beasts,  so  they  have  no 
more  thoughts  of  future  times  than  beasts,  except  at  such  times  as  con- 
science is  awaked  by  some  sudden  judgment,  whereby  God's  wrath  is  revealed 
from  heaven  against  them.  But  happy  were  it  for  them,  if  they  might  die 
like  beasts,  whose  misery  dies  with  them. 

To  such  an  estate  hath  sin  brought  the  soul,  that  it  wilUngly  drowneth 
itself  in  the  senses,  and  becomes,  in  some  sort,  incarnate  with  the  flesh. 

We  should  therefore  set  om-selves  to  have  most  care  of  that,  which  God 
cares  most  for,  which  he  breathed  into  us  at  fiirst,  set  his  own  image  upon, 
gave  so  great  a  price  for,  and  values  above  aU  the  world  besides.  Shall  aU 
our  study  be  to  satisfy  the  desires  of  the  flesh,  and  neglect  this  ? 

Is  it  not  a  vanity  to  prefer  the  casket  before  the  jewel,  the  shell  before 
the  pearl,  the  gilded  potsherd  before  the  treasure  ?  and  is  it  not  much 
more  vanity  to  prefer  the  outward  condition  h^fore  the  inward  ?  The  soul  is 
that  which  Satan  and  his  hath  most  spite  at,  for  in  troubling  our  bodies  or 
estates,  he  aims  at  the  vexation  of  our  souls.  As  in  Job  (ch.  i.)  his  aim 
was  to  abuse  that  power  God  had  given  him  over  his  children,  body,  and 
goods,  to  make  him,  out  of  a  disquieted  spirit,  blaspheme  God.  It  is  an  ill 
method  to  begin  our  care  in  other  things,  and  neglect  the  soul,  as  Ahithophel, 
who  set  his  house  in  order,  when  he  should  have  set  his  soul  in  order  first, 
2  Sam.  xvii.  23.  Wisdom  begins  at  the  right  end.  If  all  be  well  at  home, 
it  comforts  a  man,  though  he  meets  with  troubles  abroad.  Oh,  saith  he,  I 
shall  have  rest  at  home  ;  I  have  a  loving  wife  and  dutiful  children  :  so 
whatsoever  we  meet  withal  abroad,  if  the  soul  be  quiet,  thither  we  can 


THE  soul's  conflict.  151 

retire  with  comfort.  See  that  all  be  well  within,  and  then  all  troubles  from 
without  cannot  much  annoy  us. 

Grace  will  teach  us  to  reason  thus — God  hath  given  mine  enemies  power 
over  my  liberty  and  condition,  but  shall  they  have  power  and  hberty  over 
my  spirit  ?  It  is  that  which  Satan  and  they  most  seek  for  ;  but  never 
yield,  0  my  soul !  and  thus  a  godly  man  will  become  more  than  a  con- 
queror ;  when  in  appearance  he  is  conquered,  the  cause  prevails,  his  spirit 
prevails,  and  is  undaunted.  A  Christian  is  not  subdued  till  his  spirit  is 
subdued.  Thus  Job  prevailed  over  Satan  and  aU  his  troubles,  at  length. 
This  tormenteth  proud  persons,  to  see  godly  men  enjoy  a  calm  and  resolut* 
frame  of  mind  in  the  midst  of  troubles  ;  when  their  enemies  are  more 
troubled  in  troubling  them,  than  they  are  in  being  troubled  by  them. 

Obs,  7.  We  see  hkewise  here,  how  to  frame  our  comj^laints.  David  com- 
plains not  of  God,  nor  of  his  troubles,  nor  of  others,  but  of  his  own  soul;  he 
complains  of  himself  to  bj-msfilf.  as  if  he  should  say.  Though  aU  things  else  I 
be  out  of  order,  yet,  0  my  soul,  thou  shouldst  not  trouble  me  too,  thou  I 
shouldst  not  betray  thyself  unto  troubles,  but  rule  over  them.  A  godly  " 
man  complains  to  God,  yet  not  of  God,  but  of  himself.  A  carnal  man  is 
ready  to  justify  himself  and  complain  of  God,  he  complains  not  to  God,  but 
of  God,  at  the  least,  in  secret  murmuring,  he  complains  of  others  that  are 
but  God's  vials  ;  he  complains  of  the  grievance  that  lies  upon  him,  but 
never  regards  what  is  amiss  in  himself  within  ;  openly  he  cries  out  upon 
fortune,  yet  secretly  he  striketh  at  God,  under  that  idol  of  fortune,  by 
whose  guidance  all  things  come  to  pass  ;  whilst  he  quarrels  with  that  which 
is  nothing,  he  wounds  him  that  is  the  cause  of  aU  things  ;  like  a  gouty  man 
that  complains  of  his  shoe,  and  of  his  bed,  or  an  aguish  man  of  his  drink, 
when  the  cause  is  from  within.  So  men  are  disquieted  with  others,  when, 
they  should  rather  be  disquieted  and  angry  with  their  own  hearts. 

We  conaemn  Jonah  for  contenamg  with  God,  and  justifying  his  unjust 
anger,  but  yet  the  same  risings  are  in  men  naturally,  if  shame  would  suflfer 
them  to  give  vent  to  their  secret  discontent ;  their  heart  speaks  what 
Jonah  his  tongue  spake.  Oh  !  but  here  we  should  lay  our  hand  upon  our 
mouth,  and  adore  God,  and  command  silence  to  our  souls. 

No  man  is  hurt  but  by  himself  first.  We  are  drawn  to  evil,  and  allured 
from  a  true  good  to  a  false  by  our  own  lusts,  *  God  tempts  no  man,'  James 
i.  13.  Satan  hath  no  power  over  us  further  than  we  willingly  he  open  to 
him.  Satan  works  upon  our  affections,  and  then  our  affections  work  upon  |l 
our  will.  He  doth  not  work  unmecliately  upon  the  wiU.  We  may  thank  *• 
ourselves  in  willingly  yielding  to  our  own  passions,  for  all  that  ill  Satan  or 
his  instruments  draws  us  unto.  Saul  was  not  vexed  with  an  evil  spirits 
1  Sam.  xvi,,  till  he  gave  way  to  his  own  evil  spirit  of  envy  first.     The  devil 

entered   not   info    Jnfla.g,  Mgi.  xxvii.  3,  Unt.i1    his   rATTotmiQ  ViAorf.  TTiarlp  way  . 

for  him.  "Tha  ap'ostle  strengtheneth  his  conceit  against  rash  and  lasting 
anger  from  hence,  that  by  this  we  give  way  to  the  devil,  Eph.  iv.  27.  It 
is  a  dangerous  thing  to  pass  from  God's  government,  and  come  under 
Satan's. 

Satan  mingleth  himself  with  our  own  passions,  therefore  we  should 
blame  ourselves  first,  be  ashamed  of  ourselves  most,  and  judge  ourselves 
most  severely.  But  self-love  teacheth  us  a  contrary  method,  to  translate 
aU  upon  others  ;  it  robs  us  of  a  right  judgment  of  ourselves.  Though  we 
desii'e  to  know  all  diseases  of  the  body  by  their  proper  names,  yet  we  wil' 
conceive  of  sinful  passions  of  the  soul  under  milder  tenns  ;  as  lust  undei 
love,  rage  under  just  anger,  murmuring  under  just  displeasure,  &c.     Thus 


152  THE  soul's  conflict. 

whilst  we  flatter  our  grief,  what  hope  of  cure  !  Thus  sin  hath  not  only 
made  all  the  creatures  enemies  to  us,  but  ourselves  the  greatest  enemies  to 
ourselves  ;  and  therefore  we  should  begin  our  complaints  against  oui'selves, 
and  discuss  ourselves  thoroughly.  How  else  shall  we  judge  truly  of  other 
things  without  us,  above  us,  or  beneath  us  ?  The  sun  when  it  rises, 
enlightens  first  the  nearest  places,  and  then  the  more  remote  ;  so  where 
true  light  is  set  up,  it  discovers  what  is  amiss  within  first. 

Obs.  8.  Hence  also  we  see,  that  as  in  all  discouragements  a  godly  man 
hath  most  trouble  with  his  own  heart,  so  he  knows  liow  to  carry  himself  therein, 
as  David  doth  here. 

For  the  better  clearing  of  this,  we  must  know  there  be  divers  kinds  and 
degrees  of  conflicts  in  the  soul  of  man  whilst  it  is  united  to  the  body. 

1.  First,  between  one  corrupt  passion  and  another,  as  between  covetous- 
ness  and  pride  ;  pride  calls  for  expense,  covetousness  for  restraint.  Oft 
passions  fight  not  only  against  God  and  reason,  to  which  they  owe  a  homage, 
but  one  against  another ;  sin  fights  against  sin,  and  a  lesser  sin  is  oftentimes 
overcome  by  a  greater.  The  soul  in  this  case  is  Uke  the  sea  tossed  with 
contrary  winds  :  and  like  a  kingdom  divided,  wherein  the  subjects  fight  both 
against  their  prince,  and  one  against  another. 

2.  Secondly,  there  is  a  natural  conflict  in  the  afi'ections,  whereby  nature 
seeks  to  preserve  itself,  as  betwixt  anger  and  fear ;  anger  calls  for  revenge, 
fear  of  the  law  binds  the  soul  to  be  quiet.  We  see  in  the  creatures,  fear 
makes  them  abstain  from  that  which  their  appetites  cany  them  unto.  A 
wolf  comes  to  the*  flock  with  an  eagerness  to  prey  upon  it,  but  seeing  the 
shepherd  standing  in  defence  of  his  sheep,  returns  and  doth  no  harm  ;  and 
yet  for  aU  this,  as  he  came  a  wolf,  so  he  returns  a  wolf. 

A  natural  man  may  oppose  some  sin  from  an  obstinate  resolution  against 
it,t  not  from  any  love  of  God,  or  hatred  of  sin,  as  sin,  but  because  he  con- 
ceives it  a  brave  thing  to  have  his  will ;  as  one  hard  weapon  may  strike  at 
another,  as  a  stone  wall  may  beat  back  an  arrow.  But  this  opposition  is  not 
from  a  contrariety  of  nature,  as  is  betwixt  fire  and  water. 

3.  Thirdly,  there  is  a  conflict  of  a  higher  nature,  as  between  some  sins 
and  the  light  of  reason  helped  by  a  natural  conscience.  The  heathen  could 
reason  from  the  dignity  of  the  soul,  to  count  it  a  base  thing  to  prostitutt; 
themselves  to  beastly  lusts,  so  as  it  were  degrading  and  unmanning  them- 
selves. Major  sum  et  ad  majoranatus  quwn  ut  corporis  met  sim  mancipiwii. 
(Seneca,  Ep.  65).  Natural  men,  desirous  to  maintain  a  great  opinion  of  them- 
selves, and  to  awe  the  inferior  sort  by  gravity  of  deportment  in  carriage,  will 
abstain  from  that  which  otherwise  their  hearts  carry  them  unto,  lest  yielding 
should  render  them  despised,  by  laying  themselves  too  much  open  ;  as  be- 
cause passion  discovers  a  fool  as  he  is,  and  makes  a  wise  man  thought  meaner 
than  he  is  ;  therefore  a  prudent  man  will  conceal  his  passion.  Reason 
refined  and  raised  by  education,  example,  and  custom,  doth  break  in  some 
degree  the  force  of  natm-ai  corruption,  and  brings  into  the  soul,  as  it  were, 
another  nature,  and  yet  no  true  change  ;  as  we  see  in  such  as  have  been 
inured  to  good  courses,  they  feel  conscience  checking  them  upon  the  fii'st 
discontinuance  and  alteration  of  their  former  good  ways,  but  this  is  usually 
from  a  former  impression  of  their  breeding,  as  the  boat  moves  some  little 
time  upon  the  water  by  virtue  of  the  former  stroke  ;  yet  at  length  we  see 
corruption  prevailing  over  education,  as  in  Jehoash,  wko  was  awed  by  the 

*  '  A,'  in  0. 

T  'A  natural  ....  love.  In  A  reads,  '  a  natural  man  may  oppose  an  obstinate 
resolution  to  commit  some  sin  not  from  love.'    Corrected  in  B  as  above. — G. 


THE  soul's  conflict.  153 

reverent  respect  he  bare  to  his  uncle  Jehoiada,  he  was  good  '  all  his  uncle's 
days,'  2  Kings  xii.  2.  And  in  Nero,  in  whom  the  goodness  of  his  educa- 
tion prevailed  over  the  fierceness  of  his  nature,  for  the  first  five  years  [a). 

4.  Fourthly,  but  in  the  church,  where  there  shineth  a  light  above  nature. _ 
as  there  is  a  discovery  of  more  sins,  and  some  strength,  with  the  Ught  to 
perform  more  duty  ;  so  there  is  a  farther  conflict  than  in  a  man  that  hath 
no  better  than  nature  m  fiim.  By  a  discovery  of  the  excellent  things  ot 
the  gospel,  there  may  be  some  kind  of  joy  stirred  up,  and  some  degree  of 
obedience :  whence  there  may  be  some  degree  of  resistance  against  the  sins 
of  the  gospel,  as  obstinate  unbelief,  desperation,  profaneness,  &c.  A  man 
in  the  church  may  do  more  than  another  out  of  the  church,  by  reason  of  the 
enlargement  of  his  knowledge  ;  whereupon  such  cannot  sin  at  so  easy  a  rate 
as  others  that  know  less,  and,  therefore,  meet  with  less  opposition  from 
conscience. 

6.  Fifthly,  There  is  yet  a  further  degree  of  conflict  betwixt  the  sanctified 
powers  of  the  soul  and  the  flesh,  not  only  as  it  is  seated  in  the  baser  parts, 
but  even  in  the  best  faculties  of  the  soul,  and  as  it  mingles  itself  with 
every  gracious  performance :  as  in  David,  there  is  not  only  a  conflict  be- 
tween sin  and  conscience,  enlightened  by  a  common  work  of  the  Spirit ; 
but  between  the  commanding  powers  of  the  soul  sanctified,  and  itself  un- 
sanctified,  between  reasons  of  the  flesh  and  reasons  of  the  Spirit,  between 
faith  and  distrust,  between  the  true  light  of  knowledge  and  false  Ught. 
For  it  is  no  question  but  the  flesh  would  play  its  part  in  David,  and  muster 
up  aU  the  strength  of  reason  it  had.  And  usually  flesh,  as  it  is  more 
ancient  than  the  spirit,  we  being  first  natural,  then  spiritual,  so  it  will  put 
itself  first  forward  in  devising  shifts,  as  Esau  comes  out  of  the  womb  first 
before  Jacob,  Gen.  xxv.  25 ;  yet  hereby  the  spirit  is  stirred  up  to  a  present 
examination  and  resistance,  and  in  resisting,  as  we  see  here,  at  length  the 
godly  gets  the  victory.  As  in  the  conflict  between  the  higher  parts  of  the 
soul  with  the  lower,  it  clearly  appears  that  the  soul  doth  not  rise  out  of  the 
temper  of  the  body,  but  is  a  more  noble  substance,  commanding  the  body 
by  reasons  fetched  from  its  own  worth;  so  in  this  spiritual  conflict,  it  appears 
there  is  something  better  than  the  soul  itself,  that  hath  superiority  over  it. 

Chaptee  Vn. — Difference  betu-een  good  men  and  others  in  conflicts 

with  sin. 

Quest.  But  how  doth  it  appear  that  this  combat  in  David  was  a  spiritual 
combat  ? 

Ans.  1.  First,  A  natural  conscience  is  troubled  for  sins  against  the  light  of 
nature  only,  but  David  for  inward  and  secret  corruptions,  as  discourage- 
ment and  disquietness  arising  fr'om  faint- trusting  in  God. 

David's  conflict  was  not  only  with  the  sensual,  lower  part  of  his  soul, 
which  is  carried  to  ease  and  quiet  and  love  of  present  things,  but  he  was 
troubled  with  a  mutiny  in  his  understanding  between  faith  and  distrust ; 
and  therefore  he  was  forced  to  rouse  up  his  soul  so  oft  to  trust  in  God ; 
which  shews  that  carnal  reason  did  solicit  him  to  discontent,  and  had  many 
colourable  reasons  for  it. 

2.  Secondly,  A  man  endued  with  common  grace  is  rather  a  patient  than 
an  agent  in  conflicts;  the  light  troubles  him  against  his  will,  as  discovering 
and  reproving  him,  and  hindering  his  sinful  contentments  ;  his  heart  is 
more  biassed  another  way  if  the  Ught  would  let  him ;  but  a  godly  man 
labours  to  help  the  light,  and  to  work  his  heart  to  an  oppo.^ition  against 


154  THE  soul's  conflict. 

sin ;  he  is  an  agent  as  well  as  a  patient.  As  David  here  doth  not  suffer 
disquieting,  but  is  disquieted  with  himself  for  being  so.  A  godly  man  is 
an  agent  in  opposing  his  corruption,  and  a  patient  in  enduring  of  it, 
whereas  a  natural  man  is  a  secret  agent  in  and  for  his  corruptions,  and  a 
patient  ia  regard  of  any  help  against  them ;  a  good  man  suffers  evil  and 
doth  good,  a  natural  man  suffers  good  and  doth  evil. 

3.  Thirdly,  A  conscience  guided  by  common  light  withstands  distempers 
most  by  outward  means;  but  David  here  fetcheth  help  from  the  Spirit  of 
God  in  him,  and  from  trust  in  God.  Nature  works  from  withiu,  so  doth 
the  new  nature.  David  is  not  only  something  disquieted,  and  something 
troubled  for  beiag  disquieted,  but  sets  himself  thoroughly  against  his 
distempers  ;  he  complains  and  expostulates,  he  censures  and  chargeth  his 
soul.  The  other,  if  he  doth  anything  at  all,  yet  it  is  faintly ;  he  seeks  out 
his  corruption  as  a  coward  doth  his  enemy,  loath  to  find  him,  and  more 
loath  to  encounter  him. 

4.  Fourthly,  David  withstands  sin  constantly,  and  gets  ground.  We  see 
here  he  gives  norover  at  the  first,  but  presseth  again  and  again.  Nature 
works  constantly,  so  doth  the  new  nature.  The  conflict  in  the  other  is 
something  forced,  as  taking  part  with  the  worser  side  in  himself;  good 
things  have  a  weak,  or  rather  no  party  in  him,  bad  things  a  strong ;  and 
therefore  he  soon  gives  over  in  this  holy  quarrel. 

5.  Fifthly,  David  is  not  discouraged  by  his  foils,*  but  sets  himself  a,fresh 
against  his  corruptions,  with  confidence  to  bring  them  under.  "Whereas  he 
that  liatn  but  a  common  work  of  the  Spirit,  after  some  toils;"  lets  his  enemy 
prevail  more  and  more,  and  so  despairs  of  victory,  and  thinks  it  better  to 
sit  stiU  than  to  rise  and  take  a  new  fall ;  by  which  means  his  latter  end 
is  worse  than  his  beginning ;  for  beginning  in  the  spirit,  he  ends  in  the 
flesh.  A  godly  man,  although  upon  some  foil,  he  may  for  a  time  be  dis- 
couraged, yet  by  holy  indignation  against  sin  he  renews  his  force,  and  sets 
afresh  upon  his  corruptions,  and  gathers  more  strength  by  his  falls,  and 
groweth  into  more  acquaintance  with  his  own  heart  and  Satan's  malice, 
and  God's  strange  ways  in  bringing  light  out  of  darkness. 

6.  Sixthly,  An  ordinary  Christian  may  be  disquieted  for  beiag  disquieted, 
as  David  was,  but  then  it  is  only  as  disquiet  hath  vexation  in  it;  but  David 
here  striveth  against  the  unquietness  of  his  spirit,  not  only  as  it  brought 
vexation  with  it,  but  as  it  hindered  communion  with  his  God. 

In  sin  there  is  not  only  a  guilt  binding  over  the  soul  to  God's  judgment, 
and  thereupon  filling  the  soul  with  inward  fears  and  terrors ;  but  in  sin 
likewise  there  is — 1,  A  contrariety  to  God's  holy  nature;  and,  2,  A  con- 
trariety to  the  divine  nature  and  image  stamped  upon  ourselves ;  3,  A 
weakening  and  disabling  of  the  soul  from  good ;  and,  4,  A  hindering  of 
our  former  communion  with  God,  sin  being  in  its  nature  a  leaving  of  God, 
the  fountain  of  all  strength  and  comfort,  and  cleaving  to  the  creature. 
Hereupon  the  soul,  having  tasted  the  sweetness  of  God  before,  is  now 
grieved,  and  this  grief  is  not  only  for  the  guilt  and  trouble  that  sin  draws 
after  it,  but  from  an  inward  antipathy  and  contrariety  betwixt  the  sanctified 
soul  and  sin.  It  hates  sin  as  sin,  as  the  only  bane  and  poison  of  renewed 
nature,  and  the  only  thing  that  breeds  strangeness  betwixt  God  and  the 
soul.  And  this  hatred  is  not  so  much  from  discourse  and  strength  of 
reason,  as  from  nature  itself  rising  presently  against  its  enemy ;  the  lamb 
presently  shuns  the  wolf  from  a  contrariety :  antipathies  wait  not  for  any 
strong  reason,  but  are  exercised  upon  the  fii'st  presence  of  a  contrary  object. 
*  That  is,  '  defeats.' — En. 


I 


THE  soul's  conflict.  155 

7.  Seventhly,  Hereupon  ariseth  the  last  difference,  that  because  the  soul 
hateth  sin  as  sin,  therefore  it  opposeth  it  universally  and  eternally,  in  all  the 
poivers  of  the  soul;  and  in  all  actions,  inicard  and  outward,  issuing  from  those 
powers.  David  regarded  no  iniquity  in  his  heart,  but  hated  every  evil  way, 
Ps.  Ixvi.  18 ;  the  desires  of  his  soul  were,  that  it  might  be  so  directed  that 
he  might  keep  God's  law,  Ps.  cxix.  5.  And  if  there  had  been  no  binding 
law,  yet  there  was  such  a  sweet  sympathy  and  agreement  betwixt  his  soul 
and  God's  truth,  that  he  delighted  in  it  above  all  natural  sweetness ;  hence 
it  is  that  St  John  saith,  '  He  that  is  born  of  God  cannot  sin,'  1  John  iii. 
9 ;  that  is,  so  far  forth  as  he  is  born  of  God,  his  new  nature  will  not  suffer 
him ;  he  cannot  lie,  he  cannot  deceive,  he  cannot  be  earthly-minded,  he 
cannot  but  love  and  delight  in  the  persons  and  things  that  are  good. 
There  is  not  only  a  light  in  the  understanding,  but  a  new  life  in  the  will, 
and  all  other  faculties  of  a  godly  man;  what  good  his  knowledge  dis- 
covereth,  that  his  wiU  makes  choice  of,  and  his  heart  loveth ;  what  ill  his 
understanding  discovers,  that  his  will  hateth  and  abstains  from.  But  ui  a 
man  not  thoroughly  converted,  the  will  and  affections  are  bent  otherwise  ; 
he  loves  not  the  good  he  doth,  nor  hates  the  evil  he  doth  not. 

Use.  Therefore  let  us  make  a  narrow  search  into  our  souls  upon  what  i^ 
grounds  we  oppose  sm,  and  fight  God's  battles.  A  common  Christian  is 
not  cast  down  because  hy  is  disquieted  in  God's  service,  or  for  his  inward 
failings  that  he  cannot  serve  God  with  that  liberty  and  freedom  he  desires, 
&c.  But  a  godly  man  is  troubled  for  his  distempers,  because  they  hinder 
the  comfortable  intercourse  betwixt  God  and  his  soul,  and  that  spiritual 
composedness  and  sabbath  of  spirit,  which  he  enjoyed  before,  and  desires 
to  enjoy  again.  He  is  troubled  that  the  waters  of  his  soul  are  troubled  so 
that  the  image  of  Christ  shines  not  in  him  as  it  did  before.  It  grieves  him 
to  find  an  abatement  in  affection,  in  love  to  God,  a  distraction  or  coldness 
in  performing  duties,  any  doubting  of  God's  favour,  any  discouragement 
from  duty,  &c.  A  godly  man's  comforts  and  ffl'itivahces  are  hid  from  the 
world ;  natural  men  are  stri^ngers  to  them.  Let  this  be  a  rule  ot  discern- 
ing om-  estates,  how  we  stand  affected  to  the  distempers  ot  our  hearts ;  if 
we  Und  them  troublesome,  it  is  a  ground  of  comfort  unto  us  that  our  spirits 
sje  rulea  by  a  higher  "Spirit ;  and  that  there  is  a  prmciple  of  tliat  iile  m 
us,  winch  cannot  brook  the  most  secret  corruption,  but  rather  casts  it  out 
By  a  holy  complaint,  as  strength  of  nature  doth"  poison,  which  seeks  its 
destruction.  And  let  us  be  in  love  with  that  work  of  grace  m  us,  which 
makes  us  out  of  love  with  the  least  stirrings  that  hinder  our  best  condition. 

Obs.  9.  See  again,  We  may  he  sinfully  disquieted  for  that  which  is  not  a 
sin  to  be  disquieted  for.  David  had  sinned  if  he  had  not  been  somewhat 
troubled  for  the  banishment  from  God's  house,  and  the  blasphemy  of  the 
enemies  of  the  church ;  but  yet,  we  see,  he  stops  himself,  and  sharply 
takes  up  his  soul  for  being  disquieted.  He  did  well  in  being  disquieted, 
and  in  checking  himself  for  the  same  ;  there  were  good  groimds  for  both. 
He  had  wanted  spiritual  life  if  he  had  not  been  disquieted,  [but]  he  abated 
the  vigour  and  hveliness  of  his  life  by  being  overmuch  disquieted. 


Chapter  Vin. — Of  unfitting  dejection,  and  when  it  is  excessive.     And  what 
is  the  right  temper  of  the  soul  lierein. 

Quest.  §  I.  Then,  how  shall  we  know  when  a  man  is  cast  down  and  disquieted, 
otherwise  than  is  befitting  ? 


X56  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

Am.  There  is  a  threefold  miscarriage  of  inward  trouble. 

1.  When  the  soul  is  troubled  for  that  it  should  not  he  vexed  for,  as  Ahab, 
when  he  was  crossed  in  his  will  for  Naboth's  -vineyard,  1  Kings  xxi.  1,  2, 

seq. 

2.  In  the  ground,  as  when  we  grieve  for  that  which  is  good,  and  for  that 
which  we  should  grieve  for  ;  but  it  is  with  too  much  reflecting  upon  our  own 
particular. 

As  in  the  troubles  of  the  state  or  church,  we  ought  to  be  affected ;  but 
not  because  these  troubles  hinder  any  liberties  of  the  flesh,  and  restrain 
pride  of  life,  but  from  higher  respects  ;  as  that,  by  these  troubles  God  is 
dishonoured,  the  public  exercises  of  religion  hindered,  and  the  gathering  of 
souls  thereby  stopped,  as  the  states  and  commonwealths,  which  should  be 
harbours  of  the  church,  are  disturbed,  as  lawless  courses  and  persons  pre- 
vail, as  religion  and  justice  are  triumphed  over  and  trodden  under.  Men 
usually  are  grieved  for  pubUc  miseries  from  a  spirit  of  self-love  only,  be- 
cause their  own  private  is  embarked  in  the  public.  There  is  a  depth  of 
deceit  of  the  heart  in  this  matter. 

3.  So  for  the  measure,  when  we  trouble  ourselves,  though  not  without 
cause,  yet  without  bounds. 

The  spirit  of  man  is  Uke  unto  moist  elements,  as  air  and  water,  which 
nave  no  bounds  of  their  own  to  contain  them  in,  but  those  of  the  vessel 
that  keeps  them.  Water  is  spilt  and  lost  without  something  to  hold  it,  so 
it  is  with  the  spirit  of  man,  unless  it  be  bounded  with  the  Spirit  of  God. 
Put  the  case,  a  man  be  disquieted  for  sin,  for  which  not  to  be  disquieted 
is  a  sin,  yet  we  may  look  too  much,  and  too  long  upon  it ;  for  the  soul 
hath  a  double  eye,  one  to  look  to  sin,  another  to  look  up  to  God's  mercy  in 
Christ.  Having  two  objects  to  look  on,  we  may  sin  in  looking  too  much 
on  the  one,  with  neglect  of  the  other. 

Quest.  §  n.  Seeing  then,  disquieting  and  dejection  for  sin  is  necessary,  how 
shall  we  know  when  it  exceeds  measure  ? 

Ans.  1.  First,  when  it  hinders  us  from  holy  duties,  or  in  the  performance  of 
them,  by  distraction  or  otherwise  ;  whereas  they  are  given  to  carry  us  to  that 
which  is  pleasing  to  God,  and  good  to  ourselves. 

Grief  is  ill  when  it  taketh  off  the  soul  from  minding  that  it  should,  and 
BO  indisposeth  us  to  the  duties  of  our  caUings.  Christ  upon  the  cross  was 
grieved  to  the  utmost,  yet  it  did  not  take  away  his  care  for  his  mother, 
John  xix.  26,  27  :  so  the  good  thief,  Luke  xxiii.  42,  in  the  midst  of  his 
pangs  laboured  to  gain  his  fellow,  and  to  save  his  own  soul,  and  to  glorify 
Christ.  If  this  be  so  in  grief  of  body,  which  taketh  away  the  free  use  of 
reason  and  exercise  of  grace  more  than  any  other  grief,  then  much  more  in 
grief  from  more  remote  causes  ;  for  in  extremity  of  body  the  sickness  may 
be  such  as  all  that  we  can  perform  to  God  is  a  quiet  submission  and  a  desire 
to  be  carried  unto  Christ  by  the  prayers  of  others  ;  we  should  so  mind  our 
grief  as  not  to  forget  God's  mercy,  or  our  own  duty. 

2,  Secondly,  when  we  forget  the  grounds  of  comfort.,  and  suffer  our  mind 
to  run  only  upon  the  present  grievance.  It  is  a  sin  to  dwell  on  sin  and 
turmoil  our  thoughts  about  it,  when  we  are  called  to  thankfulness.  A 
physician  in  good  discretion  forbids  a  dish  at  some  times  to  prevent  the 
nourishment  of  some  disease,  which  another  time  he  gives  way  unto.  So 
we  may  and  ought  to  abstain  from  too  much  feeding  our  thoughts  upon  our 
coiTuptions  in  case  of  discouragement,  which  at  other  times  is  very  neces- 
sary.    It  should  be  our  wisdom  in  such  cases  to  change  the  object,  and 


THE  soul's  conflict.  157 

labour  to  take  off  our  minds,  and  give  them  to  that  which  calls  more  for 
them.  Grief  oft  passeth  unseasonably  upon  us,  when  there  is  cause  of 
joy,  and  when  we  are  called  to  joy ;  as  Joab  justly  found  fault  with  David 
for  grieving  too  much,  when  God  had  given  him  the  victory,  and  rid  him 
and  the  state  of  a  traitorous  son,  2  Sam.  xix,  5,  seq.  God  hath  made  some 
days  for  joy,  and  joy  is  the  proper  work  of  those  days.  '  This  is  the  day 
which  the  Lord  hath  made,'  Ps.  cxviii.  24.  Some  in  a  sick  distemper 
desire  that  which  increaseth  their  sickness ;  so  some  that  are  deeply  cast 
down,  desire  a  weakening*  ministry,  and  whatever  may  cast  them  down 
more,  whereas  they  should  meditate  upon  comforts,  and  get  some  sweet 
assurance  of  God's  love.  Joy  is  the  constant  temper  which  the  soul  should 
be  in.  *  Rejoice  evermore,'  1  Thes.  v.  16,  saith  the  apostle.  If  a  sink  be 
stirred,  we  stir  it  not  more,  but  go  into  a  sweeter  room.  So  we  should 
think  of  that  which  is  comfortable,  and  of  such  truths  as  may  raise  up  the 
soul,  and  sweeten  the  spirit. 

3.  Thirdly,  Grief  is  too  much,  when  it  inclines  the  soul  to  any  inconvenient 
courses :  for  if  it  be  not  looked  to,  it  is  an  ill  counsellor,  when  either  it  hurts 
the  health  of  our  bodies,  or  draws  the  soul,  for  to  ease  itself,  to  some  unlaw- 
ful liberty.  When  grief  keeps  such  a  noise  in  the  soul,  that  it  will  not 
hear  what  the  messengers  of  God,  or  the  still  voice  of  the  Spirit  saith.  As 
in  combustions,  loud  cries  are  scarce  heard,  so  in  such  cases  the  soul  will 
neither  hear  itself  nor  others.  The  fruit  of  this  overmuch  trouble  of  spirit 
is  increase  of  trouble. 

Quest.  §  III.  Another  question  may  be.  What  that  sweet  and  holy  temper  is 
the  soul  should  be  in,  that  it  may  neither  be  faulty  in  the  defect,  nor  too  much 
abound  in  grief  and  sorrow  ? 

Ans.  1.  The  soul  must  be  raised  to  a  right  grief. 

2.  The  grief  that  is  raised,  though  it  be  right,  yet  it  must  be  bounded. 
Before  we  speak  of  raising  grief  in  the  godly,  we  must  know  there  are  some 
who  are  altogether  strangers  to  any  kind  of  spiritual  grief  or  trouble  at  all ; 
such  must  consider,  that  the  way  to  prevent  everlasting  trouble,  is  to  desire 
to  be  troubled  with  a  preventing  trouble.  Let  those  that  are  not  in  the  way 
of  grace  think  with  themselves  what  cause  they  have  not  to  take  a  minute's 
rest  while  they  are  in  that  estate.  For  a  man  to  be  in  debt  both  body  and 
Boul,  subject  every  minute  to  be  arrested  and  carried  prisoner  to  hell,  and 
not  to  be  moved ;  for  a  man  to  have  the  wrath  of  God  ready  to  be  poured 
out  upon  him,  and  hell  gape  for  him,  nay,  to  carry  a  hell  about  him  in  con- 
science, if  it  were  awake,  and  to  have  all  his  comfort  here  hanging  upon  a 
weak  thread  of  this  life,  ready  to  be  cut  and  broken  off  every  moment,  and 
to  be  cursed  in  aU  those  blessings  that  he  enjoys  ;  and  yet  not  to  be  dis- 
quieted, but  continually  treasuring  up  wrath  against  the  day  of  wrath,  by 
running  deeper  into  God's  books  :  for  a  man  to  be  thus,  and  not  to  be  dis- 
quieted, is  but  the  devil's  peace,  whilst  the  strong  man  holds  possession. 
A  burning  ague  is  more  hopeful  than  a  lethargy.  The  best  service  that 
can  be  done  to  such  men,  is  to  startle  and  rouse  them,  and  so  with  violence 
to  puU  them  out  of  the  fire,  as  Jude  speaks,  ver.  23,  or  else  they  will 
another  day  curse  that  cruel  mercy  that  lets  them  alone  now.  In  all  their 
jollity  in  this  world,  they  are  but  as  a  book  fairly  bound,  which  when  it  is 
opened  is  fall  of  nothing  but  tragedies.  So  when  the  book  of  their  con- 
sciences shall  be  once  opened,  there  is  nothing  to  be  read  but  lamentations 
"  and  woes.  Such  men  were  in  a  way  of  hope,  if  they  had  but  so  much 
"  '  Weakening.'    In  A  and  B  '  wakening,'  but  corrocted  in  C  as  above. 


J58  THE  soul's  conflict. 

apprehension  of  their  estates,  as  to  ask  themselves,  *  What  have  I  done  ?' 
If  this  be  true  that  there  are  such  fearful  things  prepared  for  sinners,  vphy 
am  I  not  cast  down  ?  why  am  I  no  more  troubled  and  discouraged  for  my 
wicked  courses  ?  Despair  to  such  is  the  beginning  of  comfort ;  and  trouble 
the  bef^inniug  of  peace.  A  storm  is  the  way  to  a  calm,  and  hell  the  way  to 
heaven. 

(1.)  But  for  raising  of  a  right  grief  in  the  soul  of  a  holy  man,  look  what  is 
the  state  of  the  soul  in  itself,  in  what  terms  it  is  with  God :  whether  there  be 
any  sin  hanging  on  the  file  [b)  unrepented  of.  If  all  be  not  well  within  us, 
then  here  is  place  for  inward  trouble,  whereby  the  soul  may  afflict  itself. 

God  saw  this  grief  so  needful  for  his  people,  that  he  appointed  certain 
days  for  afflicting  them.  Lev.  xvi.  29  ;  because  it  is  fit  that  sin  contracted 
by  joy  should  be  dissolved  by  grief;  and  sin  is  so  deeply  invested  into  the 
soul,  that  a  separation  betwixt  the  soul  and  it  cannot  be  wrought  without 
much  grief.  When  the  soul  hath  smarted  for  sin,  it  sets  then  the  right 
price  upon  reconciUation  with  God  in  Christ,  and  it  feeleth  what  a  bitter 
thing  sin  is,  and  therefore  it  wiU  be  afraid  to  be  too  bold  with  it  afterward ; 
it  likewise  aweth  the  heart  so,  that  it  will  not  be  so  loose  towards  God  as  it 
was  before  ;  and  certainly  that  soul  that  hath  felt  the  sweetness  of  keeping 
peace  with  God,  cannot  but  take  deeply  to  heart,  that  there  should  be  any 
thing  in  us  that  should  divide  betwixt  us  and  the  fountain  of  our  comfort, 
that  should  stop  the  passage  of  our  prayers  and  the  current  of  God's  favours 
both  towards  ourselves  and  others ;  it  is  such  an  iU  as  is  the  cause  of  all 
other  ill,  and  damps  all  our  comforts. 

(2.)  We  should  look  out  of  ourselves  also,  considering  whether  for  troubles 
at  home  and  abroad,  God  calls  not  to  mourning  or  troubUng  of  ourselves  ; 
grief  of  compassion  is  as  well  required  as  grief  of  contrition. 

It  is  a  dead  member  that  is  not  sensible  of  the  state  of  the  body.  Jeremiah, 
for  fear  he  should  not  weep  enough  for  the  distressed  state  of  the  church, 
desired  of  God,  '  that  his  eyes  might  be  made  a  fountain  of  tears,'  Jer.  ix.  1. 
A  Christian,  as  he  must  not  be  proud  flesh,  so  neither  must  he  be  dead 
flesh  ;  none  more  truly  sensible  either  of  sin  or  of  misery,  so  far  as  misery 
carries  with  it  any  sign  of  God's  displeasure,  than  a  true  Christian ;  which 
issues  from  the  life  of  grace,  which,  where  it  is  in  any  measure,  is  Uvely. 
and  therefore  sensible  ;  for  God  gives  motion  and  senses  for  the  preserva- 
tion of  Hfe.  As  God's  bowels  are  tender  towards  us,  so  God's  people  have 
tender  bowels  towards  him,  his  cause,  his  people,  and  his  church.  The 
fruit  of  this  sensibleness,  is  earnest  prayer  to  God.  As  Melancthon  said 
well,  If  I  cared  for  nothing,  I  would  pray  for  nothing.  Si  nil  curarem  nil 
nrarem.-^ 

Grief  being  thus  raised,  must,  as  we  said  before,  be  hounded  and  guided. 

(1.)  God  hath  framed  the  soul,  and  planted  such  afiections  in  it,  as  may 
answer  all  his  dealing  towards  his  children  ;  that  when  he  enlargeth  himself 
towards  them,  then  the  soul  should  enlarge  itself  to  him  again ;  when  he 
opens  his  hand,  we  ought  to  open  our  hearts  ;  when  he  shews  any  token  of 
displeasm-e,  we  should  grieve  ;  when  he  troubles  us,  we  should  trouble  and 
grieve  ourselves.  As  God  any  way  discovereth  himself,  so  the  soul  should 
be  in  a  suitable  pliableness.  Then  the  soul  is  as  it  should  be,  when  it  is 
ready  to  meet  God  at  every  turn,  to  joy  when  he  calls  for  it,  to  mourn  when 
he  calls  for  that,  to  labour  to  know  God's  meaning  in  every  thing. 

*  Melancthon.  .  .  The  following  is  the  exact  saying  : — '  Ad  alium,  qui  a  curia 
eum  dehortabatur :  Si  nihil,  inquit,  curarem,  nihil  orarem.'' — Dicta  Melancthonis,  in 
his  Life  in  Melchior  Adam's  \'itse  Germ.  Theolog.  ed.  Frankfort,  1653,  p.  368. — G. 


THE  soul's  conflict.  159 

(2.)  Again,  God  hatli  made  the  soul  for  a  communion  with  himself,  which 
communion  is  especially  placed  in  the  affections,  which  are  the  springs  of  all 
Bpiritual  worship.  Then  the  affections  are  weU  ordered,  when  we  are  fit  to 
have  communion  with  God,  to  love,  joy,  trust,  to  delight  in  him  ahove  all 
things.  The  affections  are  the  inward  movings  of  the  soul,  which  then  move 
best  when  they  move  us  to  God,  not  from  him.  They  are  the  feet  of  the 
soul,  whereby  we  walk  with,  and  before  God.  "When  we  have  our  affections 
at  such  command,  that  we  can  take  them  off  from  any  thing  in  the  world, 
at  such  times  as  we  are  to  have  more  near  communion  with  God  in  hearing 
or  prayer,  &c.,  as  Abraham  when  he  was  to  sacrifice  left  whatsoever  might 
hinder  him  at  the  '  bottom  of  the  mount,'  Gen.  xxii.  5.  When  we  let  our 
afiections  so  far  into  the  things  of  the  world,  as  we  cannot  taken  them  off 
when  we  are  to  deal  with  God,  it  is  a  sign  of  spiritual  intemperancy.  It  is 
said  of  the  Israelites  that  they  brought  Egypt  with  them  into  the  wilder- 
ness ;  so  many  bring  the  world  into  their  hearts  with  them  when  they  come 
before  God. 

(3.)  But  because  oui'  affections  are  never  well-ordered  without  judgment, 
as  being  to  follow,  not  to  lead,  it  is  an  evidence  that  the  soul  is  in  a  fit 
temper,  when  there  is  such  a  harmony  in  it,  as  that  we  judge  of  things  as 
they  are,  and  affect  as  we  judge,  and  execute  as  we  affect.  This  harmony 
within  breeds  uniformity  and  constancy  in  our  resolutions,  so  that  there  is, 
as  it  were,  an  even  thread  drawn  through  the  whole  course  and  tenor  of  our 
Mves,  when  we  are  not  off  and  on,  up  and  down.  It  argues  an  ill  state  of 
body  when  it  is  very  hot,  or  very  cold,  or  hot  in  one  part,  and  cold  in  an- 
other ;  so  unevenness  of  spirit  argues  a  distemper.  A  wise  man's  life  is  of 
one  colour,  like  itself.  The  soul  bred  from  heaven,  so  far  as  it  is  heavenly- 
minded,  desires  to  be,  like  heaven,  above  all  storms,  uniform,  constant ; 
not  as  things  under  the  sun,  which  are  always  in  changes,  constant  only  in 
inconstancy.  Affections  are  as  it  were  the  wind  of  the  soul,  and  then  the 
soul  is  carried  as  it  should  be,  when  it  is  neither  so  becalmed  that  it  moves 
not  when  it  should,  nor  yet  tossed  with  tempests  to  move  disorderly ;  when 
it  is  so  weU  balanced  that  it  is  neither  lift  up  nor  cast  down  too  much,  but 
keepeth  a  steady  course.  Our  affections  must  not  rise  to  become  unruly 
passions,  for  then  as  a  river  that  overfloweth  the  banks,  they  carry  much 
slime  and  soU  with  them.  Though  affections  be  the  wind  of  the  soul,  yet 
unruly  passions  are  the  storms  of  the  soul,  and  will  overturn  all,  if  they  be 
not  suppressed.  The  best,  as  we  see  in  David  here,  if  they  do  not  steer 
their  hearts  aright,  are  in  danger  of  sudden  gusts.  A  Christian  must  neither 
be  a  dead  sea,  nor  a  raging  sea. 

(4.)  Our  affections  are  then  in  best  temper,  when  they  become  so  many 
graces  of  the  Spirit,  as  when  love  is  turned  to  a  love  of  God,  joy,  to  a  de- 
light in  the  best  things,  fear,  to  a  fear  of  offending  him  more  than  any 
creature,  sorrow,  to  a  sorrow  for  sin,  &c. 

(5.)  They  are  likewise  in  good  temper,  when  they  move  us  to  all  duties 
of  love  and  mercy  towards  others ;  when  they  are  not  shut  where  they 
should  be  open,  nor  open  where  they  should  be  shut. 

Yet  there  is  one  case  where  exceeding  affection  is  not  over-exceeding,  as 
in  an  ecstasy  of  zeal  upon  a  sudden  apprehension  of  God's  dishonour,  and 
his  cause  trodden  under  foot.  It  is  better  in  this  case,  rather  scarce  to  be 
our  own  men,  than  to  be  calm  or  quiet.  It  is  said  of  Christ  and  David,  that 
their  hearts  were  eaten  up  with  aholy  zeal  for  God's  house,  Ps.  kix.  9,  cxix.  139, 
Isa.  Ux.  19.  In  such  a  case,  Moses,  unparalleled  for  meekness,  was  turned 
iato  a  holy  rage,  Exod.  xxxii.  19.     The  greatness  of  tlie  provocation,  the 


160  THE  soul's  conflict. 

excellency  of  the  object,  and  the  weight  of  the  occasion,  bears  out  the  soul, 
not  only  without  blame,  but  with  great  praise,  in  such  seeming  distempers. 
It  is  the  glory  of  a  Christian  to  be  carried  with  full  sail,  and  as  it  were  with 
a  spring-tide  of  affection.  So  long  as  the  stream  of  affection  runneth  in  the 
due  channel,  and  if  there  be  great  occasions  for  great  motions,  then  it  is  fit 
the  affections  should  rise  higher,  as  to  burn  with  zeal,  to  be  '  sick  of  love,' 
Cant.  ii.  5.,  to  be  more  vile  for  the  Lord,  as  David,  2  Sam.  vi.  22,  to  be 
counted  out  of  our  wits,  2  Car.  v.  13,  with  St  Paul,  to  further  the  cause  of 
Christ  and  the  good  of  souls. 

Thus  we  may  see  the  life  of  a  poor  Christian  in  this  world,  1.  He  is  in 
great  danger,  if  he  be  not  troubled  at  all.  2.  When  he  is  troubled,  he  is 
in  danger  to  be  over-troubled.  3.  When  he  hath  brought  his  soul  in  tune 
again,  he  is  subject  to  new  troubles.  Betwixt  this  ebbing  and  flowing  there 
is  very  little  quiet.  Now  because  this  cannot  be  done  without  a  great 
measure  of  God's  Spirit,  our  help  is  to  make  use  of  that  promise  of  giving 
'  the  Holy  Ghost  to  them  that  ask  it,'  John.  xi.  13.  To  teach  us  when, 
how  long,  and  how  much  to  grieve  ;  and  when,  and  how  long,  and  how 
much  to  rejoice,  the  Spirit  must  teach  the  heart  this,  who  as  he  moved 
upon  the  waters  before  the  creation,  so  he  must  move  upon  the  waters  of 
our  souls,  for  we  have  not  the  command  of  our  own  hearts.  Every  natural 
man  is  carried  away  with  his  flesh  and  humours,  upon  which  the  devil 
rides,  and  carries  him  whither  he  list ;  he  hath  no  better  counsellors  than 
flesh  and  blood,  and  Satan  counselling  with  them.  But  a  godly  man  is  not 
a  slave  to  his  carnal  affections,  but  as  David  here,  labours  to  bring  into 
captivity  the  first  motions  of  sin  in  his  heart. 

Chapter  IX. — Of  the  souVs  disquiets,  God's  dealings,  and  power  to 
contain  ourselves  in  order. 

Obs.  1.  Moreover  we  see,  that  the  soul  hath  disquiets  proper'  to  itself,  be- 
sides those  griefs  of  sympathy  that  arise  from  the  body ;  for  here  the  soul 
complains  of  the  soul  itself,  as  when  it  is  out  of  the  body  it  hath  torments 
and  joys  of  its  own.  And  if  those  troubles  of  the  soul  be  not  well  cured, 
then  by  way  of  fellowship  and  redundance  they  wiU  affect  the  outward  man, 
and  so  the  whole  man  shall  be  enwrapt  in  misery. 

Obs.  2.  From  whence  we  further  see,  that  God,  when  he  will  humble  a 
man,  need  not  fetch  forces  from  without.  If  he  let  but  our  own  hearts  loose, 
we  shall  have  trouble  and  work  enough,  though  we  were  as  holy  as  David ; 
God  did  not  only  exercise  him  with  a  rebellious  son  out  of  his  own  loins, 
but  with  rebellious  risings  out  of  his  own  heart.  If  there  were  no  enemy 
in  the  world,  nor  devil  in  hell,  we  carry  that  within  us,  that,  if  it  be  let 
loose,  will  trouble  us  more  than  all  the  world  besides.  Oh  that  the  proud 
creature  should  exalt  himself  against  God,  and  run  into  a  voluntary  course 
of  provoking  him,  who  can  not  only  raise  the  humours  of  our  bodies  against 
us,  but  the  passions  of  our  minds  also  to  torment  us  !  Therefore  it  is  the 
best  wisdom  not  to  provoke  the  great  God,  for  *  are  we  stronger  than  he,' 
1  Cor.  X.  22,  that  can  raise  ourselves  against  ourselves  ?  and  work  wonders 
not  only  in  the  great  world,  but  also  in  the  little  world,  our  souls  and  bodies, 
when  he  pleases  ? 

Obs.  3.  We  see  likewise  hence  a  necessity  of  having  something  in  the  soul  above 
itself.  It  must  be  partaker  of  a  diviner  nature  than  itself;  otherwise,  when 
the  most  refined  part  of  our  souls,  the  very  spirit  of  our  minds,  is  out  of 


THE  soul's  conflict.  161 

frame,  what  shall  bring  it  in  again  ?  Therefore  we  must  conceive  in  a 
godly  man,  a  double  self,  one  which  must  be  denied,  the  other  which  must 
deny ;  one  that  breeds  all  the  disquiet,  and  another  that  stilleth  what  the 
other  hath  raised.  The  way  to  still  the  soul,  as  it  is  under  our  corrupt 
self,  is  not  to  parley  with  it,  and  divide  government  for  peace  sake,  as  if 
we  should  gratify  the  flesh  in  something,  to  redeem  liberty  to  the  spirit  in 
other  things  ;  for  we  shall  find  the  flesh  will  be  too  enci'oaching.  We  must 
strive  against  it,  not  with  subtlety  and  discourse,  so  much  as  with  peremp- 
tory violence  silenge  it  and  vex  it.  An  enemy  that  parleys  will  yield  at 
length.  Grace  is  nothing  else  but  that  blessed  power,  whereby  as  spiritual 
we  gain  upon  ourselves  as  carnal.  Holy  love  is  that  which  we  gain  of  self- 
love;  and  so  joy,  and  delight,  &c.  Grace  labours  to  win  ground  of  the  old 
man,  until  at  length  it  be  all  in  all ;  indeed  we  are  never  ourselves  perfectly, 
till  we  have  wholly  put  off  ourselves  ;  nothing  should  be  at  a  greater  dis- 
tance to  us  than  ourselves.  This  is  the  reason  why  carnal  men,  that  have  no- 
thing above  themselves  but  their  corrupt  self,  sink  in  great  troubles,  having 
nothing  within  to  uphold  them,  whereas  a  good  man  is  wiser  than  himself, 
holier  than  himself,  stronger  than  himself ;  there  is  something  in  him  more 
than  a  man.  There  be  evils  that  the  spirit  of  man  alone,  out  of  the  good- 
ness of  nature,  cannot  bear ;  but  the  spirit  of  man,  assisted  with  an  higher 
Spirit,  wUl  support  and  carry  him  through.  It  is  a  good  trial  of  a  man's 
condition  to  know  what  he  esteems  to  be  himself.  A  godly  man  counts 
the  inner  man,  the  sanctified  part,  to  be  himself,  whereby  he  stands  in  re- 
lation to  Christ  and  a  better  life.  Another  man  esteems  his  contentment 
in  the  world,  the  satisfaction  of  his  carnal  desires,  the  respect  he  finds  from 
men  by  reason  of  his  parts,  or  something  without  him,  that  he  is  master  of; 
this  he  counts  himself,  and  by  this  he  values  himself,  and  to  this  he  makes 
his  best  thoughts  and  endeavours  serviceable  :  and  of  crosses  in  these  things 
he  is  most  sensible,  and  so  sensible,  that  he  thinks  himself  undone  if  he 
seeth  not  a  present  issue  out  of  them. 

That  which  most  troubles  a  good  man  in  all  troubles  is  himself,  so  far  as 
he  is  unsubdued  ;  he  is  more  disquieted  with  himself  than  with  all  troubles 
out  of  himself ;  when  he  hath  gotten  the  better  once  of  himself,  whatsoever 
falls  from  without  is  light.  Where  the  spirit  is  enlarged,  it  cares  not  much 
for  outward  bondage  ;  where  the  spirit  is  hghtsome,  it  cares  not  much  for 
outward  darkness ;  where  the  spirit  is  settled,  it  cares  not  much  for  out- 
ward changes  ;  where  the  spirit  is  one  with  itself,  it  cannot*  bear  outward 
breaches  ;  where  the  spirit  is  sound,  it  can  bear  outward  sickness.  Nothing 
can  be  very  ill  with  us,  when  all  is  well  within.  This  is  the  comfort  of  a 
holy  man,  that  though  he  be  troubled  with  himself,  yet  by  reason  of  the 
spirit  in  him,  which  is  his  better  self,  he  works  out  by  degrees  whatever  is 
contrary,  as  spring- water,  being  clear  of  itself,  works  itself  clean,  though  it 
be  troubled  by  something  cast  in,  as  the  sea  will  endure  no  poisonful  thing, 
but  casts  it  upon  the  shore.  But  a  carnal  man  is  like  a  spring  corrupted, 
that  cannot  work  itself  clear,  because  it  is  wholly  tainted  ;  his  eye  and  light 
is  darkness,  and  therefore  no  wonder  if  he  seeth  nothing.  Sin  lieth  upon 
his  understanding,  and  hinders  the  knowledge  of  itself;  it  lies  close  upon 
the  will,  and  hinders  the  stri\dng  against  itself. 

True  self  that  is  worth  the  owning,  is  when  a  man  is  taken  into  a  higher 
condition,  and  made  one  with  Christ,  and  esteems  neither  of  himself  nor 
others,  as  happy  for  anything  according  to  the  flesh.  1.  He  is  under  the 
law  and  government  of  the  Spirit,  and  so  far  as  he  is  himself,  works  accord- 

*  Qu.  '  can  ?  '—Ed. 

VOL.  I.  I, 


162  THE  SODli's  CONFLICT. 

ing  to  that  principle.  2.  He  labours  more  and  more  to  be  transformed  into 
the  likeness  of  Christ,  in  whom  he  esteemeth  that  he  hath  his  best  being. 
8.  He  esteems  of  all  things  that  befall  him,  to  be  good  or  ill,  as  they  fur- 
ther or  hinder  his  best  condition.  If  all  be  weU  for  that,  he  counts  himself 
well,  whatsoever  else  befalls  him. 

Another  man,  when  he  doth  anything  that  is  good,  acts  not  his  own  part ; 
but  a  godly  man,  when  he  doth  good,  is  in  his  proper  element;  what 
another  man  doth  for  by-ends  and  reasons,  that  he  doth  from  a  new  nature, 
which,  if  there  were  no  law  to  compel,  yet  would  move  him  to  that  which 
is  pleasing  to  Christ.  If  he  be  drawn  aside  by  passion  or  temptation,  that 
he  judgeth  not  to  be  himself,  but  taketh  a  holy  revenge  on  himself  for  it, 
as  being  redeemed  and  taken  out  from  himself;  he  thinks  himself  no 
debtor,  nor  to  owe  any  service  to  his  corrupt  self.  That  which  he  plots  and 
projects  and  works  for  is,  that  Christ  may  rule  everywhere,  and  especially 
in  himself,  for  he  is  not  his  own  but  Christ's,  and  therefore  desires  to  be 
more  and  more  emptied  of  himself,  that  Christ  might  be  aU  in  all  in  him. 

Thus  we  see  what  great  use  there  is  of  dealing  with  ourselves,  for  the 
better  composing  and  settling  of  our  souls.  Which,  though  it  be  a  course 
without  glory  and  ostentation  in  the  world,  as  causing  a  man  to  retire  in- 
wardly into  his  own  breast,  having  no  other  witness  but  God  and  himself; 
and  though  it  be  likewise  irksome  to  the  flesh,  as  calling  the  soul  home  to 
itself,  being  desirous  naturally  to  wander  abroad  and  be  a  stranger  at  home  ; 
yet  it  is  a  course  both  good  in  itself,  and  makes  the  soul  good. 

For  by  this  means  the  judgment  is  exercised  and  rectified,  the  will  and 
affections  ordered,  the  whole  man  put  into  an  holy  frame  fit  for  every  good 
action.  By  this  the  tree  is  made  good,  and  the  fruit  cannot  but  be  answer- 
able ;  by  this  the  soul  itself  is  set  in  tune,  whence  there  is  a  pleasant 
harmony  in  our  whole  conversation.  Without  this,  we  may  do  that  which 
is  outwardly  good  to  others,  but  we  can  never  be  good  ourselves.  The 
first  justice  begins  within,  when  there  is  a  due  subjection  of  all  the  powers 
of  the  soul  to  the  spirit,  as  sanctified  and  guided  by  God's  Spirit ;  when 
justice  and  order  is  first  established  in  the  soul,  it  will  appear  from  thence 
in  all  our  dealings.  He  that  is  at  peace  in  himself,  will  be  peaceable  to 
others,  peaceable  in  his  family,  peaceable  in  the  church,  peaceable  in  the 
state.  The  soul  of  a  wicked  man  is  in  perpetual  sedition ;  being  always 
troubled  in  itself,  it  is  no  wonder  if.  it  be  troublesome  to  others.  Unity  in 
ourselves  is  before  union  with  others. 

To  conclude  this  first  part,  concerning  intercourse  with  ourselves.  As 
we  desire  to  enjoy  om'selves,  and  to  live  the  life  of  men  and  of  Christians, 
which  is,  to  understand  our  ways  ;  as  we  desu-e  to  live  comfortably,  and 
not  to  be  accessory  of  yielding  to  that  sorrow  which  causeth  death  ;  as  we 
desire  to  answer  God  and  ourselves,  when  we  are  to  give  an  account  of  the 
inward  tumults  of  our  souls  ;  as  we  desire  to  be  vessels  prepared  for  every 
good  work,  and  to  have  strength  to  undergo  any  cross ;  as  we  desire  to 
have  healthy  souls,  and  to  keep  a  sabbath  within  ourselves ;  as  we  desire 
not  only  to  do  good,  but  to  be  good  in  ourselves  :  so  let  us  labour  to  quiet 
our  souls,  and  often  ask  a  reason  of  ourselves,  why  we  should  not  be  quiet  ? 


Chapteb  X. — Means  not  to  be  overcharged  with  sorrow. 

To  help  us  further  herein,  besides  that  which  hath  been  formerly  spoken, 
1.   We  must  take  heed  of  building  an  ungrounded  confidence  of  happinesi 


THE  soul's  conflict.  163 

for  time  to  come,  which  makes  us  when  changes  come,  1,  Unacquainted  with 
them ;  2,  Takes  away  expectation  of  them ;  3,  And  preparation  for  them. 
When  any  thing  is  strange  and  sudden,  and  hghts  upon  us  unfurnished  and 
unfenced,  it  must  needs  put  our  spirits  out  of  frame.  It  is  good  therefore 
to  make  all  kind  of  troubles  famihar  to  us,  in  our  thoughts  at  least,  and 
this  wiU  break  the  force  of  them.  It  is  good  to  fence  our  souls  beforehand 
against  all  assaults,  as  men  use  to  keep  out  the  sea,  by  raising  banks ; 
and  if  a  breach  be  made,  to  repair  it  presently. 

We  had  need  to  maintain  a  strong  garrison  of  holy  reasons  against  the 
assaults  of  strong  passions  ;  we  may  hope  for  the  best,  but  fear  the  worst, 
and  prepare  to  bear  whatsoever.  We  say  that  a  set  diet  is  dangerous, 
because  variety  of  occasions  will  force  us  upon  breaking  of  it ;  so  in  this 
world  of  changes  we  cannot  resolve  upon  any  certain  condition  of  life,  for 
upon  alteration  the  mind  is  out  of  frame.  We  cannot  say  this  or  that 
trouble  shall  not  befall ;  yet  we  may,  by  help  of  the  Spirit,  say,  nothing  that 
doth  befall  shall  make  me  do  that  which  is  unworthy  of  a  Christian. 

That  which  others  make  easy  by  suffering,  that  a  wise  man  maketh  easy 
by  thinking  of  beforehand.  Quce  alii  diu patiendo  levia  faciunt,  sapiens  levia 
facit  diu  cogitando.  If  we  expect  the  worst,  when  it  comes,  it  is  no  more 
than  we  thought  of;  if  better  befalls  us,  then  it  is  the  sweeter  to  us,  the 
less  we  expected  it.  Our  Saviour  foretells  the  worst,  '  In  the  world  you 
shall  have  tribulation,'  John  xvi.  33  ;  therefore  look  for  it ;  but  then  He  will 
not  leave  us.  Satan  deludes  with  fair  promises ;  but  when  the  contrary 
faUs  out,  he  leaves  his  followers  in  their  distresses.  We  desire  peace  and 
rest,  but  we  seek  it  not  in  its  own  place  ;  '  there  is  a  rest  for  God's  people,' 
Heb.  iv.  9,  but  that  is  not  here,  nor  yet ;  but  it  remains  for  them  ;  '  they 
rest  from  their  labours,'  Kev.  xiv.  13,  but  that  is  after  they  '  are  dead  in 
the  Lord.'  There  is  no  sound  rest  till  then.  Yet  this  caution  must 
be  remembered,  that  we  shape  not  in  our  fancies  such  troubles  as  are  never 
likely  to  fall  out.  It  comes  either  from  weakness  or  guiltiness,  to  fear 
shadows.  We  shall  not  need  to  make  crosses  ;  they  will,  as  we  say  of  foul 
weather,  come  before  they  be  sent  for.  How  many  evils  do  people  fear, 
from  which  they  have  no  farther  hurt  than  what  is  bred  only  by  their  cause- 
less fears  !  Nor  yet,  if  they  be  probable,  must  we  think  of  them  so  as  to 
be  altogether  so  affected,  as  if  undoubtedly  they  would  come,  for  so  we  give 
certain  strength  to  an  uncertain  cross,  and  usurp  upon  God,  by  anticipat- 
ing that  which  may  never  come  to  pass.  It  was  rashness  in  David  to  say, 
'  I  shall  one  day  perish  by  the  hand  of  Saul,'  1  Sam.  xxvii.  1. 

If  they  be  such  troubles  as  will  certainly  come  to  pass,  as  parting  with 
friends  and  contentments,  at  least,  by  death ;  then,  1.  Think  of  them  so  as 
not  to  be  much  dismayed,  but  furnish  thy  heart  with  strength  beforehand, 
that  they  may  fall  the  hghter.  2.  Think  of  them  so  as  not  to  give  up  the 
bucklers  to  passion,  and  lie  open  as  a  fair  mark  for  any  uncomfortable  acci- 
dent to  strike  to  the  heart ;  nor  yet  so  think  of  them  as  to  despise  them, 
but  to  consider  of  God's  meaning  in  them,  and  how  to  take  good  by  them. 
3.  Think  of  the  things  we  enjoy,  so  as  to  moderate  our  enjoying  of  them, 
by  considering  there  must  be  a  parting,  and  therefore  how  we  shall  be  able 
to  bear  it  when  it  comes. 

2.  If  we  desire  not  to  be  overcharged  with  sorrow  when  that  which  we 
fear  is  fallen  upon  us,  we  must  then  beforehand  look  that  our  love  to  any 
thing  in  this  ivorld  shoot  not  so  far  as  that,  when  the  time  of  severing  cometh, 
we  part  with  so  much  of  our  hearts  by  that  rent.  Those  that  love  too  much  will 
always  grieve  too  much.     It  is  the  greatness  of  our  affections  which  causeth 


164  THE  soul's  conflict. 

the  sharpness  of  our  afflictions.  He  that  cannot  abound  without  pride  and 
high-mindedness,  will  not  want  without  too  much  dejectedness.  Love  is 
planted  for  such  things  as  can  return  love,  and  make  us  better  by  loving 
them  ;  wherein  we  shall  satisfy  our  love  to  the  fall.  It  is  pity  so  sweet  an 
affection  should  be  lost.  So  sorrow  is  for  sin,  and  for  other  things,  as  they 
make  sin  the  more  bitter  to  us.  The  life  of  a  Christian  should  be  a  medi- 
tation how  to  unloose  his  affections  from  inferior  things.  He  will  easily 
die  that  is  dead  before  in  affection.  But  this  will  never  be,  unless  the  soul 
seeth  something  better  than  aU  things  in  the  world,  upon  which  it  may 
bestow  itself.  In  that  measure  our  affections  die  in  their  excessive  motion 
to  things  below,  as  they  are  taken  up  with  the  love  and  admiration  of  the 
best  things.  He  that  is  much  in  heaven  in  his  thoughts  is  free  from  being 
tossed  with  tempests  here  below.  The  top  of  those  mountains  that  are 
above  the  middle  region  are  so  quiet  as  that  the  lightest  things,  as  ashes, 
lie  still,  and  are  not  moved.  The  way  to  mortify  earthly  members,  that 
bestir  themselves  in  us,  is  to  mind  things  above,  Col.  iii.  1,  5.  The  more 
the  ways  of  wisdom  lead  us  on  high,  the  more  we  avoid  the  snares  below. 

In  the  uncertainty  of  all  events  here,  labour  to  frame  that  contentment 
in  and  fi-om  our  ovm  selves  which  the  things  themselves  wUl  not  yield ; 
frame  peace  by  freeing  our  hearts  from  too  much  fear,  and  riches  by  free- 
ing our  hearts  from  covetous  desires.  Frame  a  sufficiency  out  of  content- 
edness.  If  the  soul  itself  be  out  of  tune,  outward  things  will  do  no  more 
good  than  a  fair  shoe  to  a  gouty  foot. 

And  seek  not  ourselves  abroad  out  of  ourselves  in  the  conceits  of  other 
men.  A  man  shall  never  live  quietly  that  hath  not  learned  to  be  set  light- 
by  of  others.  He  that  is  little  in  his  own  eyes  will  not  be  troubled  to  be 
little  in  the  eyes  of  others.  Men  that  set  too  high  a  price  upon  themselves, 
when  others  will  not  come  to  their  price,  are  discontent.  Those  whose 
condition  is  above  their  worth,  and  their  pride  above  their  condition,  shall 
never  want  sorrow ;  yet  we  must  maintain  our  a-uthority,  and  the  image  of 
God  in  our  places,  for  that  is  God's  and  not  ours ;  and  we  ought  so  to 
carry  ourselves  as  we  approve  ourselves  to  their  consciences,  though  we 
have  not  their  good  words.  '  Let  none  despise  thy  youth,'  saith  St  Paul 
to  Timothy,  1  Tim.  iv.  12 — that  is,  walk  so  before  them  as  they  shall  have 
no  cause.  It  is  not  in  our  own  power  what  other  men  think  or  speak,  but 
it  is  in  our  power,  by  God's  grace,  -to  hve  so  that  none  can  think  ill  of  us, 
but  by  slandering,  and  none  beheve  ill  but  by  too  much  credulity. 

3.  When  anything  seizeth  upon  us,  we  must  take  heed  we  mingle  not 
our  oivn  passions  with  it ;  we  must  neither  bring  sin  to,  nor  mingle  sm  with, 
the  suffering ;  for  that  will  trouble  the  spirit  more  than  the  trouble  itself. 
We  are  more  to  deal  with  our  own  hearts  than  with  the  trouble  itself.  We 
are  not  hurt  tiU  our  souls  be  hurt.  God  will  not  have  it  in  the  power  of 
any  creature  to  hurt  our  souls,  but  by  our  own  treason  against  ourselves. 

Therefore  we  should  have  our  hearts  in  continual  jealousy,  for  they  are 
ready  to  deceive  the  best.  In  sudden  encounters  some  sin  doth  many 
times  discover  itself,  the  seed  whereof  lieth  hid  in  our  natures,  which  we 
think  ourselves  very  free  from.  Who  would  have  thought  the  seeds  of 
murmuring  had  lurked  in  the  meek  natm-e  of  Moses  ?  that  the  seeds  of 
murder  had  lurked  in  the  pitiful  heart  of  David  ?  2  Sam.  xii.  9,  that  the 
seeds  of  denial  of  Christ,  Matt.  xxvi.  72,  had  lien  hid  in  the  zealous  affec- 
tion of  Peter  towards  Christ  ?  If  passions  break  out  from  us,  which  we 
are  not  naturally  inclined  unto,  and  over  which  by  grace  we  have  got  a 
great  conquest,  bow  watchful  need  we  be  over  ourselves  in  those  thmgs, 


THE  soul's  conflict.  165 

which,  by  temper,  custom,  and  company  we  are  carried  unto !  and  what  cause 
have  we  to  fear  continually  that  we  are  worse  than  we  take  ourselves  to  be  ! 

There  are  many  unruly  passions  lie  hid  in  us,  until  they  be  drawn  out  by 
something  that  meeteth  with  them  ;  either — 

(1.)  By  icay  of  opposition,  as  when  the  truth  of  God  spiritually  un- 
folded meets  with  some  beloved  corruption,  it  swelleth  bigger.  The  force 
of  gunpowder  is  not  known  until  some  spark  light  on  it ;  and  oftentimes 
the  stillest  natures,  if  crossed,  discover  th-e  deepest  corruptions.  Some- 
times it  is  drawn  out  by  dealing  with  the  opposite  spirits  of  other  men. 
Oftentimes  retired  men  Imow  not  what  lies  hid  in  themselves. 

(2.)  Sometimes  by  crosses,  as  many  people,  whilst  the  freshness  and 
vigour  of  their  spirits  lasteth,  and  while  the  flower  of  age,  and  a  full  supply 
of  all  things  continueth,  seem  to  be  of  a  pleasing  and  calm  disposition ;  but 
afterwards,  when  changes  come,  like  Job's  wife,  they  are  discovered.  Job 
ii.  9.  Then  that  which  in  nature  is  unsubdued,  openly  appears. 
'  •  (3.)  Temptations  likewise  have  a  searching  power  to  bring  that  to  light  in  us 
which  was  hidden  before.  Satan  hath  been  a  winnower  and  a  sifter  of  old, 
Luke  xxii.  3.  He  thought  if  Job  had  been  but  touched  in  his  body,  he 
would  have  cursed  Grod  to  his  face.  Job  i. 

Some  men,  out  of  policy,  conceal  their  passion  until  they  see  some  ad- 
vantage to  let  it  out,  as  Esau  smothered  his  hatred  until  his  father's  death. 
Apierta  perdimt  odia  vindictcs  locum.  When  the  restraint  is  taken  away, 
men,  as  we  say,  shew  themselves  in  their  pure  naturals.  Unloose  a  tiger 
or  a  lion,  and  you  know  what  he  is.     Solve  leonetn  et  senties. 

(4.)  Further,  let  vs  see  more  every  day  into  the  state  of  our  own  souls. 
What  a  shame  is  it  that  so  nimble  and  swift  a  spirit  as  the  soul  is,  that 
can  mount  up  to  heaven,  and  from  thence  come  down  into  the  earth  in  an 
instant,  should,  whilst  it  looks  over  all  other  things,  overlook  itself!  that  it 
should  be  skilful  in  the  story  almost  of  all  times  and  places,  and  yet  igno- 
rant of  the  story  of  itself !  that  we  should  know  what  is  done  in  the  court 
and  country,  and  beyond  the  seas,  and  be  ignorant  of  what  is  done  at  home 
in  our  own  hearts !  that  we  should  live  known  to  others,  and  yet  die  un- 
known to  ourselves !  that  we  should  be  able  to  give  account  of  anything 
better  than  of  ourselves  to  ourselves  !  This  is  the  cause  why  we  stand  in 
our  own  light,  why  we  think  better  of  ourselves  than  others,  and  better 
than  is  cause  ;  this  is  that  which  hindereth  all  reformation,  for  how  can  we 
reform  that  which  we  are  not  willing  to  see,  and  so  we  lose  one  of  the  surest 
evidences  of  our  sincerity,  which  is,  a  willingness  to  search  into  om-  hearts, 
and  to  be  searched  by  others.     A  sincere  heart  will  offer  itself  to  trial. 

And  therefore  let  us  sift  our  actions,  and  our  passions,  and  see  what  is 
flesh  in  them,  and  what  is  spirit,  and  so  separate  the  precious  fr'om  the 
vile.  It  is  good  likewise  to  consider  what  sin  we  were  guilty  of  before, 
which  moved  God  to  give  us  up  to  excess  in  any  passion,  and  wherein  we 
have  grieved  his  Spirit.  Passion  will  be  more  moderate  when  thus  it  knows 
it  must  come  to  the  trial  and  censure.  This  course  will  either  make  us 
weary  of  passion,  or  else  passion  will  make  us  weary  of  this  strict  com'se. 
We  shall  find  it  the  safest  way  to  give  our  hearts  no  rest  tiU  we  have 
wrought  on  them  to  purpose,  and  gotten  the  mastery  over  them. 

When  the  soul  is  inured  to  this  dealing  with  itself,  it  will  learn  the  skill 
to  command,  and  passions  will  be  soon  commanded,  as  being  inm'ed  to  be 
examined  and  checked  ;  as  we  see  dogs,  and  such  like  domestical  creatures, 
that  will  not  regard  a  stranger,  yet  will  be  quieted  in  brawls  presently  by 
the  voice  of  their  master,  to  which  they  are  accustomed.     This  fits  us  foi 


K 


166  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

service.  Unbroken  spirits  are  like  unbroken  horses,  unfit  for  any  use  until 
they  be  thoroughly  subdued. 

(5.)  And  it  were  best  to  prevent,  as  much  as  in  us  lieth,  the  ve7-y  first 
risings,  before  the  soul  be  overcast.  Passions  are  but  little  motions  at  the 
first,'  but  grow  as  rivers  do,  greater  and  greater,  the  farther  they  are  carried 
from  their  spring.  The  fii-st  risings  are  the  more  to  be  looked  unto,  be- 
cause there  is  most  danger  in  them,  and  we  have  least  care  over  them. 
Sin,  like  rust,  or  a  canker,  will  by  little  and  little  eat  out  all  the  graces  of 
the  soul.  There  is  no  staying  when  we  are  once  down  the  hill,  till  we  come 
to  the  bottom.  No  sin  but  is  easier  kept  out  than  driven  out.  If  we  can- 
not prevent  wicked  thoughts,  yet  we  may  deny  them  lodging  in  our  hearts. 
It  is  our  giving  willing  entertainment  to  sinful  motions  that  increaseth  guilt, 
and  hindereth  our  peace.  It  is  that  which  moveth  God  to  give  us  up  to  a 
further  degree  of  evU  affections.  Therefore  what  we  are  afraid  to  do  before 
men,  we  should  be  afraid  to  think  before  God.  It  would  much  further  our 
peace  to  keep  our  judgments  clear,  as  being  the  eye  of  the  soul,  whereby 
we  may  discern  in  every  action  and  passion  what  is  good  and  what  is  evil ; 
as  likewise  to  preserve  tenderness  of  heart,  that  may  check  us  at  the  first,  and 
not  brook  the  least  evil  being  discovered.  When  the  heart  begins  once  tc 
be  kindled,  it  is  easy  to  smother  the  smoke  of  passion,  which  otherwise  will 
fiime  up  into  the  head,  and  gather  into  so  thick  a  cloud  as  we  shall  lose  the 
sight  of  ourselves,  and  what  is  best  to  be  done.  And  therefore  David  here 
labours  to  take  up  his  heart  at  the  first ;  his  care  was  to  crush  the  very  first 
insurrections  of  his  soul,  before  they  came  to  break  forth  into  open  rebel- 
lion. Storms  we  know  rise  out  of  little  gusts.  Little  risings  neglected 
cover  the  soul  before  we  are  aware.  If  we  would  check  these  risings,  and 
stifle  them  in  their  birth,  they  would  not  break  out  afterwards  to  the  re- 
proach of  religion,  to  the  scandal  of  the  weak,  to  the  offence  of  the  strong, 
to  the  grief  of  God's  Spirit  in  us,  to  the  distui'bance  of  our  own  spirits  in 
doing  good,  and  to  the  disheartening  of  us  in  troubling  of  our  inward  peace, 
and  thereby  weakening  our  assurance.  Therefore  let  us  stop  beginnings  aa 
much  as  may  be ;  and  so  soon  as  they  begin  to  rise,  let  us  begin  to  exa- 
mrae  what  raised  them,  and  whither  they  are  about  to  carry  us,  Ps.  iv.  4. 
The  way  to  be  still  is  to  examine  ourselves  first,  and  then  censure  what 
stands  not  with  reason.  As  David  doth,  when  he  had  given  way  to  unbe- 
fitting thoughts  of  God's  providence,  '  So  foohsh,'  saith  he,  '  was  I,  and  as 
a  beast  before  thee,'  Ps.  Ixxiii.  22. 

Especially  then,  look  to  these  sinful  stirrings  when  thou  art  to  deal  with 
God.  I  am  to  have  communion  with  a  God  of  peace,  what  then  do  turbulent 
thoughts  and  affections  in  my  heart  ?  I  am  to  deal  with  a  patient  God,  why 
should  I  cherish  revengeful  thoughts  ?  Abraham  di'ove  away  the  birds  fi"om 
the  sacrifice,  Gen.  xv.  11.  Troublesome  thoughts,  Hke  birds,  will  come 
before  they  be  sent  for,  but  they  should  find  entertainment  accordingly. 

(6.)  In  all  our  grievance  let  us  look  to  something  that  may  comfort  ks, 
as  well  as  discourage ;  look  to  that  we  enjoy,  as  well  as  that  we  want.  As 
in  prosperity  God  mingles  some  crosses  to  diet  us,  so  in  all  crosses  there 
is  something  to  comfort  us.  As  there  is  a  vanity  lies  hid  in  the  best 
worldly  good,  so  there  is  a  blessing  Hes  hid  in  the  worst  worldly  evil. 
God  usually  maketh  up  that  with  some  advantage  in  another  kind,  wherein 
we  are  inferior  to  others.  Others  are  in  greater  place,  so  they  are  in 
greater  danger.  Others  be  richer,  so  their  cares  and  snares  be  greater  : 
the  poor  m  the  world  may  be  richer  in  faith  than  they,  James  ii.  5.  The 
Boul  can  better  digest  and  master  a  low  estate  than  a  prosperous,  and 


THE  soul's  conflict.  167 

under  some  abasement,  it  is  in  a  less  distance  from  God.  Others  are  not 
so  afflicted  as  we,  then  they  have  less  experience  of  God's  gracious  power 
than  we.  Others  may  have  more  healthy  bodies,  but  souls  less  weaned 
from  the  world.  We  would  not  change  conditions  with  them,  so  as  to 
have  then-  spirits  with  their  condition.  For  one  half  of  our  lives,  the 
meanest  are  as  happy  and  free  from  cares,  as  the  greatest  monarch,  that 
is,  while  both  sleep  ;  and  usually  the  sleep  of  the  one  is  sweeter  than  the 
sleep  of  the  other.  What  is  all  that  the  earth  can  afford  us,  if  God  deny 
health  ?  and  this  a  man  in  the  meanest  condition  may  enjoy.  That  wherein 
one  man  differs  from  another,  is  but  title,  and  but  for  a  little  time  ;  death 
levelleth  all. 

There  is  scarce  any  man,  but  the  good  he  receives  from  God  is  more 
than  the  ill  he  feels,  if  our  unthankful  hearts  would  suffer  us  to  think  so. 
Is  not  our  health  more  than  our  sickness  ?  do  we  not  enjoy  more  than  we 
want,  I  mean,  of  the  things  that  are  necessary  ?  are  not  our  good  days  more 
than  our  evil  ?  but  we  would  go  to  heaven  upon  roses,  and  usually  one 
cross  is  more  taken  to  heart,  than  a  hundred  blessings.  So  unkindly  we 
deal  with  God.  Is  God  indebted  to  us  ?  doth  he  owe  us  any  thing  ?  those 
that  deserve  nothing,  should  be  content  with  any  thin^. 

We  should  look  to  others  as  good  as  ourselves,  as  well  as  to  ourselves,  and 
then  we  shall  see  it  is  not  our  own  case  only.  Who  are  we  that  we  should 
look  for  an  exempted  condition  from  those  troubles  which  God's  dearest 
children  are  addicted  unto  ? 

Thus  when  we  are  surprised  contrary  to  our  looking  for  and  liking,  we 
should  study  rather  how  to  exercise  some  grace,  than  give  way  to  any 
passion.  Think,  now  is  a  time  to  exercise  our  patience,  our  wisdom,  and 
other  graces.  By  this  means  we  shall  turn  that  to  our  greatest  advantage, 
which  Satan  intendeth  greatest  hurt  to  us  by.  Thus  we  shall  not  only 
master  every  condition,  but  make  it  serviceable  to  our  good.  If  nature 
teach  bees,  not  only  to  gather  honey  out  of  sweet  flowers,  but  out  of  bitter, 
shall  not  grace  teach  us  to  draw  even  out  of  the  bitterest  condition  some- 
thing to  better  our  souls  ?  we  learn  to  tame  all  creatures,  even  the  wildest, 
that  we  may  bring  them  to  our  use  :  and  why  should  we  give  way  to  our 
own  unruly  passions  ? 

(7.)  It  were  good  to  have  in  our  eye  the  beauty  of  a  well-ordered  soid,  and 
we  should  think  that  nothing  in  this  world  is  of  sufficient  worth  to  put  us 
out  of  frame.  The  sanctified  soul  should  be  like  the  sun  in  this,  which 
though  it  worketh  upon  all  these  inferior  bodies,  and  cherisheth  them  by  light 
and  mfluence,  yet  is  not  moved  nor  wrought  upon  by  them  again,  but 
keepeth  its  own  lustre  and  distance  ;  so  om-  spirits,  being  of  a  heavenly 
breed,  should  rule  other  things  beneath  them,  and  not  be  ruled  by  them. 
It  is  a  holy  state  of  soul  to  be  under  the  power  of  nothing  beneath  itself. 
Are  we  stirred  ?  then  consider,  is  this  matter  worth  the  loss  of  my  quiet  ? 
What  we  esteem,  that  we  love ;  what  we  love,  we  labour  for ;  and  there- 
fore let  us  esteem  highly  of  a  clear,  calm  temper,  whereby  we  both  enjoy 
our  God  and  ourselves,  and  know  how  to  rank  all  things  else.  It  is  against 
nature  for  inferior  things  to  rule  that  which  the  wise  Disposer  of  all  things 
hath  set  above  them.  We  owe  the  flesh  neither  suit  nor  service ;  we  are  no 
debtors  to  it. 

The  more  we  set  before  the  soul  that  quiet  estate  in  heaven  which  the 
souls  of  perfect  men  now  enjoy,  and  itself  ere  long  shall  enjoy  there,  the 
more  it  will  be  in  love  with  it,  and  endeavour  to  attain  unto  it.  And 
because  the  soul  never  worketh  better,  than  when  it  is  raised  up  by  some 


168  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

stron<T  and  sweet  affection — anima  nunquam  melius  agit,  quam  ex  imperlo 
alicujits  insignis  affectus — let  us  look  upon  our  nature,  as  it  is  in  Christ,  in 
whom  it  is  pure,  sweet,  calm,  meek,  every  way  lovely.  This  sight  is  a 
changing  sight ;  love  is  an  affection  of  imitation ;  we  affect  a  likeness  to  him 
we  love.  Let  us  '  learn  of  Christ  to  be  humble  and  meek,'  and  then  we 
<  shall  find  rest  to  our  souls,'  Mat.  xi.  29.  The  setting  of  an  excellent 
idea  and  platform  before  us,  will  raise  and  draw  up  our  souls  higher,  and 
make  us  sensible  of  the  least  moving  of  spirit,  that  shall  be  contrary  to  that, 
the  attainment  whereof  we  have  in  our  desires.  He  will  hardly  attain  to 
mean  things,  that  sets  not  before  him  higher  perfection.  Naturally  we 
love  to  see  symmetry  and  proportion,  even  in  a  dead  picture,  and  are  much 
taken  with  some  curious  piece.  But  why  should  we  not  rather  labom'  to 
keep  the  affections  of  the  soul  in  due  proportion  ?  seeing  a  meek  and  well 
ordered  soul  is  not  only  lovely  in  the  sight  of  men  and  angels,  but  is  much 
set  by,  by  the  great  God  himself.  But  now  the  greatest  care  of  those  that 
set  highest  price  upon  themselves  is,  how  to  compose  their  outward  carriage 
in  some  graceful  manner,  never  studying  how  to  compose  their  spirits  ;  and 
rather  how  to  cover  the  deformity  of  their  passions  than  to  cure  them. 
Whence  it  is  that  the  foulest  inward  vices  are  covered  with  the  fairest 
vizards,  and  to  make  this  the  worse,  all  this  is  counted  the  best  breeding. 

The  Hebrews  placed  all  their  happiness  in  peace,  and  when  they  would 
comprise  much  in  one  word,  they  would  wish  peace.  This  was  that  the 
angels  brought  news  of  fi'om  heaven,  at  the  birth  of  Christ,  Luke  ii.  14. 
Now  peace  riseth  out  of  quietness  and  order,  and  God  that  is  *  the  God  of 
peace,  is  the  God  of  order'  first,  1  Cor.  xiv.  33.  What  is  health,  but 
when  all  the  members  are  in  then*  due  positure,*  and  all  the  humom-s 
in  a  settled  quiet  ?  Whence  ariseth  the  beauty  of  the  world,  but  from  that 
comely  order  wherein  every  creatiu'e  is  placed  ;  the  more  glorious  and 
excellent  creatures  above,  and  the  less  below  ?  So  it  is  in  the  soul ;  th*^ 
best  constitution  of  it  is  when  by  the  Spmt  of  God  it  is  so  ordered,  as  that 
all  be  in  subjection  to  the  law  of  the  mind.  What  a  sight  were  it  for  the 
feet  to  be  where  the  head  is,  and  the  earth  to  be  where  the  heaven  is,  to 
see  all  turned  upside  do-rni  ?  And  to  a  spiritual  eye  it  seems  as  great  a 
deformity,  to  see  the  soul  to  be  under  the  rule  of  sinful  passions. 

Comeliness  riseth  out  of  the  fit  proportion  of  divei-s  members  to  make  up 
one  body,  when  every  member  hath  a  beauty  in  itself,  and  is  likewise  well 
suited  to  other  parts.  A  fair  face  and  a  crooked  body,  comely  upper  parts, 
and  the  lower  parts  micomely,  suit  not  well ;  because  comeliness  stands  in 
oneness,  in  a  fit  agreement  of  many  parts  to  one.  When  there  is  the  head 
of  a  man,  and  the  body  of  a  beast,  it  is  a  monster  in  nature  ;  and  is  it  not 
as  monstrous  for  to  have  an  understanding  head,  and  a  fierce  untamed  heart  ? 
It  cannot  but  raise  up  a  holy  indignation  in  us  against  these  risings,  when 
we  consider  how  unbeseeming  they  are.  What  do  these  base  passions 
in  a  heart  dedicated  to  God,  and  given  up  to  the  government  of  his  Spu'it  ? 
what  an  indignity  is  it  for  princes  to  go  afoot,  and  servants  on  horseback  ? 
for  those  to  rule,  whose  place  is  to  be  ruled  ?  as  being  good  attendants,  but 
bad  guides.     It  was  Ham's  curse  to  be  a  '  servant  of  servants,'  Gen.  ix.  25. 

(8.)  This  must  be  strengthened  with  a  strong  self-denial,  without  which 
there  can  be  no  good  done  in  religion. 

There  be  two  things  that  most  trouble  us  in  the  way  to  heaven,  corrup- 
tion within  us,  and  the  cross  without  us :  that  which  is  within  us  must  be 
denied,  that  that  which  is  without  us  may  be  endm-ed.  Otherwise  we 
*  That  is,  'position.' — Ed. 


THE  soul's  conflict.  169 

cannot  follow  him  by  whom  we  look  to  be  saved.  The  gate,  the  entrance 
of  rehgion,  is  narrow ;  we  must  strip  ourselves  of  ourselves  before  we  can 
enter  ;  if  we  bring  any  ruling  lust  to  religion,  it  will  prove  a  bitter  root  of 
some  gross  sin,  or  of  apostasy  and  final  desperation. 

Those  that  sought  the  praise  of  men  more  than  the  praise  of  God,  John 
xii,  43,  could  not  beheve,  because  that  lust  of  ambition  would,  when  it 
should  be  crossed,  draw  them  away.  The  young  man  thought  it  better  for 
Christ  to  lose  a  disciple  than  that  he  should  lose  his  possession,  and  there- 
fore went  away  as  he  came.  Mat.  xix.  22.  The  'third  ground,'  Mat.  xiii.  25, 
came  to  nothing ;  because  the  plough  had  not  gone  deep  enough  to  break 
up  the  roots,  whereby  their  hearts  were  fastened  to  earthly  contentments. 
This  self-denial  we  must  carry  with  us  through  all  the  parts  of  rehgion, 
both  in  our  active  and  passive  obedience ;  for  in  obedience  there  must  be 
a  subjection  to  a  superior ;  but  corrupt  self  neither  is  subject,  nor  can  be, 
Eom.  viii.  7.  It  will  have  an  oar  in  everything,  and  maketh  everything, 
yea,  rehgion,  serviceable  to  itself.  It  is  the  idol  of  the  world,  or  rather 
the  god  that  is  set  highest  of  all  in  the  soul ;  and  so  God  himself  is  made 
but  an  idol.  It  is  hard  to  deny  a  friend  who  is  another  self,  harder  to 
deny  a  wife  that  lieth  in  the  bosom,  but  most  hard  to  deny  ourselves. 
Nothing  so  near  us  as  ourselves  to  ourselves,  and  yet  nothing  so  far  off. 
Nothing  so  dear,  and  yet  nothing  so  mahcious  and  troublesome.  Hypo- 
crites would  part  with  the  fruit  of  their  body,  Mic.  vi.  7,  sooner  than  the 
sin  of  their  souls. 


Chapter  XI. — Sig7is  of  victory  over  ourselves,  and  of  a  subdued  sinrit. 

Quest.  But  how  shall  we  know  whether  we  have  by  grace  got  the  victory  over 
ourselves  or  not  ? 

Am.  I  answer,  1.  If  in  good  actions  we  stand  not  so  much  upon  the  credit 
of  the  action  as  upon  the  good  that  is  done.  What  we  do  as  unto  God,  we 
look  for  acceptance  from  God.  It  was  Jonah  his  fault  to  stand  more  upon 
his  own  reputation  than  the  glory  of  God's  mercy.  It  is  a  prevailing  sign 
when,  though  there  be  no  outward  encouragements,  nay,  though  there  be 
discouragements,  yet  we  can  rest  in  the  comfort  of  a  good  intention.  For 
usually  inward  comfort  is  a  note  of  inward  sincerity.  Jehu, must  be  seen, 
or  else  all  is  lost,  2  Kings  x.  16. 

2.  It  is  a  good  evidence  of  some  prevailing  when,  iqion  religious  grounds, 
we  can  cross  ourselves  in  those  things  unto  which  our  hearts  stand  most  affected. 
This  sheweth  we  reserve  God  his  own  place  in  our  hearts. 

3.  When,  being  privy  to  our  own  inchnation  and  temper,  we  have  gotten 
such  a  supply  of  Spirit  as  that  the  grace  which  is  contrary  to  our  temper 
appears  in  m.  As  oft  we  see  none  more  patient  than  those  that  are 
naturally  inclined  to  intemperancy  of  passion,  because  natural  proneness 
makes  them  jealous  over  themselves.  Some,  out  of  fear  of  being  over- 
much moved,  are  not  moved  so  much  as  they  should  be.  This  jealousy 
stirreth  us  up  to  a  careful  use  of  all  helps.  Where  gi-ace  is  helped  by 
nature,  there  a  httle  grace  will  go  far ;  but  where  there  is  much  untoward- 
ness  of  nature,  there  much  grace  is  not  so  well  discerned.  Sour  wines 
need  much  sweetening.  And  that  is  most  spii'itual  which  hath  least  help 
from  nature,  and  is  won  by  prayer  and  pains. 

4.  When  we  are  not  p)(^'>'ticd  when  the  things  concern  ourselves.  David 
could  allow  himself  another  man's  wife,  and  yet  judgeth  another  man 


( 


170  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

worthy  of  death  for  taking  away  a  poor  man's  lamb,  2  Sam.  xii.  4.  Men 
usually  favom*  themselves  too  much  when  they  are  chancellors  in  their  own 
cause,  and  measure  aU  things  by  their  private  interest.  He  hath  taken  a 
good  degree  in  Christ's  school  that  hath  learned  to  forget  himself  here. 

5.  It  is  a  good  sign  when,  upon  discovery  of  self-seeking,  we  can  gain 
upon  our  corruption;  and  are  willing  to  search  and  to  be  searched,  what 
our  inclination  is,  and  where  it  faileth.  That  which  we  favour  we  are 
tender  of,  it  must  not  be  touched.  A  good  heart,  when  any  corruption  is 
discovered  by  a  searching  ministry,  is  affected  as  if  it  had  found  out  a 
deadly  enemy.     Touchiness  and  passion  argues  guilt. 

6.  This  is  a  sign  of  a  man's  victory  over  himself,  when  he  loves  heaii,ji 
and  peace  of  body  and  mind,  with  a  supply  of  all  needful  things,  chiefly 
for  this  end,  that  he  may  with  more  freedom  of  spirit  serve  God  in  doing  good 
to  others.  So  soon  as  grace  entereth  into  the  heart,  it  frameth  the  heart 
to  be  in  some  measure  public ;  and  thinks  it  hath  not  its  end  in  the  bare 
enjoying  of  anything,  until  it  can  improve  what  it  hath  for  a  further  end. 
Thus  to  seek  ourselves  is  to  deny  ourselves,  and  thus  to  deny  ourselves  is 
tnily  to  seek  om-selves.  It  is  no  self-seeking  when  we  care  for  no  more 
than  that,  without  which  we  cannot  comfortably  serve  God.  When  the 
soul  can  say  unto  God,  Lord,  as  thou  wouldst  have  me  serve  thee  in  my 
place,  so  grant  me  such  a  measure  of  health  and  strength,  wherein  I  may 
serve  thee. 

Object.  But  what  if  God  thinks  it  good  that  I  shall  serve  him  in  weakness, 
and  in  want  and  suffering  ? 

Ans.  Then  it  is  a  comfortable  sign  of  gaining  over  our  own  wills,  when 
we  can  yield  ourselves  to  be  disposed  of  by  God,  as  knowing  best  what 
is  good  for  us.  There  is  no  condition  but  therein  we  may  exercise  some 
grace,  and  honour  God  in  some  measure.  Yet  because  some  enlargement 
of  condition  is  ordinarily  that  estate  wherein  we  are  best  able  to  do  good 
in,  we  may  in  the  use  of  means  desire  it,  and  upon  that  resign  up  our- 
selves whoUy  imto  God,  and  make  his  will  our  vsdll,  without  exception  or 
reservation,  and  care  for  nothing  more  than  we  can  have  with  his  leave 
and  love.  This  Job  had  exercised  his  heart  unto ;  whereupon  in  that  great 
change  of  condition  he  sinned  not.  Job  ii.  10  ;  that  is,  fell  not  into  the  sins 
incident  to  that  dejected  and  miserable  state  ;  into  sins  of  rebellion  and  dis- 
content. He  carried  his  crosses  comely,  with  that  staidness  and  resigned- 
ness  which  became  a  holy  man. 

7.  It  is  further  a  clear  evidence  of  a  spirit  subdued,  when  we  will  discover 
the  truth  of  our  affection  towards  God  and  his  pteople,  though  with  censure  of 
others.  David  was  content  to  endure  the  censure  of  neglecting  the  state 
and  majesty  of  a  king,  out  of  joy  for  settling  the  ark,  2  Sam.  vi.  22. 
Nehemiah  could  not  dissemble  his  grief  for  the  rums  of  tHe  church,  though 
in  the  king's  presence,  Neh.  ii.  3.  It  is  a  comfortable  sign  of  the  wasting 
of  self-love,  when  we  can  be  at  a  point  what  becomes  of  ourselves,  so  it  go 
well  with  the  cause  of  God  and  the  church. 

Now  the  way  to  prevail  still  more  over  ourselves,  as  when  we  are  to  do 
or  suffer  anything,  or  withstand  any  person  in  a  good  cause,  &c.,  is,  not 
to  think  that  we  are  to  deal  with  men,  yea,  or  with  devils,  so  much  as 
with  ourselves.  The  saints  resisted  their  enemies  to  death,  by  resisting 
their  own  corruptions  first.  If  we  once  get  the  victory  over  ourselves,  all 
other  things  are  conquered  to  our  ease.  All  the  hurt  Satan  and  the  world 
do  us,  is  by  correspondency  with  ourselves.  AU  things  are  so  far  under 
us,  as  we  are  above  ourselves.     Te  vince,  et  mundus  tibi  victus  est,  &c. 


THE  soul's  conflict.  171 

For  the  farther  subduing  of  ourselves,  it  is  good  to  follow  sin  to  the  first 
hold  and  castle,  which  is  corrupt  nature ;  the  streams  will  lead  us  to  the 
spring  head.  Indeed,  the  most  apparent  discovery  of  sin  is  in  the  outward 
carriage ;  we  see  it  in  the  fruit  before  in  the  root,  as  we  see  gi'ace  in  the 
expression  before  in  the  affection.  But  yet  we  shall  never  hate  sin 
thoroughly  until  we  consider  it  in  the  poisoned  root  from  whence  it  ariseth. 

That  which  least  troubles  a  natural  man  doth  most  of  all  trouble  a  true 
Christian.  A  natural  man  is  sometimes  troubled  with  the  fruit  of  his  cor-  -^ 
ruption,  and  the  consequents  of  guilt  and  punishment  that  attend  it ;  but  a 
true-heartyd  OhiisLiau  vviLh  CuTrupIion  itself.  This  di'ives  him  to  complain, 
with  St  Paul,  *  0  wretched  man  that  I  am,  who  shall  dehver  me,'  not  from 
the  members  only,  but  '  from  this  body  of  death  ?'  Eom.  vii.  24,  which  is  — 
as  noisome  to  my  soul  as  a  dead  carrion  is  to  my  senses,  which,  together 
with  the  members,  is  marvellously  nimble  and  active,  and  hath  no  days,  or 
hours,  or  minutes  of  rest ;  always  laying  about  it  to  enlarge  itself,  and  like 
spring  water,  which,  the  more  it  issueth  out,  the  more  it  may. 

It  is  a  good  way,  upon  any  particular  breach  of  our  inward  peace,  pre- 
sently to  have  recourse  to  that  which  breeds  and  foments  all  our  disquiet. 
Lord !  what  do  I  complain  of  this  my  unruly  passion  ?  1  carry  a  nature 
about  me  subject  to  break  out  continually  upon  any  occasion.  Lord ! 
strike  at  the  root,  and  dry  up  the  fountain  in  me.  Thus  David  doth  arise 
from  the  guilt  of  those  two  foul  sins  of  murder  and  adulterv.  JPs.  li.  5,  to^^ 
the  sin  of  his  nature,  the  root  itself;  as  if  he  should  say.  Lord,  it  is  not 
these  actual  sins  that  defile  me  only,  but  if  I  look  back  to  my  first  concep- 
tion, I  was  tainted  in  the  spring  of  my  nature. 

This  is  that  which  put  David's  soul  so  much  out  of  frame ;  for  from 
whence  was  this  contradiction  ?  and  whence  was  this  contradiction  so  un- 
wearied in  making  head  again  and  again  against  the  checks  of  the  Spirit  in 
him  ?  Whence  was  it  that  corruption  would  not  be  said  nay  ?  Whence 
were  these  sudden  and  unlocked  for  objections  of  the  flesh  ?  but  from  the 
remainder  of  old  Adam  in  him,  which,  hke  a  Michal  within  us,  is  either 
scoffing  at  the  ways  of  God,  or,  as  a  Job's  wife,  fretting  and  thwarting  the 
motions  of  God's  Spirit  in  us  ;  which  prevails  the  more  because  it  is  home- 
bred  in  us,  whereas  holy  motions  are  strangers  to  most  of  our  souls.  Cor- 
ruption is  loath  that  a  new  comer-in  should  take  so  much  upon  him  as  to 
control,  as  the  Sodomites  thought  much  that  Lot,  being  a  stranger,  should 
intermeddle  amongst  them,  Gen.  xix.  9.  If  God  once  leave  us,  as  he  did 
Hezekiah,  to  try  what  is  in  us,  what  should  we  find  but  darkness,  rebellion, 
unruliness,  doubtings,  &c.,  in  the  best  of  us.  This  flesh  of  ours  hath  prin- 
ciples against  aU  God's  principles,  and  laws  against  all  God's  laws,  and 
reasons  against  all  God's  reasons.  Oh,  if  we  could  but  one  whole  hour 
seriously  think  of  the  impure  issue  of  our  hearts,  it  would  bring  us  down 
upon  our  knees  in  humiliation  before  God !  But  we  can  never  whilst  we 
hve,  so  thoroughly  as  we  should,  see  into  the  depth  of  our  deceitful  hearts, 
nor  yet  be  humbled  enough  for  what  we  see  ;  for  though  we  speak  of  it  and 
confess  it,  yet  we  are  not  so  sharpened  against  this  corrupt  flesh  of  ours  aa 
jve  should.  How  should  it  humble  us  that  the  seeds  of  the  vilest  sin,  even. 
of  the^sm~a^!J.lUijt  the  Holy  Ghnst,.  is  m  \is  ?  And  no  thank  to  us  that  they 
break  not  ouE  It  should  humble  us  to  hear  of  any  great  enormous  sin  in 
another  man,  considering  what  our  own  nature  would  proceed  unto  if  it 
were  not  restrained  (c).  We  may  see  our  own  nature  in  them  as  face 
answering  face,  Prov.  xxvii.  19.  If  God  should  take  his  Spirit  from  us, 
there  is  enough  in  us  to  defile  a  whole  world ;  and  although  we  be  ingrafted 


172  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT, 

into  Christ,  yet  we  carry  about  us  a  relisli  of  the  old  stock  still.  David  was 
a  man  of  a  good  natural  constitution,  and,  for  grace,  a  man  after  God's 
own  heart,  and  had  got  the  better  of  himself  in  a  great  measure,  and  had 
learned  to  overcome  himself  in  matter  of  revenge,  as  in  Saul's  case,  1  Sam. 
xxiv.  6 ;  yet  now  we  see  the  vessel  is  shaken  a  little,  and  the  dregs  appear 
that  were  in  the  bottom  before.  Alas !  we  know  not  our  own  hearts  till 
we  plough  with  God's  heifer,  till  his  Spirit  bringeth  a  light  into  our  souls. 
It  is  good  to  consider  how  this  impure  spring  breaks  out  diversely  in  the 
diverse  conditions  we  are  in.  There  is  no  estate  of  life,  nor  no  action  we 
undertake,  wherein  it  will  not  put  forth  itself  to  defile  us ;  it  is  so  full  of 
poison  that  it  taints  whatsoever  we  do,  both  our  natures,  conditions,  and 
actions.  In  a  prosperous  condition,  like  David,  we  think  we  shall  never  be 
moved,  Ps.  xxx.  6.  Under  the  cross  the  soul  is  troubled,  and  drawn  toH 
murmur,  and  to  be  sullen,  and  sink  down  in  discouragement,  to  be  in  a  | 
heat  almost  to  blasphemy,  to  be  weary  of  our  callings,  and  to  quarrel  with 
everything  in  our  way.  See  the  folly  and  fury  of  most  men  in  this,  for  us 
silly  worms  to  contradict  the  gi-eat  God.  And  to  whose  peril  is  it  ?  Is  it 
not  our  own  ?  Let  us  gather  ourselves  with  all  our  wit  and  strength  to- 
gether ;  alas !  what  can  we  do  but  provoke  him,  and  get  more  stripes  ?  We 
may  be  sure  he  -will  deal  with  us  as  we  deal  with  our  children.  If  they  be 
froward  and  unquiet  for  lesser  matters,  we  will  make  them  cry  and  be  sullen 
for  something.  Refractory,  stubborn  horses  are  the  more  spurred,  and  yet 
shake  not  off  the  rider. 


Chapter  XII. — Of  original  righteousness,  natural  corruption,  Satan^s 
joining  with  it,  and  our  duty  thereupon. 

Object.  §  I.  But  here  mark  a  plot  of  spiritual  treason.  Satan,  joining 
with  our  corruption,  setteth  the  wit  on  work  to  persuade  the  soul  that  this 
inward  rebellion  is  not  so  bad,  because  it  is  natural  to  us,  as  a  condition  g£ 
nature  rising  out  of  the  first  principles  in  our  creation,  and  was  curbed  in 
by  the  bridle  of  original  righteousness,  which  they  would  have  accessary 
and  supernatural,  and  therefore  allege  that  concupiscence  is  less  odious  and 
more  excusable  in  us,  and  so  no  great  danger  in  yielding  and  betraying  our 
souls  unto  it,  and  by  that  means  persuading  us  that  that  which  is  our  dead- 
liest enemy  hath  no  harm  in  it,  nor  meaneth  any  to  us.-= 

Ans.  This  rebellion  of  lusts  against  the  understanding  is  not  natural,  as 
our  nature  came  out  of  God's  hands  at  the  first,  Gen.  i.  27  ;  for  this,  being 
evil  and  the  cause  of  evil,  could  not  come  from  God,  who  is  good  and  the 
cause  of  all  good,  and  nothing  but  good,  who,  upon  the  creation  of  aU 
things,  pronounced  them  good,  and,  after  the  creation  of  man,  pronounced 
of  all  things  that  they  were  very  good,  ver.  31.  Now,  that  which  is  ill  and 
very  ill  cannot  be  seated  at  the  same  time  in  that  which  is  good  and  veiy 
good,  jjod  created  man  at  the  first  rigMj  he  of  himself  '  sought  out  many 
inventions,'  EccTes.  vii.  29.  As  God  beautified  the  heaven  with  stars,  and 
decked  the  earth  with  variety  of  plants,  and  herbs,  and  flowers,  so  he 
adorned  man,  his  prime  ci'eature  here  below,  with  all  those  endowments 
that  were  fit  for  a  happy  condition ;  and  original  righteousness  was  fit  and  due 

*  Most  of  the  most  dangerous  opinions  of  popery,  as  justification  by  works,  state 
of  perfection,  merit,  satisfaction,  supererogation,  &c.,  spring  from  hence,  that  they 
have  slight  conceits  of  concupiscence  as  a  condition  of  nature.  Yet  some  of  them, 
as  Michael  Bayns,  professor  at  Louvain,  &c.,  are  sound  in  the  point. 


THE  soul's  conflict.  173 

to  an  original  and  happy  condition.  Therefore,  as  the  angels  were  created 
with  all  angelical  perfections,  and  as  our  bodies  were  created  in  an  absolute 
temper  of  all  the  humours,  so  the  soul  was  created  in  that  sweet  harmony 
wherein  there  was  no  discord,  as  an  instrument  in  tune,  fit  to  be  moved  to 
any  duty ;  as  a  clean,  neat  glass,  the  soul  represented  God's  image  and  holiness. 

§  II.  Therefore  it  is  so  far,  that  concupiscence  should  be  natural,  that 
the  contrary'  to  it,  namely,  righteousness,  wherein  Adam  was  created,  was 
natural  to  him  ;  though  it  were  planted  in  man's  nature  by  God,  and  so  in 
regard  of  the  cause  of  it,  was  supernatural ;  yet  because  it  was  agreeable  to 
that  happy  condition,  without  which  he  could  not  subsist,  in  that  respect 
it  was  natural,  and  should  have  been  derived,  if  he  had  stood,  together  with 
his  nature,  to  his  posterity.  As  heat  in  the  air,  though  it  hath  its  first 
impression  from  the  heat  of  the  sun,  yet  is  natural,  because  it  agreeth  to 
the  nature  of  that  element ;  and  though  man  be  compounded  of  a  spiritual ' 
and  earthly  substance,  yet  it  is  natural  that  the  baser  earthly  part  should 
be  subject  to  the  superior,  because  where  there  is  difierent  degrees  of  worthi-*^ 
ness,  it  is  fit  there  should  be  a  subordination  of  the  meaner  to  that  which 
is  in  order  higher.  The  body  naturally  desires  food  and  bpfJij^^ntent- 
ments,  yet  in  a  man  endued  with  reason,  tETs  desu'e  is  governed  so  as  it 
becomes  not  inordinate.  A  beast  sins  not  in  its  appetite,  because  it  hath 
no  power  above  to  order  it.  A  man  that  lives  in  a  sohtary  place,  far 
remote  from  company,  may  take  his  Uberty  to  live  as  it  pleaseth  him  ;  but 
if  he  comes  to  Hve  under  the  government  of  some  well-ordered  city,  then 
he  is  bound  to  submit  to  the  laws  and  customs  of  that  city,  under  penalty 
upon  any  breach  of  order ;  so  the  risings  of  the  soul,  howsoever  in  other 
creatures  they  are  not  blameable,  having  no  commander  in  themselves,  above 
them,  yet  in  man  they  are  to  be  ordered  by  reason  and  judgment. 

Therefore  it  cannot  be,  that  concupiscence  should  be  natural,  in  regard 
of  the  state  of  creation.  It  was  Adam's  sin  ;  which  had  many  sins  in  the 
womb  of  it,  that  brought  this  disorder  upon  the  soul.  Adam's  person  first 
corrupted  our  nature,  and  natm-e  being  corrupted,  corrupts  our  persons, 
and  om*  persons  being  corrupted,  increase  the  corruption  of  our  nature,  by 
custom  of  sinning,  which  is  another  nature  in  us.  As  a  stream,  the  farther 
it  runs  from  the  spring  head,  the  more  it  enlargeth  its  channel,  by  the 
running  of  lesser  rivers  into  it,  until  it  empties  itself  into  the  sea  ;  so  cor- 
ruption, till  it  be  overpowered  by  gi'ace,  swelleth  bigger  and  bigger,  so  that 
though  this  disorder  was  not  natural,  in  regard  of  the  first  creation,  yet 
since  the  fall  it  has  become  natural,  even  as  we  call  that  which  is  common 
to  the  whole  kind,  and  propagated  from  parents  to  their  children,  to  be 
natm-al ;  so  that  it  is  both  natural  and  against  nature,  natm-al  now,  but 
against  nature  in  its  first  perfection. 

And  because  corruption  is  natural  to  us,  therefore,  1,  We  dehght  in  it ; 
whence  it  comes  to  pass,  that  om*  souls  are  carried  along  in  an  easy  current, 
to  the  committing  of  any  sin  without  opposition.  2.  Because  it  is  natural, 
therefore  it  is  unwearied  and  restless,  as  hght  bodies  are  not  wearied  in  their 
motion  upwards,  nor  heavy  bodies  in  their  motion  downwards,  nor  a  stream 
in  its  running  to  the  sea,  because  it  is  natui'al :  hence  it  is  that  the  '  old  man,' 
Eph.  iv.  22,  is  never  tired  in  the  *  works  of  the  flesh,'  Gal.  v.  19,  nor  never 
drawn  diy.  When  men  cannot  act  sin,  yet  they  will  love  sin,  and  act  it  over 
again  by  pleasing  thoughts  of  it,  and  by  sinful  speculations  suck  out  the  delight 
of  sin  ;  and  are  grieved,  not  for  their  sin,  but  because  they  want  strength  and 
opportunity  to  commit  it ;  if  sin  would  not  leave  them,  they  would  never  leave 


174  THE  soul's  conflict. 

sin.  This  corruption  of  our  nature  is  not  wrought  in  us  by  reason  and  per- 
suasions, for  then  it  might  be  satisfied  with  reasons,  but  it  is  in  us  by  way  of 
a  natural  inchnation,  as  iron  is  carried  to  the  loadstone ;  and  till  our  natures 
be  altered,  no  reason  will  long  prevail,  but  our  sinful  disposition,  as  a  stream 
stopped  for  a  httle  while,  will  break  out  with  greater  violence.  3.  Being 
natui-al,  it  needs  no  help,  as  the  earth  needs  no  tillage  to  bring  forth  weeds. 
When  our  corrupt  nature  is  carried  contrary  to  that  which  is  good,  it  is 
carried  of  itself,  as  when  Satan  lies  or  murders,  it  comes  from  his  own 
cursed  nature  ;  and  though  Satan  joineth  with  our  corrupt  nature,  yet  the 
proneness  to  sin,  and  the  consent  unto  it,  is  of  ourselves. 

Quest.  §  III.  But  how  shall  we  know  that  Satan  joins  with  our  nature, 
in  those  actions  unto  which  nature  itself  is  prone  ? 

Ans.  Then  Satan  adds  his  help,  when  our  nature  is  carried  more  eagerly 
than  ordinary  to  sin  ;  as  when  a  stream  runs  violently,  we  may  know  that 
there  is  not  only  the  tide,  but  the  wind  that  carrieth  it. 

So  in  sudden  and  violent  rebellions,  it  is  Satan  that  pusheth  on  nature 
left  to  itseK  of  God.  A  stone  falls  downwards  by  its  own  weight,  but  if  it 
falls  very  swiftly,  we  know  it  is  thrown  down  by  an  outward  mover.  Though 
there  were  no  devil,  yet  our  corrupt  nature  would  act  Satan's  part  against 
itself ;  it  would  have  a  supply  of  wickedness,  as  a  serpent  doth  poison, 
from  itself,  it  hath  a  spring  to  feed  it.  Nemo  se  palpet  de  suo,  Satan  est,  dc. 
(Augustine). 

But  that  man,  whilst  he  lives  here,  is  not  altogether  excluded  from  hope 
of  happiness,  and  hath  a  nature  not  so  large  and  capable  of  sin  as  Satan's ; 
whereupon  he  is  not  so  obstinate  in  hating  God  and  working  mischief  as 
he,  &c.  Otherwise  there  is,  for  kind,  the  same  cursed  disposition,  and 
malice  of  nature  against  true  goodness  in  man,  which  is  in  the  devils  and 
damned  spirits  themselves. 

It  is  no  mitigation  of  sin,  to  plead  it  is  natural ;  for  natural  diseases,  as 
leprosies,  that  are  derived  from  parents,  are  most  dangerous,  and  least 
curable.  Neither  is  this  any  excuse,  for  because  as  it  is  natural,  so  it  is 
voluntary,  not  only  in  Adam,  in  whose  loins  we  were,  and  therefore  sinned, 
but  likewise  in  regard  of  ourselves,  who  are  so  far  from  stopping  the  course 
of  sin  either  in  ourselves  or  others,  that  we  feed  and  strengthen  it,  or  at 
least  give  more  way  to  it,  and  provide  less  against  it  than  we  should,  until 
we  come  under  the  government  of  grace  ;  and  by  that  means  we  justify 
Adam's  sin,  and  that  corrupt  estate  that  foUoweth  upon  it,  and  shew, 
that  if  we  had  been  in  Adam's  condition  ourselves,  we  would  have  made 
that  ill  choice  which  he  made.  And  though  this  corruption  of  our 
nature  be  necessary  to  us,  yet  it  is  no  violent  necessity  from  an  out- 
ward cause,  but  a  necessity  that  we  wilhngly  puU  upon  ourselves,  and 
therefore  ought  the  more  to  humble  us  ;  for  the  more  necessarily  we  sin, 
the  more  voluntarily,  and  the  more  voluntarily,  the  more  necessarily,  the 
will  putting  itself  voluntarily  into  these  fetters  of  sin.-  Necessity  is  no 
plea,  when  the  will  is  the  immediate  cause  of  any  action.  Quicquid  sibi 
imperavit  animus,  obtinuit  (Seneca).  Men's  hearts  tell  them  they  might 
rule  their  desires  if  they  would  ;  for  tell  a  man  of  any  dish  which  he  liketh, 
that  there  is  poison  in  it,  and  he  will  not  meddle  with  it :  so  tell  him  that 
death  is  in  that  sin  which  he  is  about  to  commit,  and  he  will  abstain,  if 

*  '  Fetters  of  sin.'  Margin-note  in  C — Suspirabam  ligatus,  non  ferro  aliquo,  sad 
mea  ferrea  voluntate,  vellem  meum  tenebat  inimicus,  et  inde  mihi  catenam  fecerit. 
Augustine,  Conf.  G 


THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT.  175 

he  believe  it  to  be  so  ;  if  he  believe  it  not,  it  is  his  voluntary  unbelief  and 
atheism. 

If  the  will  would  use  that  sovereignty  it  should,  and  could,  at  the  first, 
we  should  be  altogether  freed  from  this  necessity.  Men  are  not  damned 
because  they  cannot  do  better,  but  because  they  will  do  no  better ;  if  there 
were  no  will,  there  would  be  no  hell,  Cesset  voluntas  propria  et  nan  erit  in- 
fernm.  For  men  willingly  submit  to  the  rule  and  law  of  sin,  they  plead  for 
it,  and  hke  it  so  well,  as  they  hate  nothing  so  much  as  that  which  any  way 
withstandeth  those  lawless  laws. 

Those  that  think  it  their  happiness  to  do  what  they  will,  that  they  might 
be  free,  cross  their  own  desires,  for  this  is  the  way  to  make  them  most  per- 
fect slaves.  When  our  will  is  the  next  immediate  cause  of  sin,  and  our 
consciences  bear  witness  to  us  that  it  is  so,  then  conscience  is  ready  to  take 
God's  part  in  accusing  ourselves  ;  our  consciences  tell  us  to  our  faces  that 
we  might  do  more  than  we  do  to  hinder  sin,  and  that  when  we  sin,  it  is  not 
through  weakness,  but  out  of  the  wickedness  of  our  nature. 

Our  consciences  tell  us  that  we  sin  not  only  wiUingly,  but  often  with 
dehght,  so  far  forth  as  we  are  not  subdued  by  grace,  or  awed  by  something 
above  us,  and  that  we  esteem  any  restraint  to  be  our  misery.  And  where 
by  grace  the  will  is  strengthened,  so  that  it  yields  not  a  full  consent,  yet  a 
gracious  soul  is  humbled  even  for  the  sudden  risings  of  corruption  that 
prevent  deUberation.  As  here  David,  though  he  withstood  the  risings  of 
his  heart,  yet  he  was  troubled,  that  he  had  so  vile  a  heart  that  would  rise 
up  against  God,  and  therefore  takes  it  down.  Who  is  there  that  hath  not 
cause  to  be  humbled,  not  only  for  his  corruption,  but  that  he  doth  not 
resist  with  that  strength,  nor  labour  to  prevent  it  with  that  dihgence  which 
his  heart  tells  him  he  might  ? 

We  cannot  have  too  deep  apprehensions  of  this  breeding  sin,  the  mother 
and  nui'se  of  all  abominations  ;  for  the  more  we  consider  the  height,  the 
depth,  the  breadth,  and  length  of  it,  the  more  shall  we  be  humbled  in  our- 
selves, and  magnify  the  height,  the  depth,  the  breadth,  and  the  length  of 
God's  mercy  m  Christ,  Eph.  iii.  18.  The  favourers  of  nature  are  always 
the  enemies  of  grace.  This,  which  some  think  and  speak  so  weakly  and 
faintly  of,  is  a  worse  enemy  to  us  than  the  devil  himself ;  a  more  near,  a 
more  restless,  a  more  traitorous  enemy,  for  by  inteUigence  with  it  the  devil 
doth  us  all  the  hurt  he  doth,  and  by  it  maintains  forts  m  us  against  good- 
ness. This  is  that  which,  either  by  discouragement  or  contrariety,  hinders 
us  from  good ;  or  else,  by  deadness,  tediousness,  distractions,  or  corrupt 
aims,  hinders  us  m  doing  good.  This  putteth  us  on  to  evil,  and  abuseth 
what  is  good  in  us,  or  fi-om  us,  to  cover  or  colour  sin,  and  fui-nishes  us 
with  reasons  either  to  maintain  what  is  evil,  or  shifts  to  translate  it  upon 
false  causes,  or  fences  to  ann  us  against  whatsoever  shall  oppose  us  in  our 
■wicked  ways ;  though  it  neither  can  nor  will  be  good,  yet  it  would  be 
thought  to  be  so  by  others,  and  enforces  a  conceit  upon  itself  that  it  is 
good.  It  imprisons  and  keeps  down  all  light  that  may  discover  it,  both 
within  itself  and  without  itself,  if  it  he  in  its  power ;  it  flatters  itself,  and 
would  have  all  the  world  flatter  it  too,  which,  if  it  doth  not,  it  frets,  espe- 
cially if  it  be  once  discovered  and  crossed.  Hence  comes  all  the  plotting 
against  goodness,  that  sin  may  reign  without  control.  Is  it  not  a  lament- 
able case  that  man,  who,  out  of  the  very  principles  of  nature,  cannot  but 
desire  happmess  and  abhor  misery,  yet  should  be  in  love  with  eternal 
misery  in  the  causes  of  it,  and  abhor  happiness  in  the  ways  that  lead  unto 
it  ?   This  sheweth  us  what  a  wonderful  deordination  and  disorder  is  brought 


176  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

upon  man's  nature ;  for  every  other  creature  is  naturally  carried  to  that 
which  is  helpful  unto  it,  and  shuuneth  that  which  is  any  way  hurtful  and 
offensive.  Only  man  is  in  love  with  his  own  bane,  and  fights  for  those 
lusts  that  fight  against  his  soul. 

§  IV.  Our  duty  is,  1.  To  labour  to  see  this  siafal  disposition  of  ours, 
not  only  as  it  is  discovered  in  the  Scriptures,  but  as  it  discovers  itself  in 
our  own  hearts.  This  must  be  done  by  the  light  and  teaching  of  God's 
Spirit,  who  knows  us  and  all  the  tui-nings  and  windings  and  byways  of  our 
souls,  better  than  we  know  ourselves.  We  must  see  it  as  the  most  odious 
and  loathsome  thing  in  the  world,  making  our  natures  contrary  to  God's 
pure  nature,  and  of  all  other  duties  making  us  most  indisposed  to  spiritual 
duties,  wherein  we  should  have  nearest  communion  with  God,  because  it 
seizeth  on  the  veiy  spirits  of  our  minds. 

2.  We  should  look  upon  it  as  worse  than  any  of  those  filthy  streams  that 
come  from  it ;  nay,  than  all  the  impure  issues  of  our  lives  together.  There 
is  more  fire  in  the  furnace  than  in  the  sparkles  ;  there  is  more  poison  in 
the  root  than  in  all  the  branches.  For  if  the  stream  were  stopped,  and  the 
branches  cut  off,  and  the  sparkles  quenched,  yet  there  would  be  a  perpetual 
supply.  As  in  good  things,  the  cause  is  better  than  the  effect,  so  in  ill 
things  the  cause  is  worse.  Every  fruit  should  make  this  poisonful  root 
more  hateful  to  us,  and  the  root  should  make  us  hate  the  fruit  more,  as 
coming  fi-om  so  bad  a  root,  as  being  worse  in  the  cause  than  in  itself;  the 
affection  is  worse  than  the  action,  which  may  be  forced  or  counterfeited. 
We  cry  out  upon  particular  sins,  but  are  not  humbled  as  we  should  be  for 
our  impure  dispositions,  without  the  sight  of  which  there  can  be  (1.)  no^ 
jjirt^inrl  rppentauce  arising  from  the  deep  and  thorough  consideration  of  sin ; 
(2.)  no  desire  to  be  new  moulded,  without  which  we  can  never  enter  into 
so  holy  a  place  as  heaven  ;  (d.)  no  self-denial,  till  we  see  the  best  things  in 
us  are  enmity  against  God ;  f4.1  no  high  prizing  of  Christ,  without  whom 
our  natm'es,  our  persons,  and  om*  actions  are  abominable  in  God's  sight ; 
(5.)  nor  any  solid  peace  settled  in  the  soul,  which  peace  ariseth  not  from 
the  Ignorance  of  our  corruption,  or  compounding  with  it,  but  fi'om  sight  and 
hatred  of  it,  and  strength  against  it. 

3.  Consider  the  spiritualness  and  large  extent  of  the  law  of  God,  together 
with  the  curse  annexed,  which  forbids  not  only  particular  sins,  but  all  the 
kinds,  degrees,  occasions,  and  furtherances  of  sin  in  the  whole  breadth  and 
depth  of  it,  and  our  very  nature  itself,  so  far  as  it  is  corrupted  ;  for  want 
of  which  we  see  many  '  alive  without  the  law,'  Rom.  vii.  9,  jovial  and 
merry  from  ignorance  of  their  misery,  who,  if  they  did  but  once  see  their 
natures  and  lives  in  that  glass,  it  would  take  away  that  liveliness  and 
courage  from  them,  and  make  them  vile  in  their  own  eyes.  Men  usually 
look  themselves  in  the  laws  of  the  state  wherein  they  live,  and  think  them- 
selves good  enough,  if  they  are  free  from  the  danger  of  penal  statutes  ; 
this  glass  discovers  only  foul  spots,  gross  scandals,  and  breakings  out ;  or 
else  they  judge  of  themselves  by  pai-ts  of  nature,  or  common  gi'ace,  or  by 
outward  conformity  to  religion,  or  else  by  that  light  they  have  to  guide 
themselves  in  the  affairs  of  this  life,  by  their  fair  and  civil  carriage,  &c.  ; 
and  thereupon  live  and  die  without  any  sense  of  the  power  of  godliness, 
which  begins  in  the  right  knowledge  of  oui'selves,  and  ends  in  the  right 
knowledge  of  God.  The  spiritualness  and  purity  of  the  law  should  teach 
us  to  consider  the  purity  and  holiness  of  God ;  the  bringing  of  our  souls 
into  whose  presence  will  make  us  to  abhor  oui'selves,  with  Job,  '  in  dust 


THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT.  177 

and  ashes,'  Job  xlii.  6.  Contraries  are  best  seen  by  setting  one  near  the 
other ;  whilst  we  look  only  on  ourselves,  and  upon  others  amongst  whom 
we  live,  we  think  ourselves  to  be  somebody.  It  is  an  evidence  of  some 
sincerity  wrought  in  the  soul,  not  to  shun  that  hght  which  may  let  us  see 
the  foul  comers  of  our  hearts  and  lives. 

4.  The  consideration  of  this  likewise  should  enforce  us  to  carry  a  double 
guard  over  our  souls.  David  was  very  watchful,  yet  we  see  here  he  was 
surprised  unawares  bv  the  sudden  rebellion  of  his  heart.  We  should  observe 
our  hearts  as  governors  do  rebels  and  mutinous  persons.  Observation  awes 
Jhe  iieart.  We  see  to  what  an  excess  sin  growethin  those  that  deny  them- 
Telves  nothing,  nor  will  be  denied  in  anything ;  who,  if  they  may  do  what  they 
will,  will  do  what  they  may ;  who  turn  liberty  into  licence,  and  make  all 
their  abihties  and  advantages  to  do  good,  contributary  to  the  commands  of 
overruling  and  urnnly  lusts. 

Were  it  not  that  God  partly  by  his  power  suppresseth,  and  partly  by  his 
grace  subdueth  the  disorders  of  man's  nature  for  the  good  of  society,  and 
the  gathering  of  a  church  upon  earth,  corruption  would  swell  to  that  excess, 
that  it  would  overturn  and  confound  all  things  together  with  itself.  Although 
there  be  a  common  corruption  that  cleaves  to  the  nature  of  all  men  in  gene- 
ral, as  men  (as  distrust  in  God,  self-love,  a  carnal  and  worldly  disposition, 
&c.),  yet  God  so  ordereth  it,  that  in  some  there  is  an  ebb  and  decrease,  in 
others,  God  justly  leaving  them  to  themselves,  a  flow  and  increase  of  sin- 
fulness, even  beyond  the  bounds  of  ordinary  corruption,  whereby  they  be- 
come worse  than  themselves,  either  like  beasts  in  sensuahty,  or  like  devils 
in  spiritual  wickedness.  Though  all  be  blind  in  spiritual  things,  yet  some 
are  more  bUnded ;  though  all  be  hard-hearted,  yet  some  are  more  hardened ; 
though  all  be  corrupt  in  evil  courses,  yet  some  are  more  corrupted ;  and 
sink  deeper  into  rebellion  than  others. 

Sometimes  God  suffers  this  corruption  to  break  out  in  civil  men,  yea 
even  in  his  owii  children,  that  they  may  know  themselves  the  better,  and 
because  sometimes  coiTuption  is  weakened  not  only  by  smothering,  but  by 
having  a  vent,  whereupon  grace  stirs  up  in  the  soul  a  fresh  hatred  and  re- 
venge against  it ;  and  lets  us  see  a  necessity  of  having  whole  Christ,  not 
only  to  pardon  sin,  but  to  purge  and  cleanse  our  sinful  natures. 

Caution.  But  yet  that  which  is  ill  in  itself,  must  not  be  done  for  the  good 
that  comes  by  it  by  accident ;  this  must  be  a  comfort  after  our  surprisals, 
not  an  encouragement  before. 

^  5.  And  because  the  divine  nature,  wrought  in  us  by  divine  truth,  together 
with  the  Spirit  of  God,  is  the  only  counter-poison  against  all  sin,  and  what- 
soever is  contrary  to  God  in  us,  therefore  we  should  labour  that  the  truth  of 
God  may  be  gi-afted  m  our  hearts,  that  so  all  the  powers  of  our  souls  may 
relish  of  it,  that  there  may  be  a  sweet  agreement  betwixt  the  soul  and  all 
things  that  are  spiritual,  that  truth  being  engrafted  in  our  hearts,  we  may 
be  engrafted  into  Christ,  and  grow  up  in  him,  and  put  him  on  more  and 
more,  and  be  changed  into  his  likeness.  Nothing  in  heaven  or  earth  will 
work  out  corruption,  and  change  our  dispositions,  but  the  Spirit  of  Christ, 
clothing  divine  truths  with  a  divine  power  to  this  purpose. 

6.  When  corruption  rises,  pray  it  down,  as  St  Paul  did,  2  Cor.  xii.  8,  and 
to  strengthen  thy  prayer,  claim  the  promise  of  the  new  covenant,  that  God 
would  '  circumcise  our  hearts,'  and  '  wash  us  with  clean  water,'  that  he  would 
'write  his  law  in  our  hearts,  and  give  us  his  Holy  Spirit  when  we  beg  it,' 
Ezek.  ixxvi.  25-27  ;  and  look  upon  Christ  as  a  pubhc  '  fountain  open  for 
Judah  and  Jerusalem  to  wash  in,'  Zech.  xiii.  1.     Herein  consists  onr  com- 


VOL.  I, 


u. 


178  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

fort,  1,  that  Christ  hath  all  fuhaess  for  us,  and  that  our  nature  is  perfect  in 
him  •  2,  That  Christ  in  our  nature  hath  satisfied  divine  justice,  not  only  for 
•the  sin  of  our  lives,  but  for  the  sin  of  our  nature.  And,  3,  That  he  will 
never  give  over  until  by  his  Spirit  he  hath  made  our  nature  holy  and  pure 
as  his  own,  till  he  hath  taken  away  not  only  the  reign,  but  the  very  life  and 
bein»  of  sin  out  of  our  hearts.  4,  That  to  this  end  he  leaves  his  Spirit  and 
truth  in  the  church  to  the  end  of  the  world,  that  the  seed  of  the  Spirit  may 
subdue  the  seed  of  the  serpent  in  us,  and  that  the  Spirit  may  be  a  never- 
faihng  spring  of  all  holy  thoughts,  desires,  and  endeavours  in  us,  and  dry 
up  the  contraiy  issue  and  spring  of  corrupt  nature. 

And  Christians  must  remember,  when  they  are  much  annoyed  with  their 
corruptions,  that  it  is  not  their  particular  case  alone,  but  the  condition  of 
all  God's  people,  lest  they  be  discouraged  by  looking  on  the  ugly  deformed 
visage  of  old  Adam,  which  affrighteth  some  so  far  that  it  makes  them  think, 
no  man's  nature  is  so  vile  as  theirs  ;  which  were  well  if  it  tended  to  humi- 
liation only  ;  but  Satan  often  abuseth  it  towards  discouragement  and  despe- 
ration. Many  out  of  a  misconceit  think  that  corruption  is  greatest  when 
they  feel  it  most,  whereas  indeed,  the  less  we  see  it  and  lament  it,  the  more 
it  is.  Sighs  and  groans  of  the  soul  are  like  the  pores  of  the  body,  out  of 
which  in  diseased  persons  sick  humours  break  forth  and  so  become  less. 
The  more  we  see  and  grieve  for  pride,  which  is  ^n  innTnp.diate  issue  of  our 
/  corrupted  nature,  the  less  it  is,  because  we  see  it  by  a  contrary  grace  ;  the 
^^^  more  sight  the  more  hatred,  the  more  hatred  of  sin,  the  more  love  of  graced 
"and  the  more  love  the  more  life,  which  the  more  lively  it  is,  the  more  it  is 
sensible  of  the  contrary.  Upon  every  discovery  and  conflict  corruption  loses 
some  ground,  and  grace  gains  upon  it. 


Chapter  XHI. — Of  imagination,  sin  of  it,  and  remedies  for  it. 

§  I.  And  amongst  all  the  faculties  of  the  soul,  most  of  the  disquiet  and 
unnecessary  trouble  of  our  lives  arises  from  the  vanity  and  ill  government 
of  that  power  of  the  soul  which  we  caU  imaahiation  and  o^mimk,  bordering 
between  the  senses  and  our  understanding;  which  is  nothing  else  but  a 
shallow  apprehension  of  good  or  evil  taken  from  the  senses.  Now  because 
outward  good  or  evil  things  agree  or  disagree  to  the  senses,  and  the  life  of 
sense  is  in  us  before  the  use  of  reason,  and  the  delights  of  sense  are  present, 
and  pleasing  and  suitable  to  our  natures,  thereupon  the  imagination  setteth 
a  great  price  upon  sensible  good  things  ;  and  the  judgment  itself  since  the 
fall,  until  it  hath  a  higher  light  and  strength,  yieldeth  to  our  imagination. 
Hence  it  comes  to  pass  that  the  best  things,  if  they  be  attended  with  sensible 
inconveniences,  as  want,  disgrace  in  the  world,  and  such  like,  fire  misjudged 
for  evil  things  ;  and  the  very  worst  things,  if  they  be  attended  with  respect 
in  the  world,  and  sensible  contentments,  are  imagiaed  to  be  the  greatest 
good;  which  appears  not  so  much  in  men's  words  (because  they  are  ashamed 
to  discover  their  hidden  folly  and  atheism),  but  the  lives  of  people  speak  as 
much,  in  that  particular  choice  which  they  make.  Many  there  are  who 
think  it  not  only  a  vain  but  a  dangerous  thing  to  serve  God,  and  a  base 
thing  to  be  awed  with  religious  respect ;  they  count  the  ways  that  God's 
people  take  no  better  than  madness,  and  that  course  which  God  takes  m 
bringing  men  to  heaven  by  a  plain  publishing  of  heavenly  truths,  to  be  nothing 
but  foolishness ;  and  those  people  that  regard  it,  are  esteemed,  as  the 
Pharisees  esteemed  them  that  heard  Christ,  ignorant,  base,  and  despicable  per- 


THE  soul's  conflict.  179 

sons.  Hence  arise  all  those  false  prejudices  against  the  ways  of  holiness, 
as  they  in  the  Acts  were  shy  in  entertaining  the  truth,  because  it  was  '  a  way 
everywhere  spoken  against,'  Acts  xxviii.  22,  The  doctrine  of  the  cross  hath 
the  cross  always  following  it,  which  imagination  counteth  the  most  odious 
and  bitter  thing  in  the  world. 

This  imagination  of  om's  is  become  the  seat  of  vanity,  and  thereupon  of 
vexation  to  us,  because  it  apprehends  a  greater  happiness  in  outward  good 
things  than  there  is,  and  a  greater  misery  in  outward  evil  things  than  in- 
deed there  is_^  and  when  experience  shews  us  that  there  is  not  that  good  in 
those  things  which  we  imagine  to  be,  but,  contrarily,  we  find  much  evil  in 
them  which  we  never  expected,  hereupon  the  soul  cannot  but  be  troubled. 
The  life  of  many  men,  and  those  not  the  meanest,  is  almost  nothing  else 
but  a  fancy ;  that  which  chiefly  sets  their  wits  awork  and  takes  up  most  of 
their  time  is  how  to  please  their  own  imagination,  which  setteth  up  an  ex- 
cellency, within  itself,  in  comparison  of  which  it  despiseth  all  true  excel- 
lency and  those  things  that  are  of  most  necessary  consequence  indeed. 
Hence  springs  ambition  and  the  vein  of  being  great  in  the  world ;  hence 
comes  an  unmeasurable  desire  of  abounding  in  those  things  which  the 
world  esteems  highly  of.  There  is  in  us  naturally  a  competition  and  desire 
of  being  equal  or  above  others  in  that  which  is  generally  thought  to  make 
us  happy  and  esteemed  amongst  men.  If  we  be  not  the  only  men,  yet  we 
wiU  be  somebody  in  the  world ;  something  we  wiU  have  to  be  highly 
esteemed  for,  wherein  if  we  be  crossed,  we  count  it  the  greatest  misery  that 
can  befall  us. 

And,  which  is  worse,  acorrupt  desu'e  of  being  great  in  the  opinion  of 
qthgis  creeps  into  the  profession  of  rehgion,  if  we  live  in  those  places 
wherein  it  brings  credit  or  gam.  Men  wiU  sacrifice  their  yery  lives  for 
vainglory.  It  is  an  evidence  a  man  lives  more  to  opinion  and  reputation 
ofothers  than  to  conscience,  when  his  grief  is  more  for  being  disappointed 
of  that  approbation  which  he  expects  from  men,  than  for  his  miscarriage  to- 
wards God.  It  mars  all  in  rehgion  when  we  go  about  heavenly  things  with 
earthly  afiections,  and  seek  not  Christ  in  Christ,  but  the  world.  What  is 
popery  but  an  artificial  frame  of  man's  brain  to  please  men's  imaginations 
by  outward  state  and  pomp  of  ceremonies,  like  that  golden  image  of  Nebu- 
chadnezzar, wherein  he  pleased  himself  so,  that,  to  have  uniformity  in  wor- 
shipping the  same,  he  compelled  aU,  under  pain  of  death,  to  fall  down 
before  it,  Dan.  iii.  6.  This  makes  superstitious  persons  always  cruel,  be- 
cause superstitious  devices  are  the  brats  of  our  own  imagination,  wnicb  we 
strive  lor  more  than  for  the  purity  of  God's  worship.  Jlence  it  is,  likewise, 
tbat  superstitious  persons  are  restless  (as  the  woman  of  Samaria)  in  their 
own  spirits,  as  having  no  bottom,  but  fancy  iustead  of  faith. 

§  n.  Now,  the  reason  why  imagination  works  so  upon  the  soul  is,  be- 
cause it  stirs  up  the  afiections  answerable  to  the  good  or  ill  which  it  appre- 
hends, and  our  afiections  stir  the  humours  of  the  body,  so  that  oftentimes 
both  our  souls  and  bodies  are  troubled  hereby. 

Things  work  upon  the  soul  in  this  order :  1.  gome  object  is  presented., 
2.  Then  it  is  apprehendpd  by  imagination  as  good  and  pleasing,  or  as  evil 
and  hurtful.  3.  If  good,  the  desire  is  carried  to  it  with  delight ;  if  evU, 
it  is  rejected  with  distaste,  and  so  our  affections  are  stirred  up  suitably  to 
our  apprehension  of  the  object.  4.  Affections  stir  up  the  spirits.  5.  The 
spirits  raise  the  humom's,  and  so  the  whole  man  becomes  moved,  and 
oftentimes  distempered ;  this  falleth  out  by  reason  of  the  sympathy  be- 


180  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

tween  the  soul  and  body,  whereby  what  offendeth  one  redoundefli  to  the 
hurt  of  the  other. 

And  we  see  conceived*  troubles  have  the  same  effect  upon  us  as  true.  Jacob 
was  as  much  troubled  with  the  imagination  of  his  son's  death  as  if  he  had 
been  dead  indeed.  Imagination,  though  it  be  an  empty,  windy  thing,  yet 
it  hath  real  effects.  Superstitious  persons  are  as  much  troubled  for  neglect- 
ing any  voluntary  service  of  man's  invention,  as  if  they  had  offended  against 
the  direct  commandment  of  God.  Thus  superstition  breeds  false  fears,  and 
false  fear  brings  true  vexation.  It  transforms  God  to  an  idol,  imagining  him 
to  be  pleased  with  whatsoever  pleases  ourselves,  whenas  we  take  it  iU  that 
those  who  are  under  us  should  take  direction  from  themselves  and  not  from 
us  in  that  which  may  content  us.  Superstition  is  very  busy,  but  aU  in  vain. 
'  In  vain  they  worship  me,'  Mat.  xv.  9,  saith  God.  And  how  can  it  choose 
but  vex  and  disquiet  men,  when  they  shall  take  a  great  deal  of  pains  in  vain, 
and,  which  is  worse,  to  displease  most  in  that  wherein  they  think  to  please 
most.  God  blasteth  all  devised  service  with  one  demand,  '  Who  required  these 
things  at  your  hands  ?'  Isa.  i.  12.  It  were  better  for  us  to  ask  ourselves 
this  question  beforehand.  Who  required  this  ?  Why  do  we  trouble  ourselves 
about  that  which  we  shall  have  no  thank  for?  We  should  not  bring  God 
down  to  our  own  imaginations,  but  raise  our  imaginations  up  to  God. 

Now,  imagination  hurteth  us,  1.  By  false  representations.  2.  By  pre- 
venting reason,  and  so  usurping  a  censure  of  things  before  our  judgments  try 
them,  whereas  the  office  of  imagination  is  to  minister  matter  to  our  under- 
standing to  work  upon,  and  not  to  lead  it,  much  less  mislead  it,  in  any- 
thing. 3.  By  forging  matter  out  of  itself  without  ground ;  the  imaginary 
grievances  of  our  lives  are  more  than  the  real.  4.  As  it  is  an  iU  instru- 
ment of  the  understanding  to  devise  vanity  and  mischief. 

§  III.  The  way  to  cure  this  malady  in  us  is,  1.  To  labour  to  bring  these 
risings  of  our  souls  into  the  obedience  of  God's  truth  and  Spirit,  2  Cor.  x.  5. 
For  imagination,  of  itself,  if  ungoverned,  is  a  wild  and  a  ranging  thing ;  it 
wrongs  not  only  the  frame  of  God's  work  in  us,  setting  the  baser  part  of  a 
man  above  the  higher,  but  it  WTongs  likewise  the  work  of  God  in  the  crea- 
tures and  everything  else,  for  it  shapes  thmgs  as  itsell  pieaseth ;  it  maketh 
evil  good  if  it  pieaseth  the  senses,  and  good  evil  if  it  be  dangerous  and  dis- 
tasteful to  the  outward  man,  which  cannot  but  breed  an  unquiet  and  an 
unsettled  soul.  As  if  it  were  a  god,  it  can  teU  good  and  evil  at  its  pleasure ; 
it  sets  up  and  pulls  down  the  price  of  what  it  listeth.  By  reason  of  the 
distemper  of  imagination,  the  life  of  many  is  httle  else  but  a  dream.  Many 
good  men  are  in  a  long  dream  of  misery,  and  many  bad  men  in  as  long  a 
dream  of  happiness,  till  the  time  of  awaking  come,  and  all  because  they  are 
too  much  led  by  appearances.  And  as  in  a  dream  men  are  deluded  with 
false  joys  and  false  fears,  so  here  ;  which  cannot  but  breed  an  unquiet  and 
an  unsettled  soul.  Therefore,  it  is  necessary  that  God,  by  his  word  and 
Spirit,  should  erect  a  government  in  our  hearts  to  captivate  and  order 
this  licentious  faculty, 

2.  Likewise,  it  is  good  to  present  real  things  to  the  souL  as  the  true  riches 
and  true  misery  of  a  Christian,  the  true  honour  and  dishonour,  true  beauty 
and  deformity,  the  true  nobleness  and  debasement,  of  the  soul.  Whatever 
is  in  the  world  are  but  shadows  of  things  in  comparison  of  those  true 
realities  which  religion  affords.  And  why  should  we  vex  ourselves  about  a 
vain  shadow?  Ps.  sxxix.  6. 

*  That  13,  '  apprehended.' — Ed. 


1 


THE  soul's  conflict.  181 

The  Holy  Ghost,  to  prevent  further  mischief  by  these  outward  things, 

E'ves  a  dangerous  report  of  them,  calling  them  vanity,  unrighteous  mammon, 
uke  xvi.  9,  uncertain  riches,  thorns,  yea,  nothing,  Prov.  xxiii.  5;  be- 
cause, though  they  be  not  so  in  themselves,  yet,  our  imagination  over- 
valuing them,  they  prove  so  to  us  upon  trial.  Now,  knowledge  that  is 
bought  by  trial  is  often  dear  bought;  and  therefore  God  would  have  us 
prevent  this  by  a  right  conceit  of  things  beforehand,  lest  trusting  to  vanity 
we  vanish  ourselves,  and  trusting  to  nothing  we  become  nothing  ourselves, 
and,  which  is  worse,  worse  than  nothing. 

3.  Oppose  serious  coymderation  against  vain  imagination ;  and  because 
otir  imagination  is  prone  to  raise  false  objects,  and  thereby  false  conceits  and 
discourses  in  us,  our  best  way  herein  is  to  propound  true  objects  of  the 
mind  to  work  upon,  as,  1.  To  consider  the  greatness  and  goodness  of 
Almighty  God  and  his  love  to  us  in  Christ.  2.  The  joys  of  heaven  and 
the  torments  of  hell.  3.  The  last  and  strict  day  of  account.  4.  The 
vanity  of  all  earthly  things.  5.  The  uncertainty  of  our  Hves,  &c.  From 
the  meditation  of  these  truths  the  soul  will  be  prepared  to  have  right  con- 
ceits of  things,  and  discourse  upon  true  grounds  of  them,  and  think  with 
itself  that  if  these  things  be  so  indeed,  then  I  must  frame  my  life  suitable 
to  these  principles.  Hence  arise  true  affections  in  the  soul,  true  fear  of 
God,  true  love  and  desire  after  the  best  things,  &c.  The  way  to  expel 
wind  out  of  our  bodies  is  to  take  some  wholesome  nourishment,  and  the 
way  to  expel  windy  fancies  from  the  soul  is  to  feed  upon  serious  truths. 

4.  Moreover,  to  the  well  ordering  of  this  unruly  faculty,  it  is  necessary 
that  our  nature  itself  should  he  changed ;  for  as  men  are,  so  they  imagine  ; 
as  the  '  treasure  of  the  heart  is,'  Mat.  xii.  35,  such  is  that  which  comes 
from  it.  Mala  mens,  mains  animus,  an  evil  heart  cannot  think  well. 
Before  the  heart  be  changed,  our  judgment  is  depraved  in  regard  of  our 
last  end ;  we  seek  our  happiness  where  it  is  not  to  be  found.  '  Wickedness 
comes  from  the  wicked,'  1  Sam.  xxiv.  13,  as  the  proverb  is.  If  we  had  as 
large  and  as  quick  apprehensions  as  Satan  himself,  yet  if  the  relish  of  our 
wiU  and  affections  be  not  changed,  they  will  set  the  imaginations  awork,  to 
devise  satisfaction  to  themselves.  For  there  is  a  mutual  working  and 
reflti&  betwixt  the  will  and  the  imagination  ;  the  imagination  stirs  up  the 
will,  and  as  the  will  is  aff'ected,  so  imagination  worketh. 

When  the  law  of  God  by  the  Spirit  is  so  written  in  our  hearts,  that  the 
law  and  our  hearts  become  agreeable  one  to  the  other,  then  the  soul  is 
inclined  and  made  pliable  to  every  good  thought.  When  the  heart  is  once 
taught  of  God  to  love,  it  is  the  nature  of  this  sweet  affection,  as  the  apostle 
saith,  to  '  think  no  evil,'  1  Cor.  xiii.  5,  either  of  God  or  man  ;  and  not 
only  so,  but  it  carries  the  bent  of  the  whole  soul  with  it  to  good,  so  that 
we  love  God  not  only  with  all  our  heart,  but  with  all  our  mind.  Mat.  xxii. 
87,  that  is,  both  with  our  understanding  and  imagination.  Love  is  an 
affection  full  of  inventions,  and  sets  the  wit  awork  to  devise  good  things  ; 
therefore  our  chief  care  should  be,  that  our  hearts  may  be  circumcised  and 
purified,  so  as  they  may  be  filled  with  the  love  of  God,  and  then  we  shall 
find  this  duty  not  only  easy,  but  delightful  unto  us.  The  prophet  healed 
the  waters  by  casting  salt  into  the  spring,  2  Engs  ii.  20,  so  the  seasoning 
of  the  spring  of  our  actions  seasons,  all.  Ar^d  indeed,  wha-t  can  be  expected 
from  man,  whilst  he  ^s  va^itj'.,  but  vain  imaginations  ?  What  can  we  look 
for  from  a  viper  li.ot  poison  ?  A  man  naturally  is  either  weaving  spiders' 
webs,  or  hatching,  cockatrices'  eggs,  Isa.  hx.  5,  that  is,  his  heart  is  exercised 
either  in.  vanity  or  mischief ;  for.  nQjt  only  the  fra,me  of  the  heart,  but  what 


182  THE  soul's  conflict. 

the  heart  frameth,  is  evil  continually,  Gen.  vi.  5.  A  wicked  man  that  ia 
besotted  with  false  conceits,  will  admit  of  no  good  thoughts  to  enter. 

6.  Even  when  we  are  good,  and  devise  good  things,  yet  there  is  still 
some  sickness  of  fancy  remaining  in  the  best  of  us,  whereby  we  work 
trouble  to  ourselves ;  and  therefore  it  is  necessary  we  should  labour  to 
restrain  and  limit  our  fancy,  and  stop  these  waters  at  the  beginning,  Prov. 
vii.  14,  giving  no  not  the  least  way  thereunto.  K  it  begins  to  grow 
wanton,  tame  the  wildness  of  it  by  fastening  it  to  the  cross  of  Christ  (whom 
we  have  pierced  with  our  sins,  Zech.  xii.  10  ;  and  amongst  other,  with 
these  sins  of  our  spirits),  who  hath  redeemed  us  from  our  vain  thoughts  and 
conversations,  1  Peter  i.  18 ;  set  before  it  the  consideration  of  the  wrath  of 
God,  of  death,  and  judgment,  and  the  woful  estate  of  the  damned,  &c.,  and 
take  it  not  off  tiU  thy  heart  be  taken  off  from  straying  from  God.  When 
it  begins  once  to  run  out  to  impertinences,  confine  it  to  some  certain  thing, 
and  then  upon  examination  we  shall  find  it  bring  home  some  honey  with 
it ;  otherwise  it  wUl  bring  us  nothing  but  a  sting  from  the  bitter  remem- 
brance of  our  former  misspent  thoughts  and  time,  which  we  should  redeem 
and  fill  up  with  things  that  most  belong  to  our  peace,  Luke  xix.  47.  Idle- 
ness is  the  hour  of  temptation,  wherein  Satan  joins  with  our  imagination, 
and  sets  it  about  his  own  work,  to  grind  his  grease  ;  *  for  the  soul  as  a  mill, 
either  grinds  that  which  is  put  into  it,  or  else  works  upon  itself.  Imagina- 
tion is  the  fiirst  wheel  of  the  soul,  and  if  that  move  amiss,  it  stirs  all  the 
inferior  wheels  amiss  with  it.  It  stirs  itself,  and  other  powers  of  the  soul 
are  stirred  by  its  motion  ;  and  therefore  the  well  ordering  of  this  is  of  the 
greater  consequence.  For  as  the  imagination  conceiveth,  so  usually  the 
judgment  concludeth,  the  will  chooseth,  the  affections  are  carried,  and  the 
members  execute. 

K  it  break  loose,  as  it  wiU  soon  run  riot,  yet  give  no  consent  of  the  will 
to  it.  Though  it  hath  defiled  the  memory,  yet  let  it  not  defile  the  will. 
Though  it  be  the  first-born  of  the  soul,  yet  let  it  not,  as  Reuben,  ascend 
unto  the  father's  bed — that  is,  our  will, — and  defile  that  which  should  be 
kept  pure  for  the  Spirit  of  Christ.f  Eesolve  to  act  nothing  upon  it,  but 
cross  it  before  it  moves  to  the  execution  and  practice  of  anything.  As  in 
sickness,  many  times  we  imagine,  by  reason  of  the  coiTuption  of  our  taste, 
physic  to  be  ill  for  us,  and  those  meats  which  nourish  the  disease  to  be 
good,  yet  care  of  health  makes  us  cross  our  own  conceits,  and  take  that 
which  fancy  abhors  ;  so  if  we  would  preserve  sound  spirits,  we  must 
conclude  against  groundless  imagination,  and  resolve  that  whatsoever  it 
suggests  cannot  be  so,  because  it  crosses  the  grounds  both  of  religion  and 
reason.  And  when  we  find  imagination  to  deceive  us  in  sensible  things, 
as  melancholy  persons  are  subject  to  mistake,  we  may  weU  gather  that  iil 
will  much  more  deceive  us  in  our  spiritual  condition  ;  and  indeed,  such  is 
the  incoherence,  impertinency,  and  unreasonableness  of  imagination,  that 
men  are  oft  ashamed  and  angry  with  themselves  afterwards,  for  giving  the 
least  way  to  such  thoughts  ;  and  it  is  good  to  chastise  the  soul  for  the 
same,  that  it  may  be  more  wary  for  time  to  come.     Whilst  men  are  led 

*  Qu.  '  grist  ?' — Ed. 

t  Bernard.^  The  following  is  the  reference  of  Sibbes  supra: — 'Plane  excla- 
mandum  nobis  est  cum  Sancto  Jacobo  atqiie  dicendum  Eeuben  primogenitus,  &c. 
Eubea  enim  et  carnalis  atque  sangninea  hujnsmodi  concupiscentia  est,  quae  tunc 
cubile  nostrum  ascendit,  cum  non  solum  memoriam  tangit  cogitatione,  sed  et  ipsum 
voluntatis  stratum  ingreditur,  et  polluit  prava  dilectione.  Bene  autem  primogenitus 
noster  dicitur  appetitus  ille  carnalis,'  &c.  &c. — Sermo  de  triplici  genere  cogitationum 
nostrarum.     Edn.  Antwerp,  1616,  p.  411.  G. 


THE  soul's  conflict.  183 

with  imagination,  they  work  not  according  to  right  rules  prescribed  to  men, 
but  as  other  baser  creatures,  in  whom  phantasy  is  the  chief  ruliag  power  ; 
and  therefore,  those  whose  will  is  guided  by  their  fancies,  live  more  hke 
beasts  than  men. 

We  allow  a  horse  to  prance  and  skip  in  a  pasture,  which  if  he  doth  when 
he  is  once  backed  by  the  rider,  we  count  him  an  unruly  and  unbroken  jade  ; 
BO  howsoever  in  other  creatures  we  allow  liberty  of  fancy,  yet  we  allow  it 
not  in  man  to  frisk  and  rove  at  its  pleasure,  because  in  him  it  is  to  be 
bridled  with  reason. 

6.  Especially  take  heed  of  those  cursed  imaginations  out  of  which,  as  of 
mother  roots,  others  spring  forth  ;  as  questioning  God's  providence,  and  care 
of  his  children,  his  justice,  his  disregarding  of  what  is  done  here  below,  &c., 
thoughts  of  putting  off  our  amendment  for  time  to  come,  and  so  blessing 
ourselves  in  any  evil  way,  thoughts  against  the  necessity  of  exact  and 
circumspect  walking  with  God,  &c.,  Eph.  v.  15.  When  these  and  such 
like  principles  of  Satan's  and  the  flesh's  divinity  take  place  in  our  hearts, 
they  block  up  the  soul  against  the  entrance  of  soul-saving  truths,  and  taint 
our  whole  conversation,  which  is  either  good  or  evil,  as  the  principles  are 
by  which  we  are  guided,  and  as  our  imagination  is,  which  lets  in  aU  to  the 
soul. 

The  Jews  in  Jeremiah's  time  were  forestalled  with  vain  imaginations 
against  sound  repentance,  and  therefore  his  counsel  is,  '  Wash  thine  heart, 
0  Jerusalem  !  how  long  shaU  vaia  thoughts  lodge  within  thee?'  Jer.  iv.  14. 

7.  Fancy  will  the  better  be  kept  within  its  due  bounds,  if  ive  consider  the 
principal  use  thereof.  Sense  and  imagination  is  properly  to  judge  what  is 
comfortable  or  uncomfortable,  what  is  pleasing  or  displeasing  to  the  out- 
ward man,  not  what  is  morally  or  spiritually  good  or  ill ;  and  thus  far  by 
the  laws  of  nature  and  civiUty  we  are  bound  to  give  fancy  contentment  both 
in  ourselves  and  others,  as  not  to  speak  or  do  anything  uncomely,  which 
may  occasion  a  loathing  or  distaste  in  our  converse  with  men ;  and  it  is  a 
matter  of  conscience  to  make  our  hves  as  comfortable  as  may  be.  As  we 
are  bound  to  love,  so  we  are  bound  to  use  all  helps  that  may  make  us 
lovely,  and  endear  us  into  the  good  affections  of  others.  As  we  are  bound 
to  give  no  offence  to  the  conscience  of  another,  so  to  no  power  or  faculty 
either  of  the  outward  or  inward  man  of  another.  Some  are  taken  off  in 
their  affection  by  a  fancy,  whereof  they  can  give  but  little  reason ;  and 
some  are  more  careless  in  giving  offence  in  this  kind,  than  stands  with  that 
Christian  circumspection  and  mutual  respect  which  we  owe  one  to  another. 
The  apostle's  rule  is  of  large  extent,  '  Whatsoever  things  are  not  only  true, 
and  honest,  and  just,  but  whatsoever  things  are  lovely  and  of  good  report, 
&c.,  think  of  these  things,'  Phil.  iv.  8.  Yet  our  main  care  should  be  to 
manifest  ourselves  rather  to  men's  consciences  than  to  their  imaginations. 

8.  It  should  be  our  wisdom,  Ukewise,  to  place  ourselves  in  the  best  con- 
veniency  of  all  outward  helps,  which  may  have  a  kind  working  upon  our  fancy ; 
and  to  take  heed  to  the  contrary,  as  time,  place,  and  objects,  &c.  There  be 
good  hours  and  good  messengers  of  God's  sending,  golden  opportunities 
wherein  God  uses  to  give  a  meeting  to  his  children,  and  breathes  good 
thoughts  into  them.  Even  the  wisest  and  holiest  men,  as  David  and 
Solomon,  &c.,  had  no  further  safety  than  they  were  careful  of  well-using 
all  good  advantages,  and  sequestering  themselves  from  such  objects  as  had 
a  working  power  upon  them.  By  suffering  their  souls  to  be  led  by  their 
fancies,  and  their  hearts  to  run  after  their  eyes,  they  betrayed  and  robbed 
themselves  of  much  grace  and  comfort,  thereupon  Solomon  cries  out  with 


184  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

erief  and  shame  from  his  own  experience,  *  Vanity  of  vanities,'  &c.  Eccles. 
i.  2.  Fancy  will  take  fire  before  we  be  aware.  Little  things  are  seeds  of 
great  matters.  Job  knew  this,  and  therefore  made  a  '  covenant  with  his 
eyes,'  Job  xxxi.  1 ;  but  a  '  fool's  eyes  are  in  the  corners  of  the  earth,'  saith 
Solomon,  Prov.  xvii.  24. 

Sometimes  the  ministering  of  some  excellent  thought — ^rcBclara  cogitatio 

from  what  we  hear  or  see,  proves  a  great  advantage  of  spiritual  good  to 

the  soul.  Whilst  St  Augustine  out  of  curiosity  delighted  to  hear  the  elo- 
quence of  St  Ambrose,  he  was  taken  with  the  matter  itself,  sweetly  sUding 
together  with  the  words  into  his  heart.*  Of  later  times,  whilst  Galeaceus 
Caracciolus,  an  Italian  marquis,  and  nephew  to  Pope  Paul  V.,  was  hearing 
Peter  Martyr  reading  upon  1  Corinthians,  and  shewing  the  deceivableness 
of  man's  judgment  in  spii'itual  things,  and  the  efficacy  of  divine  truth  in 
those  that  belong  unto  God,  and  further  using  a  similitude  to  this  purpose  : 
*  If  a  man  be  walking  afar  off,  and  see  people  dancing  together,  and  hear 
no  noise  of  the  music,  he  judges  them  fools  and  out  of  their  wits  ;  but 
when  he  comes  nearer  and  hears  the  music,  and  sees  that  every  motion  is 
exactly  done  by  art,  now  he  changes  his  mind,  and  is  so  taken  up  with  the 
sweet  agreement  of  the  gesture  and  the  music,  that  he  is  not  only  delighted 
therewith,  but  desirous  to  join  himself  in  the  number.  So  it  falls  out, 
saith  he,  with  men  :  whilst  they  look  upon  the  outward  carriage  and  con- 
versation of  God's  people,  and  see  it  differing  from  others,  they  think  them 
fools  ;  but  when  they  look  more  narrowly  into  their  courses,  and  see  a 
gracious  harmony  betwixt  their  lives  and  the  word  of  God,  then  they  begin 
to  be  in  love  with  the  "  beauty  of  holiness,"  and  join  in  conformity  of  holy 
obedience  with  those  they  scorned  before.'  This  similitude  wrought  so 
with  this  nobleman,  that  he  began,  from  that  time  forward,  to  set  his  mind 
to  the  study  of  heavenly  things. f 

One  seasonable  truth  falling  upon  a  prepared  heart,  hath  oftentimes  a 
sweet  and  strong  operation.  Luther  confesseth  that  having  heard  a  grave 
divine,  Staupicius,  say  'that  that  is  kind  repentance  which  begins  from  the 
love  of  God,'  ever  after  that  time  the  practice  of  repentance  was  sweeter  to 
him.  This  speech  of  his  likewise  took  well  with  Luther,  that  in  doubts  of 
predestination  we  should  begin  from  the  wounds  of  Christ,  doctrina  jyrades- 
tinationis  incipit  a  vuhieribics  Christi, — that  is,  from  the  sense  of  God's  love 
to  us  in  Christ,  we  should  arise  to  the  grace  given  us  in  election  before  the 
world  was,  2  Tim.  i.  9. 

The  putting  of  Uvely  colours  upon  common  truths  hath  oft  a  strong 
working  both  upon  the  fancy  and  our  will  and  affections.  The  spirit  is 
refreshed  with  fresh  things,  or  old  truths  refreshed.  This  made  the 
preacher  seek  to  find  out  pleasing  and  acceptable  words,  Eccl.  xii.  10  :  and 
our  Saviour  Christ's  manner  of  teaching  was  by  a  lively  representation  to 
men's  fancies,  to  teach  them  heavenly  truths  in  an  earthly,  sensible  man- 

*  See  the  memorable  '  confession'  in  'The  Confessions  '  of  Augustine,  Book  V., 
xiii.  23  ;  xiv.  24.     A  few  words  may  interest : — '  Though  I  took  no  pains  to  leam 

tvhat  he  spake,  but  only  to  hear  how  he  spake yet  together  with  the  wordu 

which  I  would  choose,  came  also  into  my  mind  the  things  which  I  would  refuse ; 
for  I  could  not  separate  them.  And  while  I  opened  my  heart  to  admit  "how  elo- 
quently he  spake,"  there  also  entered,  "  how  truly  he  spake ;''  but  this  by  degrees.* 

t  The  authority  given  in  the  margin  is  '  Beza  in  his  life.'  This  is  a  translation 
from  the  Italian,  and  was  published  in  1596.  No  less  than  two  translations  into 
English  are  extant :  one,  4to,  1608,  and  another,  4to,  1612.  Sibbes's  quotations  are 
from  c.  ill.    The  whole  passage  is  given  from  the  quaint  translation  of  1608,  in  Note  d. 

Q 


THE  soul's  conflict.  185 

ner ;  and  indeed,  what  do  we  see  or  hear  but  will  yield  matter  to  a  holy 
heart  to  raise  itself  higher  ? 

We  should  make  our  fancy  serviceable  to  us  in  spiritual  things,  and  take 
advantage  by  any  pleasure,  or  profit,  or  honour  which  it  presents  our 
thoughts  vnthal,  to  think  thus  with  ourselves,  '  what  is  this  to  the  true 
honour,  and  to  those  enduring  pleasures,'  &c.  ?  And  seeing  God  hath  con- 
descended to  represent  heavenly  things  to  us  under  earthly  terms,  we 
should  follow  God's  dealing  herein.  God  represents  heaven  to  us  under 
the  term  of  a  banquet,  and  of  a  kingdom,  &c.,  Luke  x.  32  ;  our  union  with 
Christ  under  the  term  of  a  marriage,  yea,  Christ  himself,  under  the  name 
of  whatsoever  is  lovely  or  comfortable  in  heaven  or  earth.  So  the  Lord 
sets  out  hell  to  us  by  whatsoever  is  terrible  or  tormenting.  Here  is  a  large 
field  for  our  imagination  to  walk  in,  not  only  without  hm-t,  but  with  a  great 
deal  of  spiritual  gain.  If  the  wrath  of  a  king  be  as  the  roaring  of  a  lion, 
Prov.  xix.  12,  what  is  the  wrath  of  the  King  of  kings  ?  If  fire  be  so  temble, 
what  is  heU  fire  ?  If  a  dark  dungeon  be  so  loathsome,  what  is  that  eternal 
dungeon  of  darkness  ?  If  a  feast  be  so  pleasing,  what  is  the  '  continual 
feast  of  a  good  conscience  ?'  Prov.  xv.  15.  If  the  meeting  of  friends  be  so 
comfortable,  what  will  our  meeting  together  in  heaven  be  ?  The  Scripture, 
by  such  like  terms,  would  help  our  faith  and  fancy  both  at  once.  A  sanc- 
tified fancy  will  make  every  creature  a  ladder  to  heaven.  And  because 
chUdhood  and  youth  are  ages  of  fancy,  therefore  it  is  a  good  way  to  instil 
into  the  hearts  of  children  betimes,  the  loving  of  good  and  the  shunning  ot 
evil,  by  such  like  representations  as  agree  with  then*  fancies,  as  to  hate  hell 
under  the  representation  of  fire  and  darkness,  &c.  Whilst  the  soul  is 
joined  with  the  body,  it  hath  not  only  a  necessary  but  a  holy  use  of  ima- 
gination, and  of  sensible  things  whereupon  our  imagination  worketh. 
What  is  the  use  of  the  sacraments  but  to  help  our  souls  by  our  senses,  and 
our  faith  by  imagination  ?  As  the  soul  receives  much  hurt  from  imagina- 
tion, so  it  may  have  much  good  thereby. 

But  yet  it  ought  not  to  invent  or  devise  what  is  good  and  true  in  reli- 
gion. Here  fancy  must  yield  to  faith,  and  faith  to  divine  revelation.  The 
things  we  believe  are  such  as  neither  *  eye  hath  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  neither 
came  into  the  heart  of  man,'  1  Cor.  ii.  9,  by  imagination  stirred  up  from 
anythiug  which  we  have  seen  or  heard.  They  are  above,  not  only  ima- 
gination, but  reason  itself,  in  men  and  angels.  But  after  God  hath  revealed 
spiritual  truths,  and  faith  hath  apprehended  them,  then  imagination  hath  use 
while  the  soul  is  joined  with  the  body,  to  colour  divine  truths,  and  make  light- 
some what  faith  beheves  ;  for  instance,  it  doth  not  devise  either  heaven  or 
hell ;  but  when  God  hath  revealed  them  to  us,  our  fancy  hath  a  fitness  of  en- 
larging our  conceits  of  them,  even  by  resemblance  from  things  in  nature,  and 
that  without  danger;  because  the  joys  of  heaven  and  the  torments  of  hell  are 
so  great  that  all  the  representations  which  nature  aifords  us  fall  short  of  them. 

Imagination  hath  likewise  some  use  in  religion,  by  putting  cases  to  the 
soul,  as  when  we  are  tempted  to  any  unruly  action  we  should  think  with 
ourselves,  what  would  I  do  if  some  holy,  grave  person  whom  I  much  rever- 
ence should  behold  me  ?  Whereupon  the  soul  may  easily  ascend  higher, 
God  sees  me,  and  my  own  conscience  is  ready  to  witness  against  me,  &c. 

It  helps  us  also  ia  taking  benefit  by  the  example  of  other  men.  Good 
things  are  best  learned  by  others  expressing  of  them  to  om*  view.  The 
very  sight  often,  nay,  the  very  thought  of  a  good  man  doth  good,  as  repre- 
senting to  our  souls  some  good  thing  which  we  aflfect — eat  aliquid  quod 
ex  magno  viro  vel  tacente  pwjicias — which  makes  histories  and  the  Uvely 


186  THE  soul's  conflict. 

characters  and  expressions  of  virtues  and  vices  useful  to  us.  The  sight, 
yea,  the  very  reading  of  the  suffering  of  the  martyrs  hath  wrought  such  a 
hatred  of  that  persecuting  church  as  hath  done  marvellous  good.  The 
sight  of  justice  executed  upon  malefactors  works  a  greater  hatred  of  sin  in 
men  than  naked  precepts  can  do.  So  outward  pomp  and  state  in  the 
world  doth  further  that  awful  respect  due  to  authority,  &c. 

9.  Lastly,  it  would  much  avail  for  the  well  ordering  of  our  thoughts  to 
set  our  souls  in  order  every  morning,  and  to  strenythen  and  perfume  our  spirits 
with  some  yracious  meditations*  especially  of  the  chief  end  and  scope  where- 
fore we  live  here,  and  how  every  thing  we  do  or  befalls  us  may  be  reduced 
and  ordered  to  further  the  main.  The  end  of  a  Christian  is  glorious,  and 
the  oft  thoughts  of  it  will  raise  and  enlarge  the  soul,  and  set  it  on  work  to 
study  how  to  make  all  things  serviceable  thereunto.  It  is  a  thing  to  be 
lamented  that  a  Christian  bom  for  heaven,  having  the  '  prize  of  his  high 
caUing,'  Phil.  iii.  14,  set  before  him,  and  matters  of  that  weight  and  excel- 
lency to  exercise  his  heart  upon,  should  be  taken  up  with  trilfles,  and  fill 
both  his  head  and  heart  with  vanity  and  nothing,  as  all  earthly  things  will 
prove  ere  long ;  and  yet  if  many  men's  thoughts  and  discourses  were  distilled, 
they  are  so  frothy  that  they  would  hardly  yield  one  drop  of  true  comfort. 

§  IV.  Obj.  Oh,  but,  say  some,  thoughts  and  imaginations  are  free,  and 
we  shall  not  be  accountable  for  them. 

A71S.  This  is  a  false  plea,  for  God  hath  a  sovereignty  over  the  whole 
soul,  and  his  law  binds  the  whole  inward  and  outward  man.  As  we  desire 
our  whole  man  should  be  saved  by  Christ,  so  we  must  yield  up  the  whole 
man  to  be  governed  by  him  ;  and  it  is  the  effect  of  the  dispensation  of  the 
gospel,  accompanied  with  the  Spirit,  to  captivate  whatsoever  is  in  man  unto 
Chiist,  and  to  bring  down  all  '  high  towering  imaginations,'  2  Cor.  x.  5,  that 
exalt  themselves  against  God's  Spirit.  There  is  a  divinity  in  the  word  of 
God,  powerfully  unfolded,  which  will  convince  our  souls  of  the  sinfulness  of 
natural  imaginations,  as  we  see  in  the  idiot,  (e)  1  Cor.  xiv.  24,  25,  who,  see- 
ing himself  laid  open  before  himself,  cried  out,  that  *  God  was  in  the 
speaker,'  1  Cor.  xiv.  25. 

There  ought  to  be  in  man  a  conformity  to  the  truth  and  goodness  of 
things,  or  else,  1,  we  shall  wrong  our  own  souls  with  false  apprehensions; 
and  2,  the  creature,  by  putting  a  fashion  upon  it  otherwise  than  God  hath 
made ;  and  3,  we  shall  wrong  God  himself,  the  author  of  goodness,  who 
cannot  have  his  true  glory  but  from  a  right  apprehension  of  things  as  they 
are.  What  a  wrong  is  it  to  men  when  we  shall  take  up  false  prejudices 
against  them  without  ground  !  and  so  suffer  our  conceits  to  be  envenomed 
against  them  by  unjust  suspicions,  and  by  this  means  deprive  ourselves  of 
all  that  good  which  we  might  receive  by  them ;  for  our  nature  is  apt  to 
judge  and  accept  of  things  as  the  persons  are,  and  not  of  persons  according 
to  the  things  themselves.  This  faculty  exercises  a  tyranny  in  the  soul, 
setting  up  and  pulling  down  whom  it  vsdll.  Job  judged  his  friends  alto- 
gether vain,  Job  xxvii.  12,  because  they  went  upon  a  vain  imagination  and 
discourse,  judging  him  to  be  an  hypocrite,  which  could  not  but  add  much  to 
his  affliction.  "When  men  take  a  toyf  in  their  head  against  a  person  or 
place,  they  are  ready  to  reason  as  he  did,  '  Can  any  good  come  out  of 
Nazareth  ?'  John  vi.  46. 

*  '  Meditations.      Sibbes  himselt  practised  this  excellent  counsel,  as  witness  his 
golden  little  volume  of  '  Meditations,'  first  published  in  1638,  18mo. 
t  That  is.  '  fancy.'— G. 


THE  soul's  conflict.  187 

It  is  an  indignity  for  men  to  be  led  with  surmises  and  probabilities,  and 
so  to  pass  a  rash  judgment  upon  persons  and  things.  Oftentimes  falsehood 
hath  a  fairer  gloss  of  probability  than  truth ;  and  vices  go  masked  under 
the  appearance  of  virtue,  whereupon  seeming  hkeness — similitudo  mater 
errorwn — breeds  a  mistake  of  one  thing  for  another  ;  and  Satan  oftentimes 
casts  a  mist  before  our  imagination,  that  so  we  might  have  a  misshapen 
conceit  of  things.  By  a  spirit  of  illusion  he  makes  worldly  tjiingfl  app^gr  *^ 
bigger  to  us,  and  spiritual  things  lesser  than  indeed  they  are ;  and  so  by 
sophisticating  of  things  our  affections  come  to  be  misled.  Imagination  is 
the  womb,  and  Satan  the  father  of  all  monstrous  conceptions  and  disordered 
lusts,  which  are  well  called  deceitful  lusts,  Eph.  iv.  22,  and  lusts  of  igno- 
rance, 1  Tim.  vi.  9,  foolish  and  noisome  lusts,  because  they  both  spring 
from  error  and  folly,  and  lead  xmto  it. 

^  We  see,  even  in  religion  itself,  how  the  world,  together  with  the  help  of 
'the  god  of  the  world,'  2  Cor.  iv.  4,  is  led  away,  if  not  to  worship  images, 
yet  to  worship  the  image  of  their  own  fancy.  And  where  the  truth  is  most 
professed,  yet  people  are  prone  to  fancy  to  themselves  such  a  breadth  of 
reHgion  as  will  altogether  leave  them  comfortless  when  things  shall  appear 
in  their  true  colours.  They  wUl  conceit  to  embrace  truth  without  hatred 
of  the  world,  and  Christ  without  his  cross,  and  a  godly  life  without  perse- 
cutions. They  would  pull  a  rose  without  pricks.  Wtich,  though  it  may 
stand  with  their  own  base  ends  for  a  while,  yet  will  not  hold  out  in  times 
of  change,  when  sickness  of  body  and  trouble  of  mind  shall  come.  Empty 
conceits  are  too  weak  to  encounter  with  real  griefs. 

Some  think  orthodox  and  right  opinions  to  be  a  plea  for  a  loose  life, 
whereas  there  is  no  ill  course  of  life  but  springs  from  some  false  opinion.  I 
God  will  not  only  call  us  to  account  how  we  have  beheved,  disputed,  and  / 
reasoned,  &c.,  but  how  we  have  Hved.     Our  care,  therefore,  should  be  to! 
build  our  profession,  not  on  seeming  appearances,  but  upon  sound  grounds,  v 
that  the  gates  of  hell  cannot  prevail  against.     The  hearts  of  many  are  so   ^ 
vain  that  they  deUght  to  be  blown  up  with  flattery,  because  they  would-^ 
have  their  imaginations  pleased,  yea,  even  when  they  cannot  but  know 
themselves  abused,  and  are  grieved  to  have  their  windy  bladder  pricked, 
and  so  to  be  put  out  of  their  conceited  happiness.     Others,  out"  '  a  tedi- 
ousness  in  serious  and  settled  thoughts,  entertain  everything  as  it  id  offered 
to  them  at  the  first  blush,  and  suffer  their  imaginations  to  ^s.^  y  them  pre- 
sently thereunto  without  further  judging  of  it.     The  wil-    Naturally  loves 
variety  and  change,  and  our  imagination  doth  it  service  herein,  as  not  de- 
lighting to  fix  long  upon  anything.     Hereupon  men  are  contented,  both  in*^ 
religion  and  in  common  life,  to  be  misled  with  prejudices  upon  shallowf 
grounds ;  whence  it  is  that  the  best  things  and  persons  suffer  much  in  the*  I 
world.     The  power  and  practice  of  religion  is  hated  under  odious  names,!  I 
and  so  condemned  before  it  is  understood ;  whence  we  see  a  necessity  ofl  1 
getting  spiritual  eye-salve,  for  without  true  knowledge  the  heart  cannot  be  \  1 
good,  Prov.  xix.  2.  ' 

It  is  just  with  God  that  tliose  who  take  liberty  in  their  thoughts  should 
be  given  up  to  their  own  imaginations,  Rom.  i.  28,  to  delight  in  them,  and 
to  be  out  of  conceit  with  the  best  things,  and  so  to  reap  the  fruit  of  their 
own  ways.  Nay,  even  the  best  of  God's  people,  if  they  take  liberty  herein, 
God  will  let  loose  their  imagination  upon  themselves,  and  suffer  them  to 
be  entangled  and  vexed  with  their  own  hearts.  Those  that  give  way  to 
their  imaginations,  shew  what  their  actions  should  be,  if  they  dared  ;  for 
if  they  forbear  doing  evil  out  of  conscience,  they  should  as  well  forbear  , 


188  THE  soul's  conflict. 

imagining  evil,  for  both  are  alike  open  to  God  and  hateful  to  him  ;  and,  there- 
fore, oft  where  there  is  no  conscience  of  the  thought,  God  gives  men  up  to  the 
deed.  The  greatest  and  hardest  work  of  a  Christian  is  least  in  sight, 
which  is  the  well  ordering  of  his  heart.  Some  buildings  have  most  work- 
manship under  ground.  It  is  our  spirits  '  that  God,  who  is  a  Spirit,'  John 
iv.  24,  hath  most  communion  withal ;  and  the  less  freedom  we  take  to  sin 
here,  the  more  argument  of  our  sincerity,  because  there  is  no  law  to  bind 
the  inner  man  but  the  law  of  the  Spirit  of  grace,  whereby  we  are  '  a  law  to 
ourselves,'  Rom.  ii.  14.  A  good  Christian  begins  his  repentance  where  his 
sin  begins,  in  his  thoughts,  which  are  the  next  issue  of  his  heart.  God 
counts  it  an  honour  when  we  regard  his  all-seeing  eye  so  much,  as  that 
we  will  not  take  hberty  to  ourselves  in  that  which  is  offensive  to  him,  no, 
not  in  our  hearts,  wherein  no  creature  can  hinder  us.  It  is  an  argument 
that  the  Spirit  hath  set  up  a  kingdom  and  order  in  our  hearts,  when  our 
spirits  rise  ^\'ithin  us  against  any  thing  that  Ufts  itself  up  against  goodness. 

§  V.  Obj.  Many  flatter  themselves,  from  an  impossibility  of  ruling  their 
imaginations,  and  are  ready  to  lay  all  upon  infirmity  and  natural  weak- 
ness, &c. 

Ans.  But  such  must  know  that  if  we  be  sound  Christians,  the  Spirit  of 
God  will  enable  us  to  do  all  things,  evangelically,  that  we  are  called  unto,  if 
we  give  way  without  check  to  the  motions  thereof.  Where  the  Spirit  is,  it 
is  such  a  hght  as  discovers  not  only  dunghills,  but  motes  themselves,  even 
hght  and  flying  imaginations,  and  abaseth  the  soul  for  them,  and  by 
degrees  purgeth  them  out ;  and  if  they  press,  as  they  are  as  busy  as  flies 
in  summer,  yet  a  good  heart  will  not  own  them,  nor  allow  himself  in  them, 
but  casts  them  off,  as  hot  water  doth  the  scum,  or  as  tne  sTom'ach  doth 
that  which  is  noisome  unto  it.  They  find  not  that  entertainment  here 
which  they  have  in  carnal  hearts,  where  the  scum  soaks  in,  which  are 
stews  of  unclean  thoughts,  shambles  of  cruel  and  bloody  thoughts,  exchanges 
and  shops  of  vain  thoughts,  a  very  forge  and  mint  of  false,  poUtic,  and 
undermining  thoughts,  yea  often  a  httle  hell  of  confused  and  black  imagina- 
tions. There  is  nothing  that  more  moveth  a  godly  man  to  renew  his  interest 
every  day  in  the  perfect  righteousness  and  obedience  of  his  Saviour,  than 
these  sinful  stirrings  of  his  soul,  when  he  finds  something  in  himself  always 
enticing  and  drawing  away  his  heart  from  God,  and  intermingling  itself 
with  his  best  performances.  Even  good  thoughts  are  troublesome  if  they 
come  unseasonably,  and  weaken  our  exact  performance  of  duty. 

§  VI.  But  here  some  misconceits  must  be  taken  heed  of. 

1.  As  we  must  take  heed  that  we  account  not  our  imaginations  to  be 
religion,  so  we  must  not  account  true  rehgion,  and  the  power  of  godliness, 
to  be  a  matter  of  imagination  only ;  as  if  holy  men  troubled  themselves 
more  than  needs,  when  they  stand  upon  rehgion  and  conscience,  seeking 
to  approve  themselves  'to  God  in  all  things,'  1  Thess.  v.  12,  and  endea- 
vouring, so  far  as  frailty  will  permit,  to  '  avoid  all  appearances  of  evil,' 
1  Thess.  V.  22.  Many  men  are  so  serious  in  vanities  and  real  in  trifles, 
that  they  count  all  which  dote  not  upon  such  outward  excellencies  as  they 
do,  because  the  Spirit  of  God  hath  revealed  to  them  things  of  a  higher, 
nature,  to  be  fantastics  and  humorous  *  people,  and  so  impute  the  work  of 
the  Spirit  to  the  flesh,  God's  work  to  Satan,  which  comes  near  unto  blas- 
phemy. They  imagine  good  men  to  be  led  with  vain  conceits,  but  good 
*  That  is,  '  -whimsical.' — G. 


THE  soul's  conflict.  189 

men  know  them  to  be  so  led.  Not  only  St  Paul,  Acts  xxvi.  24,  but  Christ 
himself,  John  x.  20,  were  counted  beside  themselves,  when  they  were 
earnest  for  God  and  the  souls  of  his  people.  But  there  is  enough  in 
rehgion  to  bear  up  the  soul  against  all  imputations  laid  upon  it :  the  true 
children  of  wisdom  are  always  able  to  justify  their  mother,  Mat.  xi.  19, 
and  the  conscionable  practice  of  holy  duties,  if  founded  upon  such  soUd 
grounds  as  shall  hold  out  when  heaven  and  earth  shall  vanish. 

2.  We  must  know  that — as  there  is  great  danger  in  false  conceits  of  the 
way  to  heaven,  when  we  make  it  broader  than  it  is,  for  by  this  means  we 
are  like  men  going  over  a  bridge,  who  think  it  broader  than  it  is,  but  being 
deceived  by  some  shadow,  sink  down,  and  are  suddenly  drowned ;  so  men 
mistaking  the  straight  way  to  hfe,  and  trusting  to  the  shadow  of  their  own 
imagination,  fall  into  the  bottomless  pit  of  hell  before  they  are  aware; — in 
like  manner  the  danger  is  great  in  making  the  way  to  heaven  narrower 
than  indeed  it  is,  by  weak  and  superstitious  imaginations,  making  more 
sins  than  God  hath  made.  The  wise  man's  counsel  is,  that  we  should  not 
make  ourselves  over-wicked,  nor  be  fooUsher  than  we  are,  Eccl.  vii.  17,  by 
devising  more  sins  in  our  imagination  than  we  are  guilty  of. 

It  is  good  in  this  respect,  to  know  our  Christian  liberty,  which  being 
one  of  the  fruits  of  Christ's  death,  we  cannot  neglect  the  same,  without 
much  wrong  not  only  to  ourselves,  but  to  the  rich  bounty  and  goodness  of 
God.  So  that  the  due  rules  of  limitation  be  observed,  from  authority,  piety, 
sobriety,  needless  offence  of  others,  &c.,  we  may  with  better  leave,  use  all 
those  comforts  which  God  hath  given  to  refresh  us  in  the  way  to  heaven, 
than  refuse  them.  The  care  of  the  outward  man  binds  conscience  so  far, 
as  that  we  should  neglect  nothing  which  may  help  us  in  a  cheerful  serving 
of  God,  in  our  places,  and  tend  to  the  due  honour  of  our  bodies,  which  are 
the  '  temples  of  the  Holy  Ghost,'  1  Cor.  iii.  16,  17,  and  companions  with 
our  souls  in  all  performances,  so  that  under  this  pretence  we  take  not  too 
much  hberty  to  satisfy  the  lusts  of  the  body.  Intemperate  use  of  the  crea- 
tures is  the  nurse  of  all  passions ;  because  our  spirits,  which  are  the  soul's 
instruments,  are  hereby  inflamed  and  disturbed.  It  is  no  wonder  to  see 
an  intemperate  man  transported  into  any  passion. 

3.  Some  out  of  their  high  and  airy  imaginations,  and  out  of  their  iron 
and  flinty  philosophy,  will  needs  think  outward  good  and  ill,  together  with 
the  affections  of  grief  and  delight  stirred  up  thereby,  to  be  but  opinions  and 
conceits  of  good  and  evil  only,  not  true,  and  really  so  founded  in  nature, 
but  taken  up  of  ourselves.  But  though  our  fancy  be  ready  to  conceit  a 
greater  hurt  in  outward  evils  than  indeed  there  is,  as  in  poverty,  pain  of 
body,  death  of  friends,  &c.,  yet  we  must  not  deny  them  to  be  evils.  That 
wormwood  is  bitter,  it  is  not  a  conceit  only,  but  the  nature  of  the  thing 
itself,  yet  to  abstain  from  it  altogether,  for  the  bitterness  thereof,  is  a  hurt- 
ful conceit.  That  honey  is  sweet,  it  is  not  a  conceit  only,  but  the  natural 
quality  of  it  is  so  ;  yet  out  of  a  taste  of  the  sweetness,  to  think  we  cannot 
take  too  much  of  it,  is  a  misconceit  paid  home  with  loathsome  bitterness. 
Outward  good  and  outward  evil,  and  the  affections  of  dehght  and  sorrow 
rising  thence,  are  naturally  so,  and  depend  not  upon  our  opinion.  This 
were  to  offer  violence  to  nature,  and  to  take  man  out  of  man,  as  if  he  were 
not  flesh  but  steel.  Universal  experience,  from  the  sensibleness  of  our 
nature  in  any  outward  grievance,  is  sufficient  to  damn  this  conceit. 

The  way  to  comfort  a  man  in  grief,  is  not  to  tell  him  that  it  is  only  a 
conceit  of  evil,  and  no  evil  indeed  that  he  suffers.  This  kind  of  learning 
will  not  down  with  him,  as  being  contrary  to  hie  present  feeling.     But  the 


190  THE  SOUL'S  CONFLICT. 

way  is,  to  yield  unto  him  that  there  is  cause  of  grieving,  though  not  of  over- 
grieving,  and  to  shew  him  grounds  of  comforts  stronger  than  the  grief  he 
suffers.  We  should  weigh  the  degrees  of  evil  in  a  right  balance,  and  not 
suffer  fancy  to  make  them  greater  than  they  are  ;  so  as  that  for  obtaining 
the  greatest  outward  good,  or  avoiding  the  greatest  outward  ill  of  suffering, 
we  should  give  way  to  the  least  evil  of  sin.  This  is  but  a  policy  of  the 
flesh  to  take  away  the  sensibleness  of  evil,  that  so  those  checks  of  conscience 
and  repentance  for  sin,  which  is  oft  occasioned  thereby,  might  be  taken 
away ;  that  so  men  may  go  on  enjoying  a  stupid  happiness,  never  laying 
anything  to  heart,  nor  afflicting  their  souls,  until  their  consciences  awaken 
in  the  place  of  the  damned,  and  then  they  feel  that  grief  retiim  u^on  them 
for  ever,  which  they  laboured  to  put  away  when  it  might  have  been  season- 
able to  them. 

R  Vn.  I  have  stood  the  longer  upon  this,  because  Satan  and  his  instru- 
ments, by  bewitching  the  imagination  with  false  appearances,  misleadeth 
not  only  the  world,  but  troubleth  the  peace  of  men  *  taken  out  of  the  world,' 
James  i.  27,  1  John  iv.  5,  6,  whose  estate  is  laid  up  safe  in  Christ,  who, 
notwithstanding,  pass  their  few  days  here  in  an  uncomfortable,  wearisome, 
and  unnecessary  sadness  of  spirit,  being  kept  in  ignorance  of  their  happy 
condition  by  Satan's  juggling  and  their  own  mistakes,  and  so  come  to  heaven 
before  they  are  aware.  Some  again  pass  their  days  in  a  golden  dream,  and 
drop  into  hell  before  they  think  of  it.  But  it  is  far  better  to  dream  of  ill, 
and  when  we  awake  to  find  it  but  a  dream,  than  to  dream  of  some  great 
good,  and  when  we  awake  to  find  the  contrary. 

As  the  distemper  of  the  fancy — lasa  phantasia — disturbing  the  act  of 
reason,  oftentimes  breeds  madness  in  regard  of  civil  conversation ;  so  it 
breeds,  likewise,  spiritual  madness,  carrying  men  to  those  things,  which,  if 
they  were  in  their  right  wits,  they  would  utterly  abhor.  Therefore  we  can- 
not have  too  much  care  upon  what  we  fix  our  thoughts.  And  what  a  glo- 
rious discovery  is  there  of  the  excellencies  of  religion  that  would  even  ravish 
an  angel,  which  may  raise  up,  exercise,  and  fiU  our  hearts !  We  see  our 
fancy  hath  so  great  a  force  in  natural  conceptions,  that  it  oft  sets  a  mark 
and  impression  upon  that  which  is  conceived  in  the  womb.  So,  likewise, 
strong  and  holy  conceits  of  things,  having  a  divine  virtue  accompanying  ot 
them,  transform  the  soul,  and  breed  spiritual  impressions  answerable  to  our 
spiritual  apprehensions.  It  would  prevent  many  crosses,  if  we  would  con- 
ceive of  things  as  they  are.  When  trouble  of  mind,  or  sickness  of  body, 
and  death  itself  cometh,  what  will  remain  of  aU  that  greatness  which  filled 
our  fancies  before  ?  Then  we  can  judge  soberly,  and  speak  gravely  of 
things.  The  best  way  of  happiness,  is  not  to  multiply  honours  or  riches, 
&c.,  but  to  cure  our  conceits  of  things,  and  then  we  cannot  be  very  much 
cast  down  with  anything  that  befalls  us  here. 

Therefore,  when  anything  is  presented  to  our  souls,  which  we  see  is 
ready  to  work  upon  us,  we  should  ask  of  ourselves  upon  what  ground  we 
entertain  such  a  conceit,  whether  we  shall  have  the  same  judgment  after  we 
have  yielded  to  it  as  now  we  have  ?  and  whether  we  will  have  the  same 
judgment  of  it  in  sickness  and  death  and  at  the  day  of  reckoning  as  we  have 
for  the  present  ?  That  which  is  of  itself  evil,  is  always  so  at  one  time  as 
well  as  another.  If  the  time  will  come  when  we  shall  think  those  things  to 
be  vain,  which  now  we  are  so  eagerly  set  upon,  as  if  there  were  some  great 
good  in  them,  why  should  we  not  think  so  of  them  now,  whenas  the  reform- 
ing of  our  judgment  may  do  us  good,  rather  than  to  be  led  on  with  a 


THE  soul's  conflict.  191 

pleasing  error  until  that  time,  wherein  the  sight  of  our  error  will  fill 
our  hearts  with  horror  and  shame,  without  hope  of  ever  changing  our 
condition  ? 

Here,  therefore,  is  a  special  use  of  these  soliloquies,  to  awake  the  soul 
and  to  stir  up  reason  cast  asleep  by  Satan's  charms,  that  so  scattering  the 
clouds  through  which  things  seem  otherwise  than  they  are,  we  may  discern 
and  judge  of  things  according  to  their  true  and  constant  nature.  Demand 
of  thy  soul.  Shall  I  always  be  of  this  mind  ?  Will  not  the  time  come  when 
this  will  prove  bitterness  in  the  end  ?  Shall  I  redeem  a  short  contentment 
with  lasting  sorrow  ?  Is  my  Judge  of  my  mind  ?  Will  not  a  time  come  when 
all  things  shall  appear  as  they  are  ?     Is  this  according  to  the  rule  ?  &c. 

To  conclude,  therefore,  whereas  there  be  divers  principles  of  men's  ac- 
tions, as,  1,  Natural  inclination,  inclining  us  to  some  courses  more  than 
others  ;  2,  Custom,  which  is  another  nature  in  us  ;  3,  Imagination,  appre- 
hending things  upon  shallow  grounds,  from  whence  springs  aifectation,  where- 
by we  desire  glory  in  things  above  om'  own  strength  and  measure,  and  make 
show  of  that,  the  truth  whereof  is  wanting  in  us ;  4,  True  judgment,  discerning 
the  true  reasons  of  things ;  5,  Faith,  which  is  a  spiritual  principle  planted 
in  the  soul,  apprehending  things  above  reason,  and  raising  us  up  to  conceive 
of  all  things  as  God  hath  discovered  them.  Now  a  sound  Chi'istian  should 
not  be  lightly  led  with  those  first  common  grounds  of  natural  inclination, 
custom,  opinion,  &c.,  but  by  judgment  enlightened,  advanced,  and  guided 
by  faith.  And  we  must  take  heed  we  suffer  not  things  to  pass  suddenly 
from  imagination  to  affection,  without  asking  advice  of  our  judgment,  and 
faith  in  the  way,  whose  oifice  is  to  weigh  things  in  God's  balance,  and, 
thereupon,  to  accept  or  refuse  them. 


\  Chapter  XIV. — Of  help  by  others.     Of  true  comforters  and  their  graces. 
Method.     Ill  success. 

§  I.  But  because  we  are  subject  to  favour,  and  flatter  ourselves,  it  is  wis- 
dom  to  take  the  benefit  of  a  second  self,  that  is,  a  well  chosen  friend,  living 
or  dead,  books  I  mean,  which  will  speak  truly,  witnout  flattery,  of  our 
estates.  *  A  friend  is  made  for  the  time  of  adversity,'  Prov.  xvii.  17;  and  \^ 
two  are  better  than  one,  Jilccl.  iv.  y,  foi*,  by  this  tneans,  our  troubles  are 
divided,  and  so  more  easily  borne.  The  very  presence  of  a  true-hearted 
friend  yields  often  ease  to  om*  grief.  Of  all  friends,  those  that  by  office  are 
to  speak  a  word  to  a  weary  soul  are  most  to  be  regarded,  as  speaking  to  us 
in  Christ's  stead.  Oftentimes,  especially  in  our  own  case,  we  are  blinded 
and  benighted  with  passion,  and  then  the  judgment  of  a  friend  is  clearer. 
Loving  friends  have  a  threefold  privilege  :  •  1,  Their  advice  is  suitable,  and  -^ 
fit  to  our  present  occasion,  they  can  meet  with  our  grievance,  so  cannot 
books  so  well ;  2,  What  comes  from  a  hving  friend,  comes  lively,  as  helped  -^ 
by  his  Spirit ;  3,  In  regard  of  ourselves,  what  they  say  is  apprehended  with 
more  ease,  and  less  plodding  and  bent  of  mind.  There  is  scarce  anything 
wherein  we  see  God  more  in  favour  towards  us,  than  in  our  friends,  and 
their  seasonable  speeches,  our  hearts  being  naturally  very  false  and  willingly 
deceived.  God  often  gives  us  up  to  be  misled  by  men,  not  according  to  his, 
but  our  own  naughty  hearts.  As  men  are,  so  are  their  counsellors,  for  such 
they  will  have,  and  such  God  lets  them  have.  Men,  whose  wills  are  stronger 
than  their  wits,  who  are  wedded  to  their  own  ways,  are  more  pleased  to 
hear  that  which  complies  with  their  inclinations,  than  a  harsh  truth  which 


192  THE  soul's  conflict. 

crosses  them.  This  presages  ruin,  because  they  are  not  counselable. 
Wherefore  God  suffers  them  to  be  led  through  a  fool's  paradise  to  &  true 
■prison,  as  men  that  will  neither  hear  themselves  nor  others  who  would  do 
them  good  against  their  wills.  It  was  a  sign  God  would  destroy  Eli's  sons, 
when  they  would  hear  no  counsel,  1  Sam.  ii.  25.  God  fills  such  men  with 
their  own  ways,  Prov.  xiv.  14.  Men  in  great  place,  often  in  the  abundance 
of  all  things  else,  want  the  benefit  of  a  true  friend,  Ideo  amicus  deest  quia 
nihil  deest,  because,  under  pretence  of  sendee  of  them,  men  carry  their  own 
ends.  As  great  men*  flatter  themselves,  so  they  are  flattered  by  others, 
and  so  robbed  of  the  true  judgment  of  themselves.  Of  all  spiritual  judg- 
ments this  is  the  heaviest,  for  men  to  be  given  up  to  such  a  measure  of 
seLf-willness,  and  to  refuse  spmtual  balm  to  heal  them.  Usually  such 
'perish  without  remedy,'  Prov.  xxix.  1,  because  to  be  wilfully  miserable  is 
to  be  doubly  miserable,  for  it  adds  to  our  misery,  that  we  brought  it  will- 
ingly upon  ourselves. 

It  is  a  coui'se  that  will  have  a  blessing  attending  it,  for  friends  to  join  in 
league,  one  to  watch  over  another,  and  observe  each  other's  ways.  It  is  a 
usual  course  for  Christians  to  join  together  in  other  holy  duties,  as  hearing, 
receiving  of  the  sacrament,  prayer,  &c. ;  but  this  fruit  of  holy  communion 
which  ariseth  from  a  mutual  observing  one  another  is  much  wanting.  Whence 
it  is  that  so  many  droop,  so  many  are  so  imcheerful  in  the  ways  of  God,  and 
lie  groaning  under  the  burden  of  many  cares,  and  are  battered  with  so  many 
temptations,  &c.,  because  they  are  left  only  to  their  own  spirits.  What  an 
unworthy  thing  is  it  that  we  should  pity  a  beast  overloaden,  and  yet  take 
no  pity  of  a  brother !  (fj  whereas  there  is  no  living  member  of  Christ  but 
hath  spiritual  love  infused  into  him  and  some  ability  to  comfort  others. 
Dead  stones  in  an  arch  uphold'  one  another,  and  shall  not  living  ?  It  is  the 
work  of  an  angel  to  comfort ;  nay,  it  is  the  ofiice  of  the  Holy  Ghost  to  be 
a  Comforter,  not  only  immediately,  but  by  breathing  comfort  into  our  hearts, 
together  with  the  comfortable  words  of  others.  Thus  one  friend  becomes 
an  angel,  nay,  a  god,  to  another.  And  there  is  a  sweet  sight  of  God  in  the  face 
of  a  friend;  for  though  the  comfort  given  by  God's  messengers  be  ordinarily 
most  effectual,  as  the  blessing  of  parents,  who  are  in  God's  room,  is  more 
eflectual  than  the  blessing  of  others  upon  their  children,  yet  God  hath  pro- 
mised a  blessing  to  the  offices  of  communion  of  saints  performed  by  one 
private  man  towards  another.  Can  we  have  a  greater  encouragement  than, 
under  God,  to  be  gainer  of  a  soul,  "which  is  as  much  in  God's  esteem  as  if 
we  should  gain  a  world  ?  Spiritual  alms  are  the  best  alms.  Mercy  shewed 
to  the  souls  of  men  is  the  greatest  mercy,  and  wisdom  in  winning  of  souls 
is  the  greatest  wisdom  in  the  world,  because  the  soul  is  especially  the  man, 
upon  the  goodness  of  which  the  happiness  of  the  whole  man  depends.  What 
shining  and  flom-ishing  Christians  should  we  have  if  these  duties  were  per- 
formed !  As  we  have  a  portion  in  the  communion  of  saints,  so  we  should 
labour  to  have  humility  to  take  good,  and  wisdom  and  love  to  do  good.  A 
Christian  should  have  feeding  lips  and  a  healing  tongue.  The  leaves,  the 
very  words,  of  the  tree  of  righteousness  have  a  curing  virtue  in  them. 

Some  will  shew  a  great  deal  of  humanity  in  comforting  others,  but  little 
Christianity  ;  for  as  kind  men  they  will  utter  some  cheerful  words,  but  as 
Christians  they  want  wisdom  from  above  to  speak  a  gracious  word  in  season, 
Isa.  1.  4,  2  Tim.  iv.  2.  Nay,  some  there  are  who  hinder  the  saving  work- 
ing of  any  affliction  upon  the  hearts  of  others  by  unseasonable  and  un- 
Bavoury  discourses,  either  by  suggesting  false  remedies,  or  else  divertiiig 
*  '  Great  men  '  in  C,  is  simply  '  as  they.' 


I 


THE  soul's  conflict.  193 

men  to  false  contentments,  and  so  become  spiritual  traitors  rather  than 
friends,  taking  part  with  their  worst  enemies,  their  lusts  and  wills.  Happy 
is  he  that  in  his  way  to  heaven  meeteth  with  a  cheerful  and  skilful  guide 
and  fellow-traveller,  that  carrieth  cordials  with  him  against  all  faintings  of 
spirit.  It  is  a  part  of  our  wisdom  to  salvation  to  make  choice  of  such  a 
one  as  may  further  us  in  our  way.  An  indiiferency  for  any  company  shews  '^ 
^  dead  heart.  Where  the  life  of  gi-ace  is,  it  is  sensible  of  aU  advantages  and 
disadvantages.  How  many  have  been  refreshed  by  one  short,  apt,  savoury 
speech,  which  hath  begotten,  as  it  were,  new  spirits  in  them. 

In  ancient  times,  as  we  see  in  the  story  of  Job,  chap.  ii.  12,  it  was  the 
custom  of  friends  to  meet  together  to  comfort  those  that  were  in  misery, 
and  Job  takes  it  for  granted,  that  '  to  him  that  is  aillicted  pity  should  be 
shewed  from  his  friends,'  chap.  vi.  14.  For  besides  the  presence  of  a 
friend,  which  hath  some  influence  of  comfort  in  it,  1.  The  discovery  of  his 
loving  affection  hath  a  cherishing  sweetness  in  it.  2.  The  expression  of 
love  in  real  comforts  and  services,  by  supplying  any  outward  want  of  the 
party  troubled,  prevails  much.  Thus  Christ  made  way  for  his  comforts  to 
the  souls  of  men  by  shewing  outward  kindness  to  their  bodies.  Love,  with 
the  sensible  fruits  of  it,  prepareth  for  any  wholesome  counsel.  3.  After 
this,  wholesome  words  carry  a  special  cordial  virtue  with  them,  especially 
when  the  Spirit  of  God  in  the  affectionate  speaker  joins  with  the  word  of  com- 
fort, and  thereby  closeth  with  the  heart  of  a  troubled  patient.  When  all  these 
concentre  and  meet  together  in  one,  then  is  comfort  sealed  up  to  the  soul. 
The  child  in  Elizabeth's  womb  sprang  at  the  presence  and  salutation  of 
Mary,  Luke  i.  41.  The  speech  of  one  hearty  friend  cannot  but  revive  the  *^ 
spirits  of  anothar.  Sympathy  hath  a  strange  force,  as  we  see  in  the  strings  of 
an  instrument,  which  being  played  upon,  as  they  say,  the  strings  of  another 
instrument  are  also  moved  with  it.  After  love  hath  once  kindled  love,  then  y 
the  heart,  being  melted,  is  fit  to  receive  any  impression.  Unless  both  ^ 
pieces  of  the  iron  be  red  hot,  they  will  not  join  together.  Two  spirits  ' 
warmed  witk  the  same  heat  will  easily  solder  together. 

§  n.  In  him  that  shall  stay  the  mind  of  another  there  had  need  to  be  an 
excellent  temper  of  many  graces,  as,  1.  Knowledge  of  the  grievance,  to- 
gether with  wisdom  to  speak  a  word  in  season,  and  to  conceal  that  which 
may  set  the  cure  backwards.  2.  Faithfulness  with  liberty,  not  to  conceal 
anything  which  may  be  for  his  good,  though  against  present  liking.  The 
very  life  and  soul  of  friendship  stands  in  freedom,  tempered  with  wisdom 
and  faithfulness.  3.  Love  with  compassion  and  patience  to  bear  all,  and 
hope  all,  and  not  to  be  easily  provoked  by  the  waywardness  of  him  we  deal 
with.  Short-spirijaiLiaen  are  not  the  best  comforters.  God  himself  is  said 
to  '  bear  with  the  manners  of  his  people  in  the  wilderness,'  Acts  xiii.  18. 
It  is  one  thing  to  bear  with  a  wise  sweet  moderation  that  which  may  be  borne, 
and  another  thing  to  allow  or  approve  that  which  is  not  to  be  approved  at 
aU,  Non  est  idemferre,  si  quid  ferendum  non  est,  et  probare  si  quid  probandum 
non  est.  Where  these  graces  are  in  the  speaker,  and  apprehended  so  to  be 
by  the  person  distempered,  his  heart  will  soon  embrace  whatsoever  shall  be 
spoken  to  rectify  his  judgment  or  affection.  A  good  conceit  of  the  spirit  of 
the  speaker  is  of  as  much  force  to  prevail  as  his  words.  Words  especially 
prevail,  when  they  are  uttered  more  from  the  bowels  than  the  brain,  and 
from  our  own  experience,  which  made  even  Christ  himself  a  more  com- 
passionate High  Priest.  When  men  come  to  themselves  again  they  will  b« 
the  deepest  censurers  of  their  own  miscarriage. 

VOL.  L.  N 


194  THE  soul's  conflict. 

§  III.  Moreover  to  the  right  comforting  of  an  afflicted  person,  special  care 
must  be  had  of  discerning  the  true  ground  of  his  grievance ;  the  core  must 
be  searched  out.  If  the  grief  ariseth  from  outward  causes,  then  it  must  be 
carried  into  the  right  channel,  the  course  of  it  must  turn  another  way, 
as  in  stajdng  of  blood.  We  should  grieve  for  sin  in  the  first  place,  as 
being  the  evil  of  all  evils.  If  the  ground  be  sin,  then  it  must  be  drawn  to 
a  head,  from  a  confused  grief  to  some  more  particular  sin,  that  so  we  may 
strike  the  right  vein ;  but  if  we  find  the  spirit  much  cast  down  for  par- 
ticular sins,  then  comfort  is  presently  to  be  applied.  But  if  the  grief  be 
not  fully  ripe,  then,  as  we  use  to  help  nature  in  its  offers  to  purge,  by 
physic,  tiU  the  sick  matter  be  carried  away ;  so  when  conscience,  moved 
by  the  spirit,  begins  to  ease  itself  by  confession,  it  is  good  to  help  forward 
the  work  of  it,  till  we  find  the  heart  low  enough  for  comfort  to  be  laid  upon. 
When  Paul  found  the  jailor  cast  down  almost  as  low  as  hell,  he  stands  not 
now  upon  further  hammering,  and  preparing  of  him  for  mercy,  that  work 
was  done  already,  but  presently  stirs  him  up  to  '  believe  in  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,'  Acts  xvi.  31.  Here  being  a  fit  place  for  an  interpreter  to  declare 
unto  man  his  righteousness,  and  his  mercy  that  belongs  unto  him,  after  he 
hath  acknowledged  his  personal  and  particular  sins,  which  the  natural  guilt 
of  the  heart  is  extremely  backward  to  do,  and  yet  cannot  receive  any  sound 
peace  tiU  it  be  done.  If  signs  of  grace  be  discerned,  here  likewise  is  a  fit 
place  to  declare  unto  man  the  saving  work  of  gi'ace  in  his  heart,  which 
Satan  labours  to  hide  from  him.  Men  oft  are  not  able  to  read  their  own 
evidences  without  help. 

Incase  of  stifihess  and  standing  out,  it  is  fit  the  man  of  God,  1  Tim.  vi.  11 
and  2  Tim.  iii.  17,  should  take  some  authority  upon  him,  and  lay  a  charge  upon 
the  souls  of  men  in  the  name  of  Christ,  to  give  way  to  the  truth  of  Christ, 
and  to  forbear  putting  off  that  mercy  which  is  so  kindly  offered,  when  we 
judge  it  to  be  their  portion ;  which  course  will  be  successful  in  hearts  awed 
with  a  reverend  fear  of  grieving  God's  Spirit.  Sometimes  men  must  be 
dealt  roundly  withal,  as  David  here  deals  with  his  own  soul,  that  so  whilst 
we  ask  a  reason  of  their  dejection,  they  may  plainly  see  they  have  no  reason 
to  be  so  cast  down.  For  oftentimes  grievances  are  in-ational,  rising  from 
mistakes;  and  counsel,  bringing  into  the  soul  a  fresh  light,  dissolves  those 
gross  fogs,  and  setteth  the  soul  at  liberty.  What  grief  is  contracted  by 
false  reason,  is  by  true  reason  removed.*  Thus  it  pleaseth  God  to  humble 
men,  by  letting  them  see  in  what  need  they  stand  one  of  another,  that  so 
the  communion  of  saints  may  be  endeared.  Every  relation  wherein  we 
stand  towards  others,  are  so  many  bonds  and  sinews  whereby  one  member 
is  fitted  to  derive  comfort  to  another,  '  through  love  the  bond  of  perfection,' 
Col.  iii.  14 ;  all  must  be  done  in  this  sweet  afiection.  A  member  out  of 
joint  must  be  tenderly  set  in  again,  and  bound  up,  which  only  men  guided 
by  the  spirit  of  love  seasoned  with  discretion  are  fit  to  do.  They  are 
taught  of  God  to  do  what  they  should.  The  more  of  Christ  is  in  any  man, 
the  more  willingness  and  fitness  to  this  duty ;  to  which  this  should  en- 
courage us,  that  in  strengthening  others  we  strengthen  ourselves,  and  derive 
upon  ourselves  the  blessing  pronounced  on  those  that  '  consider  the  needy,' 
Ps.  xli.  1,  which  will  be  our  comfort  here  and  crown  hereafter,  that  God  I 
hath  honoured  us,  to  be  instruments  of  spiritual  good  to  others.  It  is  an  i 
injunction  to  'comfort  the  feeble-minded,'  1  Thes.  v.  14,  and  there  is  am 
heavy  imputation  on  those  that  '  comforted  not  the  weak,'  Ezek.  xxxiv.  4 ; 
when  men  will  not  own  men  in  trouble,  but  estrange  themselves  as  the  j 
*  '  Removed,'  is  in  B  and  C  '  altered.' 


i 


THE  soul's  conflict.  195 

herd  of  deer  forsakes  and  pushes  away*  the  wounded  deer  from  them. 
And  those  that  are  any  ways  cast  down,  must  stoop  to  those  ways  which 
God  hath  sanctified  to  convey  comfort ;  for  though  sometimes  the  Spirit  of 
God  immediately  comforts  the  soul,  which  is  the  sweetest,  yet  for  the  most 
part  the  '  Sun  of  righteousness  that  hath  healing  in  his  wings,'  Mai.  iv.  2, 
conveyeth  the  beams  of  his  comfort  by  the  help  of  others,  in  whom  he  will 
have  much  of  our  comfort  to  lie  hid;  and  for  this  very  end  it  pleaseth  God 
to  exercise  his  children,  and  ministers  especially,  with  trials  and  afilictions, 
that  so  they,  having  felt  what  a  troubled  spirit  is  in  themselves,  might  be 
able  to  comfort  others  in  their  distresses  with  the  same  comfort  wherewith 
they  have  been  comforted,  2  Cor.  vii.  7.  God  often  suspends  comfort  from 
us  to  drive  us  to  make  use  of  our  Christian  friends,  by  whom  he  purposeth 
to  do  us  good,  Si  illatas  molestias  lingua  dlcat,  a  conscientia  dolor  einanat, 
vulnera  enim  clausa  plus  cruciant. — Greg.  Oftentimes  the  very  opening 
of  men's  grievances  bringeth  ease,  without  any  further  working  upon  them. 
The  very  opening  of  a  vein  cools  the  blood.  If  God  in  the  state  of  inno- 
cency  thought  it  fit  man  should  have  a  helper,  if  God  thought  it  fit  to  send 
an  angel  to  comfort  Christ  in  his  agonies,  shall  any  man  think  the  comfort 
of  another  more  than  needs  ?  Satan  makes  every  aflliction,  by  reason  of 
our  corruption,  a  temptation  to  us,  whereupon  we  are  to  encounter  not 
only  with  our  own  corruptions,  but  with  om*  spiritual  wickednesses,  Eph. 
vi.  12  ;  and  need  we  not  then  that  others  should  join  forces  with  us  to  dis- 
cover the  temptation,  and  to  confinn  and  comfort  us  against  it  ?  For  so  reason 
joining  with  reason,  and  affection  with  afiection,  we  come  by  uniting  of 
strength  to  be  impregnable.  Satan  hath  most  advantage  in  soUtarines^ 
pid  thereupon  sets  upon  Christ  in  the  wilderness.  Mat,  iv.,  aad  uponEye 
Bin|yle^  (j-en.  iii..  and  it  added  to  the  plorv  of  Chriat's  victorv.  tha,t  he  nver- 
came  him  in  a  single  combat,  and  in  a  place  of  such  disadvantage.  Those 
that  will  be  alone,  at  such  times,  do  as  much  as  in  them  heth  to  tempt  the 
tempter  himself,  to  tempt  them.  The  preacher  gives  three  reasons  why 
'  two  are  better  than  one,'  Eccles.  iv.  9.  (^T^  Because  if  one  fall,  the  other 
may  lift  him  up!  As  that  which  is  stronger  shoreth  up  that  which  is 
TSTe  : 


weaker,  so  teeble  minds  are  raised  and  kept  up  by  the  stronger ;  nay,  often- 
times he  that  is  weaker  in  one  grace  is  stronger  in  another.  One  may  help 
by  his  experience  and  meekness  of  love,  that  needs  the  help  of  another  for 
knowledge.  (  2.;  If  two  lie  together,  one  may  warm  another  by  kindling  one 
another's  spirits.  Where  two  meet  together  upon  such  holy  grounds  and 
aims,  mere  (JErist  by  his  Spirit  makes  up  another,  and  this  threefold  cable 
who  shall  break  ?  Mat.  xviii.  20.  While  Joash  Hved,  Jehoiada  stood  up- 
right ;  while  Latimer  and  Ridley  lived,  they  kept  up  Cranmer  by  intercourse 
of  letters  and  otherwise,  from  entertaining  counsels  of  revolt.  The  disciples 
presently  upon  Chiist's  apprehension  fainted,  notwithstanding  he  laboured 
by  his  heavenly  doctrine  to  put  courage  and  comfort  into  them.  (^  If  any 
give  an  onset  upon  t.hp.Tn,  t.hgrfiia  two  to  withstand_it,  spiiTb  joming 
with  spirit ;  and  because  there  is  an  aii(|LiaintaLl(je  ufsphiis  as  well  as  of 
persons,  those  are  fittest  to  lay  open  our  minds  imto,  in  whom  upon  ex- 
perience of  their  fidelity  our  hearts  may  most  safely  rely.  Solatium  vita, 
habere  cui  pectus  aperias.f     We  lose  much  of  our  strength  in  the  loss  of  a 

*  '  Forsakes  and  pushes  away,'  in  B  and  C  '  Forsake  and  push  away,'  and  '  estrange 
themselves'  dropped. 

+  Ambrose.  The  reference  is  to  Ambrose  de  Off.  Min.  lib.  iii.  cap.  22,  and  is 
more  exactly  as  follows  : — '  Solatium  quippe  vitse  hujus  est,  ut  habeas  cui  pectus 
aperias  tuum.' — G. 


196  THE  soul's  conflict. 

true  friend ;  which  made  David  bemoan  the  loss  of  his  friend  Jonathan, 
'  Woe  is  me  for  thee,  my  brother  Jonathan ! '  2  Sam.  i.  20.  He  lost  a  piece 
of  himself,  by  losing  him  whom  his  heart  so  clave  unto.  St  Paul  accounted 
that  God  had  shewed  especial  mercy  to  him,  in  the  recovery  of  Epaphro- 
ditus,  Phil.  ii.  27. 

§  IV.  But  there  are  divers  miscarriages  in  those  that  axe  troubled, 
which  make  the  comfort  of  others  of  none  effect. 

1.  When  the  troubled  party  deals  not  directly,  but  doubleth  with  him  that 
is  to  help  him.  Some  are  ashamed  to  acknowledge  the  true  ground  of  their 
grievance,  pretending  sorrow  for  one  thing,  when  their  hearts  tell  them  it 
ariseth  from  another  :  like  the  lapwings,  which  make  greatest  noise  farthest 
from  their  nest,  because  they  would  not  have  it  _d^C0Yered.  This  deceit 
moved  our  blessed  SavioTaPT^ho  knew  what  was  in  the  hearts  of  men,  to 
fit  his  answers  many  times,  rather  to  the  man  than  to  the  matter. 

2.  Some  rely  too  much  upon  particular  gien.  Oh  if  they  had  such  a  one 
they  shoufd  do  well,  and  mislike  others,  fitter  perhaps  to  deal  with  them,  as 
having  more  thorough  knowledge  of  their  estates,  because  they  would  have 
their  disease  rather  covered  than  cured,  or  if  cured,  yet  with  soft  words, 
whereas  no  plaster  worketh  better  than  that  which  causes  smart.  Some 
out  of  mere  humorous  fondness  must  have  that  which  can  hardly  be  got,  or 
else  nothing  pleases  them.  Davidmust  needs  have  the  '  waters  of  Bethlehem,' 
2  Sam.  xxiii.  15,  when  others  were  nearer  hand.  And  oftentimes  when 
men  have  not  only  whom  they  desire,  but  such  also  who  are  fit  and  dexterous 
in  dealing  with  a  troubled  spirit,  yet  their  souls  feel  no  comfort,  because 
they  make  idols  of  men  ;  whereas  men  at  the  best  are  but  conduits  of  com- 
fort, and  such  as  God  freely  conveyeth  comfort  by,  taking  hberty  oft  to  deny 
comfort  by  them,  that  so  he  may  be  acknowledged  the  '  God  of  all  comfort,' 
2  Cor.  i.  3. 

3.  Some  delude  themselves,  by  thinking  it  sufficient  to  have  a  few  good 
words  spoken  to  them,  as  if  that  could  cure  theffl';  hotTegarding  to^appre- 
hend  the  same,  and  mingle  it  with  faith,  without  which,  good  words  lose 
their  working,  even  as  wholesome  physic  in  a  dead  stomach. 

Besides  miscarriages  in  comforting,  times  will  often  fall  out  in  our  lives, 
that  we  shaU  have  none  either  to  comfort  us,  or  to  be  comforted  by  us,  and 
then  what  will  become  of  us  unless  we  can  comfort  ourselves  ?  Men  must 
not  think  always  to  live  upon  alms,  but  lay  up  something  in  store  for  them- 
selves, and  provide  oil  for  their  own  lamps,  and  be  able  to  draw  out  some- 
thing from  the  treasury  of  their  own  hearts.  We  must  not  go  to  the  surgeon 
for  every  scratch.  No  wise  traveller  but  wiU  have  some  refreshing  waters 
about  him.  Again,  we  are  often  driven  to  retire  home  to  our  own  hearts, 
by  uncharitable  imputations  of  other  men.  Even  friends  sometimes  become 
miserable  comforters.  It  was  Job's  case,  chap.  ii. ;  his  friends  had  honest 
intentions  to  comfort  him,  but  erred  in  their  manner  of  dealing.  If  he  had 
found  no  more  comfort  by  reflecting  upon  his  own  sincerity,  than  he  received 
from  them,  who  laboured  to  take  it  from  him,  he  had  been  doubly  miserable. 
We  are  most  privy  to  our  own  intentions  and  aims,  whence  comfort  must 
be  fetched ;  let  others  speak  what  they  can  to  us,  if  our  own  hearts  speak 
not  with  them,  we  shall  receive  no  satisfaction.  Sometimes  it  may  fall  out, 
that  those  which  should  unloose  our  spirits  when  they  are  bound  up,  mis- 
take ;  the  key  misses  the  right  wards,  and  so  we  lie  boimd  still.  Opening 
of  our  estate  to  another  is  not  good  but  when  it  is  necessary ;  and  it  is 
not  necessary,  when  we  can  fetch  supply  fr-om  our  own  store.     God  would 


■^iM. 


THE  SOUIi's  CONFLICT.  197 

have  us  tender  of  our  reputations,  except  in  some  special  cases,  wherein  we 
are  to  give  glory  to  God,  Josh.  vii.  19,  by  a  free  and  full  confession.  Need- 
less discovery  of  ourselves  to  others,  makes  us  fear  the  conscience  of  another 
man,  as  privy  to  that  which  we  are  ashamed  he  should  be  privy  unto  ;  and 
it  is  neither  wisdom  nor  mercy  to  put  men  upon  the  rack  of  confession,  further 
than  they  can  have  no  ease  any  other  way.  For  by  this  means  we  raise  in 
them  a  jealousy  towards  us,  and  oft  without  cause,  which  weakeneth  and 
tainteth  that  love  which  should  unite  hearts  in  one. 

Chapter  XV. — Of  flying  to  God  in  disquiets  of  souls ;  eight  observations 

out  of  the  text. 

Qi(£st.  What  if  neither  the  speech  of  others  to  us,  nor  the  rebuke  of  our 
own  hearts,  wiU  quiet  the  soul  ?     Is  there  no  other  remedy  left  ? 

Am.  Yes ;  then  look  up  to  God,  the  father  and  fountain  of  comfort,  as 
David  doth  here ;  for  the  more  special  means  whereby  he  sought  to  recover 
himself  was  by  laying  a  charge  upon  his  soul  to  trast  in  God.  For  having 
let  his  soul  run  out  too  much,  he  begins  to  recollect  himself  again,  and 
resign  up  all  to  God. 

§  I.  Qiiest.  But  how  came  David  to  have  the  command  of  his  own  soul, 
so  as  to  take  it  off  from  grief,  and  to  place  it  upon  God  ?  Could  he  dispose 
of  his  own  heart  himself  ? 

Ans.  The  child  of  God  hath  SMnething  in  him  above  a  man ;  he  hath  the 
Spirit  of  God  to  guide  his  spirit,  ims  commana  oi  David  to  his  soul  was 
under  the  command  of  the  great  commander.  God  commands  David  to 
trust  in  him,  and  at  the  same  time  infuseth  strength  into  his  soul  by  think- 
ing of  God's  command,  and  trusting  to  God's  power,  to  command  itself  to 
trust  in  God  ;  so  that  this  command  is  not  only  by  authority,  but  by  vu'tue 
hkewise  of  God's  command.  As  the  inferior  orbs  move  as  they  are  moved 
by  a  higher,  so  David's  spirit  here  moves  as  it  is  moved  by  God's  Spirit, 
which  inwardly  spake  to  him  to  speak  to  himself. 

David,  in  speaking  thus  to  his  own  soul,  was,  as  every  true  Christian  is, 
a  prophet  and  an  instructor  to  himself;  it  is  but  as  if  inferior  officers  should 
charge  in  the  name  and  power  of  the  king.  God's  children  have  a  principle 
of  Ufe  in  them  from  the  Spirit  of  God,  by  which  they  command  themselves. 
To  give  charge  belongs  to  a  superior.  David  had  a  double  superior  above 
him,  his  own  spirit  as  sanctified,  and  God's  Spirit  guiding  that.  Our  spirits 
are  the  Spirit's  agents,  and  the  Holy  Spirit  is  God's  agent,  maintaining  his 
right  in  us.  As  God  hath  made  man  a  free  agent,  so  he  guides  him,  and 
preserves  that  free  manner  of  working  which  is  agreeable  to  man's  nature. 

By  this  it  appears  that  David's  moving  of  himself  did  not  hinder  the 
Spirit's  moving  of  him,  neither  did  the  Spirit's  moving  of  him  hinder  him 
from  moving  himself  in  a  free  manner;  for  the  Spirit  of  God  moveth 
according  to  our  principles,  it  openeth  our  understandings  to  see  that  it  is 
best  to  trust  in  God  ;  it  moveth  so  sweetly,  as  if  it  were  an  inbred  prin- 
ciple, and  aU  one  with  our  own  spirits.  If  we  should  hold  our  will  to  move 
itself,  and  not  to  be  moved  by  the  Spirit,  we  should  make  a  god  of  it,  whose 
property  is  to  move  other  things,  and  not  to  be  moved  by  any.* 

We  are  in  some  sort  lords  over  our  own  speeches  and  actions,  but  yet 
under  a  higher  lord.     David  was  willing  to  trust  in  God,  but  God  wrought 

*  Ergone  ita  liberi  esse  volunt,  ut  nee  Deum  volunt  habere  Dominum  ? — Aug. 
de  Spir.  et  Lit. 


198  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

that  will  in  him.  He  first  makes  our  will  good,  and  then  works  by  it.  It 
is  a  sacrilegious  liberty  that  will  acknowledge  no  dependence  upon  God. 
"We  are  wise  in  his  wisdom,  and  strong  in  his  strength,  who  saith,  '  With- 
out me  ye  can  do  nothing,'  John  xv.  5.  Both  the  bud  of  a  good  desire, 
and  the  blossom  of  a  good  resolution,  and  the  fruit  of  a  good  action,  all 
comes  from  God.  Indeed,  the  understanding  is  ours  whereby  we  know 
what  to  do,  and  the  will  is  ours  whereby  we  make  choice  of  what  is  best  to 
be  done ;  but  the  light  whereby  we  kiaow,  and  the  guidance  whereby  we 
choose,  that  is  from  a  higher  agent,  which  is  ready  to  flow  into  us  with 
present  fresh  supply,  when  by  virtue  of  former  strength  we  put  oiurselves 
forward  ia  obedience  to  God.*  Let  but  David  say  to  his  soul  being  charged 
of  God  to  trust,  I  charge  thee,  my  soul,  to  trust  in  him,  and  he  finds  a 
present  strength  enabling  to  it.  Therefore,  we  must  both  depend  upon  God 
as  the  first  mover,  and  withal  set  aU  the  iaferior  wheels  of  our  souls  agoing, 
according  as  the  Spirit  of  God  miaisters  motion  unto  us.  So  shall  we  be 
free  from  self-confidence,  and  likewise  from  neglecting  that  order  of  work- 
ing which  God  hath  established.  David  hearkened  what  the  Lord  said, 
before  he  said  anything  to  himself, — so  should  we.  God's  commands  tend 
to  this,  that  we  should  command  ourselves.  God,  and  the  minister  under 
God,  bid  us  trust  in  him,  but  all  is  to  no  purpose  tUl  grace  be  wrought  in 
the  soul,  whereby  it  bids  itself.  Our  speaking  to  others  doth  no  good,  tUl 
they,  by  entertaining  what  we  say,  speak  the  same  to  their  own  souls. 

In  this  charge  of  David  upon  his  own  soul,  we  may  see  divers  passages 
and  privileges  of  a  gracious  heart  in  trouble. 

,  §  II.  Ohs.  1.  As  1.  That  a  Christian,  when  he  is  beaten  out  of  all  other 
comforts,  yet  hath  a  God  to  run  unto.  A  wicked  man  beaten  out  of  earthly 
comforts,  is  as  a  naked  man  in  a  storm,  and  an  imarmed  man  in  the  field, 
or  as  a  ship  tossed  in  the  sea  without  an  anchor,  which  presently  dashes 
upon  rocks,  or  falleth  upon  quicksands  ;  but  a  Christian,  when  he  is  driven 
out  of  all  comforts  below,  nay,  when  God  seems  to  be  angry  with  him,  he 
can  appeal  from  God  angry  to  God  appeased,  he  can  wrestle  and  strive 
with  God  by  God's  own  strength,  fight  with  him  with  his  own  weapons,  and 
plead  with  God  by  his  own  arguments.  What  a  happy  estate  is  this  !  Who 
would  not  be  a  Chiistian,  if  it  were  but  for  this,  to  have  something  to  rely 
on  when  all  things  else  fail  ?  The  confusion  and  imquietness  which 
troubles  raise  in  the  soul  may  drive  it  from  resting  in  itself,  but  there  can 
never  be  any  true  peace  settled,  until  it  sees  and  resolves  what  to  stay  upon. 

§  in.  2.  We  see  here  that  there  is  a  sanctified  use  of  all  troubles  to  God's 
children.  First,  they  diive  them  out  of  tliemselves,  and  then  draw  tJiem 
nearer  to  God.  Crosses,  indeed,  of'themselves  estrange  us  more  from  God, 
but  by  an  overruling  work  of  the  Spirit  they  bring  us  nearer  to  him.  The 
Boul  of  itself  is  ready  to  misgive,  as  if  God  had  too  many  controversies  with 
it,  to  shew  any  favour  towards  it ;  and  Satan  helpeth.  Because  he  knows 
nothing  can  stand  and  prevail  against  God,  or  a  soul  that  reUeth  on  him, 
therefore  he  labours  to  breed  and  increase  an  everlasting  division  betwixt 
God  and  the  soul.  But  let  not  Chi'istians  muse  so  much  upon  their  trouble, 
but  see  whither  it  carries  them,  whether  it  brings  them  nearer  unto  God 
or  not.  It  is  a  never-failing  rule  of  discerning  a  man  to  be  in  the  state  of 
grace,  when  he  finds  every  condition  draw  him  nearer  to  God ;  for  thus  it 

*  Certum  est,  nos  velle  cum  volumus,  sed  ille  facit  ut  velimus. — Aug.  For  the 
thought,  not  the  words,  see  Oonf.,  Book  VII.,  iii.  5,  and  elsewhere  repeatedly.— G. 


THE  soul's  conflict.  199 

appears  that  such  love  God,  and  are  called  of  him,  unto  whom  *  all  things 
work  together  for  the  best,'  Rom.  viii.  28. 

§  rV.  3.  Again,  hence  we  see  that  the  Spirit  of  God  by  these  inward 
speeches  doth  awake  the  soul,  and  keep  it  in  a  holy  exercise,  by  stirring  up 
the  grace  of  faith  to  its  proper  function.  It  is  not  so  much  the  having  of 
grace,  as  grace  in  exercise,  that  preserves  the  soul.  Therefore,  we  should 
by  this  and  the  like  means  *  stir  up  the  grace  of  God  in  us,'  2  Tim.  i.  6, 
that  so  it  may  be  kept  a- working,  and  in  \agour  and  strength.  It  was 
David's  manner  to  awake  himself,  by  bidding  both  '  heart  and  hai-p  to 
awake,'  Ps.  Ivii.  8.  It  is  the  waking  Christian,  that  hath  his  wit  and  his 
grace  ready  about  him,  who  is  the  safe  Christian.  Grace  dormant,  without 
the  exercise,  doth  not  secure  us.  It  is  almost  all  one,  in  regard  of  present 
exigence,  for  grace  not  to  be  and  not  to  work.  The  soul  without  action  is 
like  an  instrument  not  played  upon,  or  like  a  ship  always  in  the  haven. 
Motion  is  a  preservative  of  the  pmity  of  things.  Even  life  itself  is  made 
more  lively  by  action.  The  Spirit  of  God,  whereby  his  children  are  led,  is 
compared  to  things  of  the  quickest  and  strongest  actions,  as  fire  and  wind, 
&c.  God  himself  is  a  pure  act,  always  in  acting ;  and  everything,  the 
nearer  it  comes  to  God,  the  more  it  hath  its  perfection  in  working.  The 
happiness  of  man  consists  chiefly  in  a  gracious  frame  of  spirit,  and  actions 
suitable  sweetly  issuing  therefrom.  The  very  rest  of  heavenly  bodies  is  in 
motion  in  their  proper  places.  By  this  stirring  up  the  grace  of  God  in  us, 
sparkles  come  to  be  flames,  and  all  graces  are  kept  bright.  Troubles  stir 
up  David ;  *  Da\id  being  stii-red,  stirs  up  himself. 

§  V.  4.  We  see  likewise  here  a  farther  use  of  soliloquies  or  speeches  to  our 
own  hearts.  When  the  soul  by  entering  into  itself  sees  itself  put  out  of 
order,  then  it  enjoins  this  duty  of  trusting  in  God  upon  it.  If  we  look  only 
on  ourselves,  and  not  tm-n  to  God,  the  worJi  ol  tne  soul  is  imperfect.  Then 
the  soul  worketh  as  it  should,  whenas  by  reflecting  on  itself,  it  gathers 
some  profitable  conclusion,  and  leaveth  itself  with  God.  David,  upon  re- 
flecting on  himself,  found  nothing  but  discouragement ;  but  when  he  looks 
upward  to  God,  there  he  finds  rest.  This  is  one  end  why  God  suflers  the 
soul  to  tire  and  beat  itself,  that,  finding  no  rest  in  itself,  it  might  seek  to 
him.  David  yields  not  so  much  to  his  passion  as  that  it  should  keep  him 
from  God.  Therefore,  let  no  man  truly  religious  pretend,  for  an  excuse, 
his  temper  or  provoking  occasions,  &c.,  for  grace  doth  raise  the  soul  above 
nature.  Grace  doth  not  only  stop  the  soul  in  an  evil  way,  but  carries  it  to 
a  contrary  good,  and  raiseth  it  up  to  God.  Though  holy  men  be  subject 
to  '  like  passions  with  others,'  James  v.  17,  as  it  is  said  of  Elias,  yet  they 
are  not  so  enthralled  to  them,  as  that  they  carry  them  whoUy  away  firom 
their  God ;  but  they  hear  a  voice  of  the  Spirit  within  them,  calling  them 
back  again  to  their  former  communion  with  God;  and  so  gi'ace  takes 
occasion,  even  from  sin,  to  exercise  itself. 

§  VI.  5.  Observe  further,  tbflt,  (Jlgmst  is  the  cause  of  all  disquiet.  The 
soul- suffers  itself  by  something  here  below  to  be  drawn  away  from  God,  but 
can  find  no  rest  till  it  return  to  him  again.  As  Noah's  dove  had  no  place 
to  set  her  foot  upon.  Gen.  viii.  11,  till  it  was  received  into  the  ark  from 
whence  it  came.  And  it  is  God's  mercy  to  us,  that  when  we  have  let  go 
our  hold  of  God,  we  should  find  nothing  but  trouble  and  unquietness  in  any- 
*  A  connective  '  and  '  in  C. 


200  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

thing  else,  that  so  we  might  remember  from  whence  we  are  fallen,  and 
return  home  again.  That  is  a  good  trouble  which  frees  us  from  the  gi'eatest 
•  trouble,  and  brings  with  it  the  most  comfortable  rest.  It  is  but  an  unquiet 
quiet,  and  a  restless  rest  which  is  out  of  God.  It  is  a  deep  spiritual  judg- 
ment for  a  man  to  find  too  much  rest  in  the  creature.  The  soul  that  hath 
had  a  saving  work  upon  it,  will  be  always  impatient  until  it  recovers  its 
former  sweetness  in  God.  After  God's  Spirit  hath  once  touched  the  soul, 
it  will  never  be  quiet  until  it  stands  pointed  God-ward. 

Ohj.  But  conscience  may  object,  upon  any  oflfence  is  God  ofiiended,  and 
therefore  not  to  be  trusted  ? 

Ans.  It  is  true,  where  faith  is  not  above  natural  conscience  ;  but  a  con- 
Bcience  '  sprinkled  with  the  blood  of  Christ,'  Heb.  x.  22,  is  not  scared  from 
God  by  its  infirmities  and  failings,  but  as  David  here  is  rather  stirred  up  to 
run  unto  God  by  his  distemper ;  and  it  had  been  a  greater  sin  than  his 
distemper  not  to  have  gone  unto  God.  Those  that  have  the  spirit  of  sons 
in  their  hearts,  run  not  further  from  God  after  they  have  a  little  strayed 
from  him  ;  but,  though  it  be  the  natui'e  of  sinful  passions  to  breed  grief  and 
Bhame,  yet  they  will  repair  to  God  again,  and  their  confidence  overcomes 
their  guilt,  so  well  are  they  acquainted  with  God's  gi-acious  disposition. 

Yet  we  see  here,  David  thinks  not  of  trusting  in  God,  till  fii'st  he  had 
done  justice  upon  his  own  soul,  in  rebuking  the  unruly  motions  thereof. 
Censure  for  sin  goeth  before  favour  in  pardoning  sin  or  boldness  to  ask  par- 
don of  God.  Those  that  love  God  must  hate  ill,  Ps.  xcvii.  10.  If  our 
consciences  condemn  us  of  allowing  any  sin,  we  cannot  have  boldness  with 
God,  who  is  light  and  can  abide  no  darkness,  and  '  greater  than  our  con- 
sciences,' 1  John  iii.  20, 

*^  §  VII.  6.  Moreover,  hence  we  see  it  f.s  nn  p^g.sy  thing  to  bring  God  and  the 
heart  together^.  David  here  as  he  often  checks  his  heart,  so  he  dotH~often 
"charge  his  heart.  Doubts  and  troubles  are  still  gathering  upon  him,  and 
his  faith  still  gathering  upon  them.  As  one  striving  to  get  the  haven,  is 
driven  back  by  the  waves,  but  recovering  himself  again,  gets  forward  stiU, 
and  after  often  beating  back,  at  length  obtains  the  wished  haven,  and  then 
is  at  rest,  so  much  ado  there  is  to  bring  the  soul  unto  God,  the  harbour  of 
true  comfort.  It  were  an  easy  thing  to  be  a  Christian,  if  religion  stood 
only  in  a  few  outward  works  and  duties,  but  to  take  the  soul  to  task,  and 
to  deal  roundly  with  our  own  hearts,  and  to  let  conscience  have  its  full 
work,  and  to  bring  the  soul  into  spiritual  subjection  unto  God,  this  is  not 
80  easy  a  matter,  because  the  soul  out  of  self-love  is  loath  to  enter  into 
itself,  lest  it  should  have  other  thoughts  of  itself  than  it  would  have.  David 
must  bid  his  soul  trust,  and  trust,  and  trust  again  before  it  will  yield.  One 
main  ground  of  this  difiiculty  is,  that  contrary  which  is  in  the  soul  by  reason 
of  contrary  prmciples.  The  soul  so  far  as  it  is  gracious  commands,  so  far 
as  it  is  rebeUious  resists,  which  di-ew  holy  Austin  to  a  kind  of  astonishment : 
'  The  soul  commands  the  body  and  it  yields,'  saith  he,  '  it  commands  itself, 
and  is  resisted  by  itself.  It  commands  the  hand  to  move,  and  it  moveth 
■with  such  an  unperceivable  quickness  that  you  can  discern  no  distance 
betwixt  the  command  and  the  motion.  Whence  comes  this  ?  but  because 
the  soul  perfectly  wUls  not,  and  perfectly  enjoins  not  that  which  is  good, 
and  so  far  forth  that  it  fully  wills  not,  so  far  it  holds  back.'  *     There  should 

*  Unde  hoc  monstrum  et  quare  istud  ? Non  ex  toto  vult,  non  ex  toto  im- 

perat,  in  tantum  non  fit  quod  imperat,  in  quantum  non  vult. — Augustine,  Confess., 
Book  VIII..  ix,  21.  ^  f       •       1 


THE  soul's  conflict.  201 

be  no  need  of  commanding  the  soul  if  it  were  perfect,  for  then  it  would  be 
of  itself,  what  it  no'.v  commandeth.  If  David  had  gotten  his  soul  at  perfect 
freedom  at  the  first,  he  needed  not  have  repeated  his  charge  so  often  upon 
it.  But  the  soul  naturally  sinks  downward,  and  therefore  had  need  often 
to  be  wound  up. 

§  Vin.  7.  we  snould  therefore  labour  to  bring  our  souls,  as  David  doth 
here,  to  a  firm  and  peremptory  resolution,  and  not  stand  wavering,  and  as  it 
were  equally  balanced  betwixt  God  and  other  things  ;  but  enforce  our  souls. 
We  shall  get  httle  ground  of  infidelity  else.  Drive  your  souls,  therefore,  to 
this  issue,  either  to  z'ely  upon  God,  or  else  to  yield  up  itself  to  the  present 
gi'ievance.  If  by  yielding,  it  resolves  to  be  miserable,  there's  an  end,  but 
if  it  desires  rest,  then  let  it  resolve  upon  this  only  way,  to  trust  in  God. 
And  well  may  the  soul  so  resolve,  because  in  God  there  are  grounds  of 
quieting  the  soul,  above  all  that  may  unsettle  it ;  in  him  there  is  both  worth 
to  satisfy,  and  strength  to  support  the  soul.  The  best  way  to  maintain 
inward  peace,  is  to  settle  and  fix  our  thoughts  upon  that  which  will  make 
us  better,  till  we  found  our  hearts  warmed  and  wrought  upon  thereby,  and 
then,  as  the  prophet  speaks,  '  God  wiU  keep  us  in  peace,  peace,'  that 
is,  '  in  perfect  and  abundant  peace,'  Isa.  xxvi.  3.  This  resolution  stayed 
Job,  that  though  God  should  kill  him,  yet  he  resolved  '  to  trust  in  him,'  Job 
xiii.  15.  Answerable  to  our  resolution  is  owe  peace,  the  more  resolution 
the  more  peace.  Irresolution  of  itself,  without  any  grievance,  is  fuU  of 
disquiet.  It  is  an  unsafe  thing  always  to  begin  to  live,  to  be  always  cheapen- 
ing and  paltering  with  God ;  come  to  this  point  once,  trust  God  I  ought, 
therefore,  trust  God  I  wiU,  come  what  may  or  will. 

And  it  is  good  to  renew  our  resolutions  again  and  again  :  for  every  new 
resolution  brings  the  soul  closer  to  God,  and  gets  further  in  him,  and  brings 
fresh  strength  from  him ;  which,  if  we  neglect,  our  corruption  joining  with 
outward  hindrances  will  carry  us  further  and  further  backward,  and  this 
will  double,  yea  multiply  our  trouble  and  grief  to  recover  ourselves  again. 
We  have  both  wind  and  tide  against  us,  we  are  going  up  the  hill,  and,  there- 
fore, had  need  to  arm  ourselves  with  resolution.  Since  the  fall,  the  motion 
of  the  soul  upward,  as  of  heavy  bodies,  is  violent,  in  regard  of  corruption 
which  weighs  it  downward,  and,  therefore,  aU  enforcement  is  little  enough. 
Oppose,  therefore,  with  David,  an  invincible  resolution,  and  then  doubt  not 
of  prevailing.  If  we  resolve  in  God's  power  and  not  our  own,  and  be 
*  strong  in  the  Lord,'  Eph.  vi.  10,  and  not  in  ourselves,  then  it  matters  not 
what  om-  troubles  or  temptations  be  either  from  within,  or  without,  for  trust 
in  God  at  length  will  triumph. 

Here  is  a  great  mercy,  that  when  David  had  a  little  let  go  his  hold  of 
God,  yet  God  would  not  let  go  his  hold  of  him,  but  by  a  spirit  of  faith 
draws  him  back  again  to  himself.  God  turns  us  unto  him,  and  then  we 
return.  '  Turn  us  again,'  saith  the  psahnist,  '  cause  thy  face  to  shine  upon 
us,  and  we  shall  be  saved,'  Ps.  Ixxx.  19.  When  the  soul  leaves  God  once, 
it  loses  its  way  and  itself;  and  never  returns  till  God  recalls  it  again. 
Jnimus  ceger  semper  errat.  If  moral  principles,  cherished  and  strengthened 
by  good  education,  will  enable  the  soul  against  vicious  inclinations,  so  that, 
though  some  influence  of  the  heavens  work  upon  the  air,  and  the  air  upon 
the  spirits,  and  the  spirits  upon  the  humom-s,  and  these  incline  the  temper, 
and  that  inclines  the  soul  of  a  man  such  and  such  ways,  yet  breeding  in 
the  refineder  sort  of  civil  persons  will  much  prevail  to  draw  them  another 
way.     What,  then,  may  we  think  of  this  powerful  grace  of  faith  which  is 


202  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

altogether  supernatural  ?  Will  not  this  carry  the  soul  above  all  natural 
inclinations  whatsoever,  though  strengthened  by  outward  occasions,  if  we 
resolve  to  put  it  to  it  ?  David  was  a  king  of  other  men,  but  here  he  shews 
that  he  was  a  king  of  himself.  What  benefit  is  it  for  a  man  to  be  ruler 
over  all  the  world,  and  yet  remain  a  slave  to  himself  ? 

§  IX.  8.  Again,  David  here  doth  not  only  resolve,  but  presently  takes  up 
his  soul,  before  it  strayed  too  far  from  God.  The  further  and  thejongerjthe 
Boul  wanders_frnm  QnjJiJJTjLni^P-  it  entangles  itself,  and  the  thickerS^- 
ness  wiU  cover  the  soul,  yea,  the  loather  it  ia  to  come  to  God  again,  being 
^gham6d"t?rlook  G^^jn_the__face  jiter discontinuing  of  acquaintance  with 
him ;  nay,  the  stronger  the  league  grows  betwixt  sin  and  thesoul,  and  the 
more  ther6  growetn  a  kmd^oT  suitableness  betwixt  the  souTand  sin^  Too 
long  giving  way  to  base  thoughts  and  affections,  discovers  too  much  com- 
placency and  liking  of  sin.  If  we  once  give  way,  a  little  grief  wiU  turn  into 
bitter  sorrow,  and  that  into  a  settled  pensiveness  and  heaviness  of  spirit ; 
fear  will  grow  into  astonishment,  and  discouragement  into  despair.  If  ever 
we  mean  to  trust  God,  why  not  now?  How  many  are  taken  away  in 
their  offers  and  essays,  before  they  have  prepared  their  hearts  to  cleave 
imto  God !  The  sooner  we  give  up  ourselves  to  the  Lord,  the  sooner  we 
know  upon  what  terms  we  stand,  and  the  sooner  we  provide  for  our  best 
security,  and  have  not  our  gi'ounds  of  comfort  to  seek  when  we  shall  stand 
most  in  need  of  them.  Time  wiU  salve  up  grief  in  the  meanest  of  men ; 
reason,  in  those  that  will  suffer  themselves  to  be  ruled  thereby,  wiU  cure, 
or  at  least  stay  the  fits  of  it,  sooner ;  but  faith,  if  we  stir  it  up,  wiU  give  our 
souls  no  rest,  until  it  hath  brought  us  to  our  true  rest,  that  is,  to  God. 
Therefore  we  should  press  the  heart  forward  to  God  presently,  that  Satan 
make  not  the  rent  gi'eater. 

§  X.  9.  Lastly,  here  we  see,  that  though  the  soul  be  overborne  by  passion 
for  a  time,  yet  if  grace  hath  once  truly  seasoned  it,  it  will  work  itself  into  free- 
dom again.  Grace,  as  oU,  will  be  above.  The  eye  when  any  dust  falls  into 
it,  is  not  more  tender  and  unquiet,  till  it  be  wrought  out  again,  than  a 
gracious  soul  is,  being  once  troubled.  The  spirit,  as  a  spring,  will  be  cleans- 
ing of  itseff  more  and  more.  Whereas  the  heart  of  a  carnal  man  is  like  a 
standing  pool,  whatsoever  is  cast  into  it,  there  it  rests.  Trouble  and  dis- 
quietness  in  him  are  in  their  proper  place.  It  is  proper  for  the  sea  to  rage 
and  cast  up  dirt.  God  hath  set  it  down  for  an  eternal  rule,  that  vexation 
and  sin  shall  be  inseparable.  Happiness  and  rest  were  severed  from  sin  in 
heaven  when  the  angels  feU,  and  in  paradise  when  Adam  fell.  Gen.  iii.,  and 
will  remain  for  ever  separated,  until  the  breach  be  made  up  by  faith  in 
Christ.  Jmsisti  Domine,  et  sic  est,  ut  omnis  inordinatus  affectus  sibi  sit  poena. 
—Aug. 


Chapter  XYI. — Of  trust  in  God  •  jirmrn^sj^  it ;  especially  his  providence. 

But  to  come  nearer  to  the  unfolding  of  this  trust  in  God,  which  David 
useth  here  as  a  remedy  against  all  distempers.  Howsoever  confidence  and 
trust  be  an  affection  of  nature,  yet  by  the  Spirit's  sanctifying  and  carrying 
it  to  the  right  object,  it  becomes  a  grace  of  wonderful  use.  In  the  things 
of  this  life,  usually  he  that  hopes  most  is  the  most  unwise  man,  he  being 
most  deceived  that  hopes  most,  because  he  trusts  in  that  which  is  uncertain; 


«L 


THE  soul's  conflict.  203 

and  therefore  deceitful  hope  is  counted  but  the  dream  of  a  waking  man. 
But  in  religion  it  is  far  otherwise ;  here  hope  is  the  main  supporting 
grace  of  the  soul,  springing  from  faith  in  the  promises  of  God.  aovti 

Trust  and  tiope  are  otten  taken  in  the  same  sense,  though  a  distinction  -f  ' 
betwixt  them  hath  sometimes  its  use.  Faith  looks  to  the  word  promising, 
hope  to  the  thing  promised  in  the  word  ;  faith  looks  to  the  authority  ot  the 
pjpmiser,  hope  especiallytu  the  guudness  of  the  promise  7^BLrEE~l6oks  Tipon 
things  as  present,  hope  as  to  come  herealter.  (iddTs^ffie^rst  truth  ~is 
that  which  faith  rehes  on  ;  but  God  as  the  chief  good  is  that  which  hope 
rests  on^  Trust  or  confidence  is  nothing  else  but  the  strength  of  hope.  "  If 
the  thing  hoped  for  be  deferred,  then  of  necessity  it  enforces  waiting,  and 
waiting  is  nothing  else  but  hope  and  trust  lengthened.  [^ 

Howsoever  there  may  be  use  of  these  and  such  Hke  distinctions,  yet 
usually  they  are  taken  promiscuously,  especially  in  the  Old  Testament. 
The  nature  and  use  of  faith  is  set  out  by  terms  of  staying,  resting,  leaning, 
rolling  om'selves  upon  God,  &c.,  which  come  all  to  one,  and  therefore  we 
forbear  any  further  curious  distinction. 

Now,  seeing  trusting  in  God  is  a  remedy  against  all  distempers,  it  is  neces- 
sary that  we  should  bring  the  object  and  the  act,  God  and  the  soul,  together; 
for  eftecting  of  which  it  is  good  to  know  something  concerning  God  and  some- 
thing concerning  trust.  God  only  is  the  fit  object  of  trust.  He  hath  all  the 
properties  of  that  which  shouldTTSt)  IniyLed  on.  A.  man  can  be  in  no  condition 
wherein  God  is  at  a  loss  and  cannot  help  him.  If  comforts  be  wanting,  he 
can  create  comforts,  not  only  out  of  nothing,  but  out  of  discomforts.  He 
made  the  whale  that  swallowed  up  Jonah  a  means  to  bring  him  to  the  shore, 
Jonah  i.  17.  The  sea  was  a  wall  to  the  Israehtes  on  both  sides,  Exod. 
xiv.  22.  The  devouring  flames  were  a  great  refreshing  to  the  three  chil- 
dren in  the  fiery  furnace,  Dan.  iii.  That  trouble  which  we  think  will  swallow:  ^ 
Ug  up,  may  be  a  means  to  bring  us  to  our  haven ;  '  so  mighty  is  God  in 
power,  and  so  excellent  m  woriang,'  isa.  xxvm.  29.  God  then,  and  God 
only,  is  a  fit  foundation  for  the  soul  to  build  itself  upon,  for  the  firmer  the 
foundation  is,  the  stronger  wiU  the  building  be  ;  therefore  those  that  will 
build  high  must  dig  deep.  The  higher  the  tree  riseth,  the  deeper  the  root 
spreadeth  and  fasteneth  itself  below.  So  it  is  in  faith  :  if  the  foundation 
thereof  be  not  fii-m,  the  soul  cannot  build  itself  strongly  upon  it.  Faith  hath 
a  double  principle  to  build  on,  either  a  principle  of  being,  or  a  principle  of 
knowing.  The  principle  of  being  is  God  himself,  the  principle  of  knowing 
is  God's  word,  whereby  God  cometh  forth  '  out  of  that  hidden  light  which 
none  can  attain  unto,'  1  Tim.  vi.  16,  and  discovereth  his  meaning  towards 
us  for  our  good. 

This  then  must,  1,  be  supposed  for  a  ground,  that  there  is  a  God^  and 
that  God  is,  that  is,  hath  a  full  and  eternal  being,  and  giveth  a  being,  and 
an  order  of  being,  to  all  things  else.  Some  things  have  only  a  being,  some 
things  life  and  being,  some  things  sense,  &c.,  and  some  things  have  a  more 
excellent  being,  including  all  the  former,  as  the  being  of  creatures  endued 
with  reason.  If  God  had  not  a  being,  nothing  else  could  be.  In  things 
subordinate  one  to  another,  take  away  the  first,  and  you  take  away  aU  the 
rest.  Therefore  this  proposition,  God  is,  is  the  first  truth  of  all ;  and  if 
this  were  not,  nothing  else  should  be,  as  we  see  if  the  heavenly  bodies  do 
not  move,  there  is  no  motion  here  below. 

2.  In  the  divine  nature  or  being,  there  is  a  subsisting  of  three  persons, 
every  one  so  set  out  unto  us,  as  fitted  for  us  to  trust  in  ;  theJEaihfir_as  a  ij  ^ 
Creator,  the  Son  as  a  Itedeemer.  the  Holy  Ci]\Qf\\  as  a  C.nmfnHAr^  and  all  U 


204  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

this  is  in  reference  to  us.  God  in  the  first  person  hath  decreed  the  great 
work  of  our  salvation,  and  all  things  tending  to  the  accomplishment  of  it. 
■  God  in  the  second  person  hath  exactly  and  fully  answered  that  decree  and 
plot,  in  the  work  of  our  redemption.  God  in  the  third  person  discovers 
and  applies  all  unto  us,  and  fits  us  for  communion  with  the  Father  and  the 
Son,  from  whom  he  proceeds. 

3.  God  cannot  be  comfortably  thought  upon  out  of  Christ  our  Mediator, 
in  whom  he  was  '  reconciling  the  world  to  himself,'  1  Cor.  v.  19,  as  being 
a  friend  both  to  God  and  us,  and  therefore  fit  to  briug  God  and  the  soul 
together,  being  a  middle  person  in  the  Trinity.  In  Christ,  God's  nature 
becomes  lovely  to  us,  and  ours  to  God ;  otherwise  there  is  an  utter  enmity 
betwixt  his  pure  and  our  impure  nature.  Christ  hath  made  up  the  vast 
gulf  between  God  and  us.  There  is  nothing  more  terrible  to  thiak  on, 
than  an  absolute  God  out  of  Christ. 

—4.  Therefore,  for  the  better  drawing  of  us  to  trust  in  God,  we  must 
conceive  of  him  under  the  sweet  relation  of  a  Father.  Grod's  nature  is 
fatherly  now  unto  us,  and  therefore  lovely. 

5.  And  tor  further  strengthening  our  faith  it  is  needful  to  consider  what 
excellencies  the  Scripture  giveth  unto  God,  answerable  to  aU  our  necessities. 
What  sweet  names  God  is  pleased  to  be  known  unto  us  by  for  our  comfort, 
'  as  a  merciful,  gracious,  long-sufiering  God,'  &c.  Exod.  xxxiv.  6. 

When  Moses  desired  to  see  the  glory  of  God,  God  thus  manifested  him- 
self, in  the  way  of  goodness  :  '  I  will  make  all  my  goodness  pass  before 
thee,'  Exod.  xxxiii.  16. 

Whatsoever  is  good  in  the  creature  is  first  in  God  as  afountain  ;  and  it 
is  in  God  in  a  more  eminent  manner  and  fuller  measure!  Ail  grace  and 
holiness,  all  sweetness  of  afiection,  aU  power  and  wisdom,  &c.  as  it  is  in 
him,  so  it  is  from  him  :  and  we  come  to  conceive  these  properties  to  be  in 
God,  1,  by  feeling  the  comfort  and  power  of  them  in  ourselves  ;  2,  by 
observing  these  things  in  their  measure  to  be  in  the  best  of  the  creatures, 
whence  we  arise  to  take  notice  of  what  grace  and  what  love,  what  strength 
and  wisdom,  &c.,  is  in  God,  by  the  beams  of  these  which  we  see  in  his 
creature,  with  adding  in  our  thoughts  fulness  peculiar  to  God,  and  abstract- 
ing imperfections  incident  to  the  creature.  For  that  is  in  God  in  the 
highest  degree,  the  sparkles  whereof  is  but  in  us. 

6.  TVifl|-pfnrp  it.  I's^  fit,  that,  imto-  all  other  eminencies  in  God,  we  should 
strengthen  our  faith  by  considering  those  glorious  singularities,  which  are 
altogether  incommunicable  to  the  creatui'e,  and  which  gives  strength  to  his 
other  properties,  as  that  God  is  not  only  gracious  and  loving,  powerful, 
wise,  &c.,  but  that  he  is  infinitely,  eternally,  and  unchangeably  so.  All 
which  are  comprised  in  and  drawn  from  that  one  name  Jehovah,  as  being 
of  himself,  and  giving  a  being  to  all  things  else,  of  nothing ;  and  able, 
when  it  pleaseth  him,  to  turn  all  things  to  nothing  again. 

7.  As  God  is  thus,  so  he  makes  it  good  by  answerable  actions  and 
dealing  towards  us,  by  his  continual  providence,  the  consideration  whereof 
is  a  great  stay  to  our  faith ;  for  by  this  providence  God  makes  use  of  all 
his  former  excellencies  for  his  people's  good,  for  the  more  comfortable  ap- 
prehension of  which,  it  is  good  to  know  that  God's  providence  is  extended 
as  far  as  his  creation.  Every  creature,  in  every  element  and  place  whatso- 
ever, receiveth  a  powerful  influence  from  God,  who  doth  what  pleaseth  him, 
both  in  heaven  and  earth,  in  the  sea,  and  all  places.  But  we  must  know 
God  doth  not  put  things  into  a  frame,  and  then  leave  them  to  their  own 
motion,  as  we  do  clocks,  after  we  have  once  set  them  right,  and  ships,  after 


THE  soul's  conflict.  205 

we  have  once  built  them,  commit  them  to  wind  and  waves ;  but  as  he  made  all 
things,  and  knows  all  things,  so,  by  a  continued  kind  of  creation,  he  preserves 
aU  things  in  their  being  and  working,  and  governs  them  in  their  ends.  He  ia 
the  first  mover  that  sets  aU  the  wheels  of  the  creature  aworking.  One  wheel 
may  move  another,  but  all  are  moved  by  the  first.  If  God  moves  not,  the 
clock  of  the  creature  stands.  If  God  should  not  uphold  things,  they  would 
presently  fall  to  nothing,  from  whence  they  came,  K  God  should  not  guide 
things,  Satan's  maHce,  and  man's  weakness,  would  soon  bring  all  to  a  con- 
fusion. If  God  did  not  rule  the  great  family  of  the  world,  all  would  break 
and  fall  to  pieces,  whereas  the  wise  providence  of  God  keepeth  everything 
on  its  right  hinges.  All  things  stand  in  obedience  to  this  providence  of 
God,  and  nothing  can  withdraw  itself  from  under  it.  If  the  creature  with- 
draw itself  from  one  order  of  providence,  it  falls  into  another.  If  man,  the 
most  unruly  and  disordered  creature  of  all,  withdraw  himself  from  God's 
gracious  government  of  him  to  happiness,  he  will  soon  fall  under  God's 
just  government  of  him  to  deserved  misery.  If  he  shakes  ofi"  God's  sweet 
yoke,  he  puts  himself  under  Satan's  heavy  yoke,  who,  as  God's  executioner, 
hardens  him  to  destruction.  And  so,  whilst  he  rushes  against  God's  wiU, 
he  fulfils  it ;  and  whilst  he  will  not  willingly  do  God's  will,  God's  will  is 
done  upon  him  against  his  will. 

The  most  casual  things  fall  under  providence,  yea,  the  most  disordered 
thing  in  the  world,  sin,  and,  of  sins  the  most  horrible  that  ever  the  sun 
beheld,  the  *  crucifying  of  the  Lord  of  life,'  Acts  iii.  15,  was  guided  by  a 
hand  of  providence  to  the  greatest  good.  For  that  which  is  casual  in  re- 
gard of  a  second  cause,  is  not  so  in  regard  of  the  first,  whose  providence  is 
most  clearly  seen  in  casual  events  that  fall  out  by  accident,  for  in  these  the 
efiect  cannot  be  ascribed  to  the  next  cause.  God  is  said  to  kill  him  who 
was  unwarily  slain  by  the  falling  of  an  axe  or  some  instrument  of  death, 
Deut.  xix.  5. 

And  though  man  hath  a  freedom  in  working,  and  of  all  men  the  hearts 
of  kings  are  most  free,  yet  even  these  are  '  guided  by  an  overruling  power,' 
Prov.  xxi.  1,  as  the  rivers  of  water  are  carried  in  their  channels  whither 
skilful  men  hst  to  derive  them. 

For  settling  of  our  faith  the  more,  God  taketh  liberty  in  using  weak 
means  to  great  purposes,  and  setting  aside  more  likely  and  able  means  ; 
yea,  sometimes  he  altogether  disableth  the  greatest  means,  and  worketh 
often  by  no  means  at  aU.  It  is  not  for  want  of  power  in  God,  but  from 
abundance  and  multiplying  of  his  goodness  that  he  useth  any  means  at  all. 
There  is  nothing  that  he  doth  by  means  but  he  is  able  to  do  without  means. 

Nay,  God  often  bringeth  his  will  to  pass  by  crossing  the  course  and 
stream  of  means,  to  shew  his  own  sovereignty  and  to  exercise  our  depend- 
ence, and  maketh  his  very  enemies  the  accomplishers  of  his  own  will,  and 
so  to  bring  about  that  which  they  oppose  most.  Hence  it  is  that  we  be- 
lieve under  hope  against  hope,  Ps.  cxxxv.  6. 

But  we  must  know,  God's  manner  of  guiding  things  is  without  pre- 
judice to  the  proper  working  of  the  things  themselves.  He  guideth  them 
sweetly  according  to  the  instincts  he  hath  put  into  them ;  for, 

1.  He  furnishes  creatures  with  a  virtue  and  power  to  work,  and  likewise 
with  a  manner  of  working  suitable  to  their  own  nature  ;  as  it  is  proper  for 
a  man,  when  he  works,  to  work  with  freedom,  and  other  creatures  by 
natural  instinct,  &c. 

2.  God  maintaineth  both  the  power  and  manner  of  working,  and  per- 
fecteth  and  accompUsheth  the  same  by  acting  of  it,  being  nearer  to  us  in 


206  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT.  .  '  '" 

all  we  do  than  we  are  to  ourselves,  Intimior  intimo  nostra.  8.  He  applies 
and  stirs  up  our  abilities  and  actions  to  this  or  that  particular  as  he  seeth 
best.  4.  He  suspends  or  removes  the  hindrances  of  all  actions,  and  so 
powerfully,  wisely,  and  sweetly  orders  them  to  his  own  ends.  When  any 
evil  is  intended,  God  either  puts  bars  and  lets  to  the  execution  of  it, 
or  else  limiteth  and  boundeth  the  same,  both  in  regard  of  time  and 
measure,  so  that  our  enemies  either  shall  not  do  the  evil  at  all,  or  else 
not  so  long  a  time  or  not  in  such  a  height  of  mischief  as  their  maUce  would 
carry  them  to.  The  rod  of  the  wicked  may  light  upon  the  back  of  the 
righteous,  Ps.  cxxv.  3,  but  it  shall  not  rest  there.  God  knows  how  to  take 
our  enemies  oflP,  sometimes  by  changing  or  stopping  their  wills,  by  offering 
considerations  of  some  good  or  ill,  danger  or  profit,  to  them ;  sometimes 
by  taking  away  and  weakening  all  their  strength,  or  else  by  opposing  an 
equal  or  greater  strength  against  it.  All  the  strength  our  enemies  have 
rests  in  God,  who,  if  he  denies  concourse  and  influence,  the  arm  of  their 
power,  as  Jeroboam's,  when  he  stretched  it  out  against  the  prophet,  shrinks 
up  presently. 

God  is  not  only  the  cause  of  things  and  actions,  but  the  cause,  likewise, 
of  the  cessation  of  them,  why  they  fall  not  out  at  aU.  God  is  the  cause 
why  thmgs  are" not,  as  well  as  why  ihey  are.  Pews  est  prima  causa  cujxis- 
cunque  non  esse.  The  cause  why  men  favour  us  not,  or,  when  they  do  favour 
us,  want  present  wisdom  and  ability  to  help  us,  is  from  God's  withdrawing 
the  concurrence  of  his  Hght  and  strength  from  them.  If  a  skUful  physician 
doth  us  no  good,  it  is  because  it  pleaseth  God  to  hide  the  right  way  of 
curing  at  that  time  from  him.  Which  should  move  us  to  see  God  in  all 
that  befalls  us,  who  hath  sufficient  reason,  as  to  do  what  he  doth,  so  not  to 
do  what  he  doth  not,  to  hinder  as  well  as  to  give  way. 

The  God  of  spirits  hath  an  influence  into  the  spirits  of  men,  into  the 
principles  and  springs  of  all  actions ;  otherwise  he  could  not  so  certainly 
foretell  things  to  come.  God  had  a  work  in  Absalom's  heart  in  that  he 
refused  the  best  counsel.  There  is  nothing  independent  of  him  who  is  the 
mover  of  all  things,  and  himself  unmoveable. 

Nothing  so  high,  that  is  above  his  providence  ;  nothing  so  low,  that  is 
beneath  it ;  nothing  so  large,  but  is  bounded  by  it ;  nothing  so  confused, 
but  God  can  order  it ;  nothing  so  bad,  but  he  can  draw  good  out  of  it ; 
nothing  so  wisely  plotted,  but  God  can  disappoint  it,  as  Ahithophel's 
counsel ;  nothing  so  simply  and  Unpoliticly  carried,  but  he  can  give  a  pre- 
vailing issue  unto  it ;  nothing  so  freely  carried,  in  regard  of  the  next  cause, 
but  God  can  make  it  necessary  in  regard  of  the  event ;  nothing  so  natural, 
but  he  can  suspend  it  in  regard  of  operation,  as  heavy  bodies  from  sinking, 
fire  from  burning,  &c. 

It  cannot  but  bring  strong  security  to  the  soul,  to  know  that  in  all 
variety  of  changes  and  intercourse  of  good  and  bad  events,  God,  and  our 
God,  hath  such  a  disposing  hand.  Whatsoever  befalls  us,  aU  serves  to 
bring  God's  electing  love,  and  our  glorification  together,  God's  providence 
serveth  his  purpose  to  save  us.  All  suflerings,  all  blessings,  all  ordinances, 
all  graces,  all  common  gifts,  nay,  our  very  falls,  yea,  Satan  himself  with 
all  his  instruments,  as  over-mastered,  and  ruled  by  God,  have  this  injunc- 
tion upon  them,  to  further  God's  good  intendment  to  us,  and  a  prohibition 
to  do  us  no  harm.  Augustus  taxed  the  world  for  civil  ends,  but  God's  pro- 
vidence used  this  as  a  means  for  Christ  to  be  born  at  Bethlehem.  Ahasuerus 
could  not  sleep,  and  thereupon  calls  for  the  chronicles,  the  reading  of  which 
occasioned  the  Jews'  delivery,  Esth.  vi.  1.     God  oft  disposeth  little  occa- 


THE  soul's  conflict.  207 

sions  to  great  purpoees.  And  by  those  very  ways  whereby  proud  men  have 
gone  about  to  withstand  God's  counsels,  they  have  fulfilled  them,  as  we  see 
in  the  story  of  Joseph  and  Moses,  '  in  the  thing  wherein  they  dealt  proudly, 
he  was  above  them,'  Exod.  x.  11.  Divinum  consilium,  duni  devitatur,  imple- 
tur ;  huniana  sapientia,  dum  reluctatiir,  comprehenditur. — Greg. 


Chaptek  XVII. — Of  graces  to  be  exercised  in  respect  of  Divine  Providence. 

We  are  under  a  providence  that  is  above  our  own ;  which  should  be  a 
ground  unto  us,  of  exercising  those  graces  that  tend  to  settle  the  soul,  in  all 
events.     As, 

1.  Hence  to  lay  our  hand  upon  our  mouths,  and  command  the  soul  an 
holy  silence,  not  daring  to  yield  to  the  least  rising  of  our  hearts  against  God. 
*  I  was  dumb,  and  opened  not  my  mouth,  because  thou  didst  it,'  Ps. 
xxxix.  9,  saith  David.  Thus  Aaron,  when  he  had  lost  his  two  sons,  both 
at  once,  and  that  by  fixe.  Lev.  x.  1,  2,  and  by  fire  from  heaven,  which  carried 
an  evidence  of  God's  great  displeasure  with  it,  yet  held  his  peace.  In  this 
silence  and  hope  is  our  strength.  Flesh  and  blood  is  prone  to  expostulate 
with  God,  and  to  question  his  deahng,  as  we  see  m  Gideon,  Jeremiah, 
Asaph,  Habaktuk,  and  others,  '  If  the  Lord  be  with  us,  -^hy  thfir*  ^'«  '-^l^  ^bia 
befallen  us  ?'  Jud.  vi.  13  ;  but,  after  some  struggling  between  the  flesh  and 
tEe  spirit,  thb  conclusion  wiU  be,  yet  howsoever  matters  go,  *  God  is  good 
to  Israel,'  Ps.  Ixxiii.  1.  Where  a  fearful  spirit,  and  a  melancholy  temper, 
a  weak  judgment,  and  a  scrupulous  and  raw  conscience  meet  in  one,  there 
Satan  and  nis,  together  with  men's  own  hearts,  which,  like  sophisters,  are 
continually  cavilling  against  themselves,  breed  much  disquiet,  and  makes 
the  life  uncomfortable.  Such,  therefore,  should  have  a  special  care,  as  to 
grow  in  knowledge,  so  to  stick  close  to  sure  and  certain  grounds,  and  bring 
their  consciences  to  the  rule.  Dai'kness  causeth  fears.  The  more  light, 
the  more  confidence.  When  we  yield  up  ourselves  to  God,  we  should 
resolve  upon  quietness,  and  if  the  heart  stirs,  presently  use  this  check  of 

>J^  David,  '  Whv  art  thon  disquieted  ? ' 

God's  ways  seem  oft  to  us  full  of  contradictions,  because  his  course  is  to 
bring  things  to  pass  by  contrary  means.  There  is  a  mystery  not  only  in 
God's  decree  concerning  man's  eternal  estate,  but  likewise  in  his  providence, 
as  why  he  should  deal  unequally  with  men  otherwise  equal.  His  judgments 
are  a  great  depth,  which  we  cannot  fathom,  but  they  will  swallow  up  our 
thoughts  and  understandings.  God  oft  wraps  himself  in  a  cloud,  and  will 
not  be  seen  till  afterward.  Where  we  cannot  trace  him,  we  ought  with  St 
Paul  to  admire  and  adore  him.  When  we  are  in  heaven,  it  wiU  be  one 
part  of  our  happiness  to  see  the  harmony  of  those  things  that  seem  now 
confused  unto  us.  All  God's  dealings  will  appear  beautiful  in  their  due 
seasons,  though  we  for  the  present  see  not  the  contiguity  and  linking  toge- 
ther of  one  with  another. 

2.  Hence  Ukewise  proceeds  a  holy  resigning  of  ourselves  to  God,  *  who 
doth  all  things  according  to  the  counsel  of  his  own  will,'  Dan.  xi.  16 ;  Eph. 
1.  11.  Voluntas  Dei,  necessitas  rei.  His  wiU  is  a  wise  wiU ;  it  is  guided 
by  counsel,  a  sovereign  prevailing  will.  The  only  way  to  have  our  wiU  is 
to  bring  it  to  God's  wiU.  If  we  could  deUght  in  him,  we  should  have  our 
heart's  desire.  Thus  David  yields  up  himself  to  God  :  *  Here  I  am  ;  let 
the  Lord  deal  with  me  as  seemeth  good  unto  him,  2  Sam.  xv.  26.  And 
thus  Eli,  when  God  foretold  by  Samuel  the  ruin  of  his  house,  quiets  him- 


208  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

self :  *  It  is  the  Lord ;  let  him  do  what  seemeth  him  good,'  1  Sam.  iii.  18. 
Thus  our  blessed  Saviour  stays  himself :  '  Not  my  will,  but  thy  will  be 
done.'  And  thus  the  people  of  God,  when  Paul  was  resolved  to  go  to 
Jerusalem,  submitted,  saying,  '  The  wiU  of  the  Lord  be  done,'  Acts  xxi.  14, 
— a  speech  fit  to  proceed  out  of  the  heart  and  mouth  of  a  Christian.  Vox 
vere  Christianonim. 

We  may  desire  and  long  after  a  change  of  our  condition,  when  we  look 
upon  the  grievance  itself,  but  yet  remember  stiU  that  it  be  with  reservation, 
when  we  look  upon  the  wiU  of  God,  as,  '  How  long,  Lord,  holy  and  true,' 
&c.  Rev.  vi.  10.  Out  of  inferior  reasons  we  may  with  our  Saviour  desire 
a  removal  of  the  cup  ;  but  when  we  look  to  the  supreme  reason  of  reasons, 
the  wiU  of  God,  here  we  must  stoop  and  kiss  the  rod.  '  Thus  humbling 
ourselves  under  his  mighty  hand,'  1  Peter  v.  6,  which  by  murmuring  and 
fretting  we  may  make  more  heavy,  but  not  take  ofi",  still  adding  new  guilt 
and  puUing  on  new  judgments. 

3.  The  way  patiently  to  suffer  God's  will,  is  to  inure  ourselves  first  .to 
do  it.  Passive  obedience  springs  from  active.  He  that  endures  anything 
will  endure  it  quietly,  when  he  knows  it  is  the  will  of  God,  and  considers 
that  whatever  befaUs  him  comes  from  his  good  pleasure.  Those  that  have 
not  inured  themselves  to  the  yoke  of  obedience,  will  never  endure  the  yoke 
of  suffering  ;  they  fume  and  rage  '  as  a  wild  boar  in  a  net,'  Isa.  li.  20,  as 
the  prophet  speaks.  It  is  worth  the  considering,  to  see  two  men  of  equal 
parts  under  the  same  cross,  how  quietly  and  calmly  the  one  that  establish- 
eth  his  soul  on  Christ  will  bear  his  afflictions,  whereas  the  other  rageth  as 
a  fool,  and  is  more  beaten. 

Nothing  should  displease  us  that  pleaseth  God  :  neither  should  anything 
be  pleasing  to  us  that  displeaseth  him.  This  conformity  is  the  ground  of 
comfort.  Our  own  will  takes  away  God,  as  much  as  in  it  hes.  Propria 
voluntas  Deum  quantum  in  ipsa  eximit.  '  If  we  acknowledge  God  in  all 
our  ways,  he  will  direct  our  paths,  and  lead  us  the  way  that  we  should  go,' 
Prov.  iii.  6.  The  quarrel  betwixt  God  and  us  is  taken  up,  when  his  will 
and  our  wiU  are  one ;  when  we  have  sacrificed  ourselves  and  our  wills  unto 
God ;  when,  as  he  is  highest  in  himself,  so  his  will  hath  the  highest  place 
in  our  hearts.  We  find  by  experience  that,  when  our  wills  are  so  subdued, 
that  we  dehght  to  do  what  God  would  have  us  do,  and  to  be  what  God 
would  have  us  be,  that  then  sweet  peace  presently  riseth  to  the  soul. 

When  we  can  say.  Lord,  if  thou' wilt  have  me  poor  and  disgraced,  I  am 
content  to  be  so ;  if  thou  wilt  have  me  serve  thee  in  this  condition  I  am 
in,  I  will  gladly  do  so.  It  is  enough  to  me  that  thou  wouldst  have  it  so. 
I  desire  to  yield  readily,  humbly,  and  cheerfully  to  thy  disposing  provi- 
dence. Thus  a  godly  man  says  amen  to  God's  amen,  and  puts  his  fiat 
and  pZacei  to  God's.  As  the  sea  turns  all  rivers  into  its  own  rehsh,  so  he 
turns  aU  to  his  own  spirit,  and  makes  whatsoever  befalls  him  an  exercise 
of  some  virtue.  A  heathen  could  say  that  calamities  did  rule  over  men, 
but  a  wise  man  hath  a  spirit  overruling  aU  calamities ;  much  more  a 
Christian.  For  a  man  to  be  in  this  estate,  is  to  enjoy  heaven  in  the  world 
under  heaven.  God's  kingdom  comes  where  his  wiU  is  thus  done  and 
sufiered. 

None  feel  more  sweet  experience  of  God's  providence  than  those  that  are 
most  resolute  in  their  obedience.  After  we  have  given  glory  to  God  in  re- 
lying upon  his  wisdom,  power,  and  truth,  we  shaU  find  him  employing  these 
for  our  direction,  assistance,  and  bringing  about  of  things  to  our  desired 
*€sue,  yea,  above  whatever  we  looked  for,  or  thought  of. 


THE  soul's  conflict.  209 

In  all  cases  that  fall  out,  or  that  we  can  put  to  ourselves,  as  in  case  of 
extremity,  opposition,  stran^re  accidents,  desertion,  and  damps  of  spirit. 
&c.,  here  we  may  take  sanctuary,  that  we  are  in  covenant  with  him  who 
sits  at  the  stem  and  rules  all,  and  hath  committed  the  government  of  all 
things  to  his  Son,  our  brother,  our  Joseph,  the  second  person  in  heaven. 
We  may  be  sure  that  no  hurt  shall  befall  us  that  he  can  hinder ;  and  what 
cannot  he  hinder  'that  hath  the  keys  of  hell  and  of  death?'  Rev.  i.  18, 
unto  whom  we  are  so  near  that  he  carries  '  our  names  in  his  breast,  and 
on  his  shoulders,'  Heb.  iv.  15,  as  the  high  priest  did  those  of  the  twelve 
tribes.  Though  his  church  seems  a  widow  neglected,  ye  he  will  make  the 
world  know  that  she  hath  a  husband  will  right  her  in  good  time. 

Quest.  But  it  may  be  demanded.  What  course  is  to  be  taken  for  guidance 
of  our  lives  in  particular  actions,  wherein  doubts  may  arise  what  is  most 
agreeable  to  the  will  of  God  ? 

Ans.  1.  We  must  not  put  all  carelessly  upon  a  providence,  but  first  con- 
sider what  is  our  part ;  and,  so  far  as  God  prevents  us  with  light,  and 
affords  us  helps  and  means,  we  must  not  be  faiUng  in  our  duty.  We 
should  neither  outrun  nor  be  wanting  to  providence.  But  in  perplexed 
cases,  where  the  reasons  on  both  sides  seem  to  be  equally  balanced,  see 
whether  part  make  more  for  the  main  end,  the  glory  of  God,  the  service  of 
others,  and  advancement  of  our  own  spiritual  good.  Siwima  ratio  qiuB  pro 
religione  facit.  Some  things  are  so  clear  and  even,  that  there  is  not  a  best 
between  them,  but  one  may  be  done  as  well  as  the  other,  as  when  two  ways 
equally  tend  to  one  and  the  same  place. 

2.  We  are  not  our  own,  and  therefore  must  not  set  up  ourselves.  We 
must  not  consult  with  liesh  and  blood  either  in  om-selves  or  others,  fur 
self-love  will  deprave  all  our  actions,  by  setting  before  us  corrupt  ends.  It 
considers  not  what  is  best,  but  what  is  safest.  By-respects  sway  the 
balance  the  wrong  way. 

3.  When  things  are  clear,  and  God's  will  is  manifest,  further  deliberation  is 
dangerous,  and  for  the  most  part  argues  a  false  heart ;  as  we  see  in  Balaam,, 
who,  though  he  knew  God's  mind,  yet  would  be  still  consulting,  till  God 
in  judgment  gave  him  up  to  what  his  covetous  heart  led  him  unto,  2  Pet. 
ii.  15.  A  man  is  not  fit  to  deliberate  till  his  heart  be  purged  of  false  aims; 
for  else  God  wiU  give  him  to  the  darkness  of  his  own  spirit,  and  he  will  be 
always  warping,  unfit  for  any  bias.  Where  the  aims  are  good,  there  God 
delighteth  to  reveal  his  good  pleasure.  Such  a  soul  is  level  and  suitable 
to  any  good  (/ounsel  that  shall  be  given,  and  prepared  to  entertain  it.  In 
what  measure  any  lust  is  favoured,  in  that  measure  the  soul  is  darkened. 
Even  wise  Solomon,  whilst  he  gave  way  to  his  lust,  had  like  to  have  lost 
his  wisdom. 

We  must  look  to  our  place  wherein  God  hath  set  us.  If  we  be  in  sub- 
jection to  others,  their  authority  in  doubtful  things  ought  to  sway  with  us. 
It  is  certain  we  ought  to  obey ;  and  if  the  thing  wherein  we  are  to  obey 
be  uncertain  unto  us,  we  ought  to  leave  that  which  is  uncertain  and  stick 
to  that  which  is  certain ;  in  this  case  we  must  obey  those  that  are  gods 
under  God.  Neither  is  it  the  calhng  of  those  that  are  subjects,  to  inquire 
over  curiously  into  the  mysteries  of  government ;  for  that,  both  in  peace 
and  war,  breeds  much  disturbance,  and  would  trouble  all  designs  (ff).''^ 

The  laws  under  which  we  live  ai'e  particular  determinations  of  the  law 
of  God  [in  some  duties  of  the  second  table.     For  example,  the  law  of  God 

*  See  note  'g'  for  the  charge  based  on  the  subsequent  alteration  of  this  passage 
and  context. 

VOL.  1,  O 


210  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

gays,  'Exact  no  more  than  what  is  thy  due,'  Luke  iii.  13.  But  what  in 
particular  is  thy  due,  and  what  another  man's,  the  laws  of  men  determine],* 
'  and  therefore  ought  to  be  a  rule  unto  us  so  far  as  they  reach ;  though  it 
be  too  narrow  a  rule  to  be  good  only  so  far  as  man's  law  guides  unto.f  Yet 
law  being  the  joint  reason  and  consent  of  many  men  for  pubUc  good,  hath 
a  use  for  guidance  of  all  actions  that  fall  under  the  same.  Where  it  dashes 
not  against  God's  law,  what  is  agreeable  to  law  is  agreeable  to  conscience. 

The  law  of  God  in  the  due  enlargement  of  it,  to  the  least  beginning  and 
occasions,  is  exceeding  broad,  and  allows  of  whatsoever  stands  with  the 
light  of  reason  or  the  bonds  of  humanity,  civihty,  &c.,  and  whatsoever  is 
against  these  is  so  far  against  God's  law.  So  that  higher  rules  be  looked 
to  in  the  fii'st  place,  there  is  nothing  lovely  or  praiseworthy  among  men 
but  ought  to  be  seriously  thought  on. 

Nature  of  itself  is  wild  and  untamed,  and  impatient  of  the  yoke  ;  but  as 
beasts  that  cannot  endure  the  yoke  at  first,  after  they  are  inured  awhile 
unto  it  bear  it  willingly,  and  carry  their  work  more  easily  by  it,  so  the 
yoke  of  obedience  makes  the  life  regular  and  quiet.  The  meeting  of 
authority  and  obedience  together,  maintains  the  peace  and  order  of  the  world. 

So  of  that  question. I 

5.  Though  blind  enfolded  §  obedience,  such  as  our  adversaries  would  have, 
be  such  as  will  never  stand  with  sound  peace  of  conscience,  which  always 
looks  to  have  light  to  direct  it ;  for  else  a  blind  conscience  would  breed 
blind  fears ;  yet  in  such  doubtful  cases  wherein  we  cannot  wind  out  our- 
selves, we  ought  to  light  our  candles  at  others  whom  we  have  cause  to 
think,  by  their  place  and  parts,  should  see  further  than  we.  In  matters  of 
outward  estate,  we  will  have  men  skilful  of  om-  counsel ;  and  Christians 
would  find  more  sound  peace,  if  they  would  advise  with  their  godly  and 
learned  pastors  and  friends.  Where  there  is  not  a  direct  word,  there  is 
place  for  the  counsel  of  a  prudent  man,  sententia  boni  viri.  And  it  is  a 
happiness  for  them  whose  business  is  much,  and  parts  not  large,  to  have 
the  benefit  of  those  that  can  give  aim,  and  see  further  than  themselves. 
The  meanest  Christian  understands  his  own  way,  and  knows  how  to  do 
things  with  better  advantage  to  his  soul  than  a  graceless  though  learned 
man  ;  yet  is  stUl  glad  of  further  discovery.  In  counsel  there  is  peace,  the 
thoughts  being  thus  established,  Prov.  xx.  18. 

When  we  have  advised  and  served  God's  providence  in  the  use  of 
means,  then  if  it  fall  out  otherwise  than  we  look  for,  we  may  confidently 
conclude  that  God  would  not  have  it  so,  otherwise  to  our  grief  we  may  say 
it  was  the  fi'uit  of  our  own  rashness. 

Where  we  have  cause  to  think  that  we  have  used  better  means  in  the 
search  of  grounds,  and  are  more  free  from  partial  affections  than  others, 
there  we  may  use  our  own  ad\ice  more  safely.  Otherwise  what  we  do  by 
consent  from  others,  is  more  secure  and  less  ofiensive,  as  being  more  coun- 
tenanced. 

In  advice  with  others,  it  is  not  sufiicient  to  be  generally  wise,  but  ex- 
perienced and  knowing  in  that  we  ask,  which  is  an  honour  to  God's  gifts 
where  we  find  them  in  any  kind.     When  we  set  about  things  in  passion, 

*■  The  words  in  brackets  inserted  first  in  B.     See  note  g. — G. 

t  The  following  margin-note  first  added  in  B  :  'l^imis  angusta  innocentia  est  ad 
legem  bonum  esse.' — G. 

X  Inserted  first  in  C. 

§  '  Blinde  enfolded '  in  A,  and  therefore  given  in  text ;  but '  blindfold '  in  B  and 
C. — G. 


THE  soul's  conflict.  211 

we  work  not  as  men  or  Christians,  but  in  a  bestial  manner.  The  more 
passion,  the  less  discretion ;  because  passion  hinders  the  sight  of  what  is 
to  be  done.  It  clouds  the  soul,  and  puts  it  on  to  action  without  advise- 
ment. Where  passions  are  subdued,  and  the  soul  purged  and  cleared,*'^ 
there  is  nothing  to  hinder  the  impression  of  God's  Spirit ;  the  soul  is  ^ 
fitted  as  a  clean  glass  to  receive  hght  fi'om  above.  And  that  is  the  reason 
why  mortified  men  are  fittest  to  advise  with  in  the  particular  cases  incident 
to  a  Christian  hfe. 

After  all  advice,  extract  what  is  fittest,  and  what  our  spirits  do  most  bend 
unto ;  for  in  things  that  concern  ourselves  God  afibrds  a  light  to  discern, 
out  of  what  is  spoken,  what  best  suiteth  us.  And  every  man  is  to  follow 
most  what  his  own  conscience,  after  information,  dictates  unto  him ;  because 
conscience  is  God's  deputy  in  us,  and  under  God  most  to  be  regarded,  and 
whosoever  sius  against  it,  in  his  own  construction  sins  against  God.  God 
vouchsafeth  every  Christian  in  some  degree  the  grace  of  spiritual  prudence, 
whereby  they  are  enabled  to  discern  what  is  fittest  to  be  done  in  things  that 
fall  within  their  compass. 

It  is  good  to  observe  the  particular  becks  *  of  providence,  how  things 
join  and  meet  together.  Fit  occasions  and  suiting  of  things  are  intimations 
of  God's  will.  Providence  hath  a  language  which  is  well  understood  by 
those  that  have  a  familiar  acquaintance  with  God's  dealing ;  they  see  a 
train  of  providence  leading  one  way  more  than  to  another. 

Take  especial  heed  of  not  grieving  the  Spuit  when  he  offers  to  be  our 
gmde,  by  studying  evasions,  and  wishing  the  case  were  otherwise.  This  is 
to  be  lawgivers  to  ourselves,  thinldng  that  we  are  wiser  than  God.  The 
use  of  discretion  is  not  to  direct  us  about  the  end,  whether  we  should 
do  well  or  iU  (for  a  single  heart  always  aims  at  good),  but  when  we  resolve 
upon  doing  weU,  and  yet  doubt  of  the  manner  how  to  perform  it.  Discre- 
tion looks  not  so  much  to  what  is  lawful,  for  that  is  taken  for  granted,  but 
what  is  most  expedient.  A  discreet  man  looks  not  to  what  is  best,  so  much 
asjghat  is  fittest  in  such  and  sucJi  respects,  by  eyemg  cu'cumstances,  which, 
if  they  sort  not,  do  vary  the  nature  of  the  thing  itself. 

And  IBeSSlUBt!  iris  "not  m  man  to  imow  his  own  ways,  we  should  look  up 
unto  Christ,  the  great  Counsellor  of  his  church,  to  vouchsafe  the  spirit  of 
counsel  and  direction  to  us ;  that  '  make  our  way  plain  before  us,'  by 
suggesting  unto  us,  *  this  is  the  way,  walk  in  it,'  Isa.  xxx.  21.  "We  owe 
God  this  respect,  to  depend  upon  him  for  direction  in  the  particular  pas- 
sages of  our  lives,  in  regard  that  he  is  om'  Sovereign,  and  his  wiU  is  the 
rule,  and  we  are  to  be  accountable  to  him  as  our  judge.  It  is  God  only 
that  can  see  through  businesses,  and  aU  helps  and  lets  that  stand  about. 

After  we  have  rolled  ourselves  upon  God,  we  should  immediately  take 
that  course  he  inclines  our  hearts  unto,  without  further  distracting  fear. 
Otherwise  it  is  a  sign  we  '  commit  not  our  way  to  him,'  1  Pet.  iv.  19,  when 
we  do  not  quietly  trust  him,  but  remain  still  as  thoughtful  as  if  we  did  not 
trust  him.  After  prayer  and  trust  follows  '  the  peace  of  God,'  Phil.  ii.  4, 
and  a  heart  void  of  further  dividing  care.  We  should  therefore  presently 
question  our  hearts,  for  questioning  his  care,  and  not  regard  what  fear  will 
be  ready  to  suggest,  for  that  is  apt  to  raise  conclusions  against  ourselves,  out 
of  self-conceited  grounds,  whereby  we  usurp  upon  God  and  wrong  ourselves. 

It  was  a  good  resolution  of  the  three  young  men  in  Daniel,   '  We  are  not 
careful  to  answer  thee,  0  king,'  Dan.  iii.  16.    We  know  our  duty,  let  God  do 
with  us  as  he  pleaseth.     ITAbraham  had  hearkened  to  the  voice  of  nature, 
*  That  i.",  sigaals,  indications. — G. 


212  THE  SOtHi's  CONFLICT. 

he  would  never  have  resolved  to  sacrifice  Isaac,  hut  hecause  he  cast  him- 
.eelf  upon  God's  providing,  God  in  the  mount  provided  a  ram  instead  of  his 
son. 


Chapter  XVIII. — Other  grounds  of  trusting  in  God,  namely,  the  Promises^ 

and  twelve  directions  about  the  same. 

§  I.  But  for  the  better  settling  of  our  trust  in  God,  a  farther  discovery 
is  necessary  than  of  the  nature  and  providence  of  God ;  for  though  the 
nature  of  God  be  written  in  the  book  of  the  creatures  in  so  great  letters, 
as  he  that  runs  may  read,  and  though  the  providence  of  God  appears  in 
the  order  and  use  of  things,  yet  there  is  another  book  whereby  to  know  the 
will  of  God  towards  us,  and  our  duty  towards  him.  We  must  therefore 
have  a  knowledge  of  the  promises  of  God,  as  well  as  of  his  providence,  for 
though  God  hath  discovered  himself  most  graciously  in  Christ  unto  us,  yet 
had  we  not  a  word  of  promise,  we  could  not  have  the  boldness  to  build 
upon  Christ  himself.  Therefore,  from  the  same  grounds,  that  there  is  a 
God,  there  must  be  a  reveaUng  of  the  will  of  God,  for  else  we  can  never 
have  any  firm  trust  in  him  further  than  he  offers  himself  to  be  trusted. 
Therefore  hath  God  opened  his  heart  to  us  in  his  word,  and  reached  out  so 
many  sweet  promises  for  us  to  lay  hold  on,  and  stooped  so  low,  by  gracious 
condescending  mixed  with  authority,  as  to  enter  into  a  covenant  with  us  to 
perform  all  things  for  our  good  ;  for  promises  are,  as  it  were,  the  stay  of 
the  soul  in  an  imperfect  condition,  and  so  is  faith  in  them  until  all  pro- 
mises shall  end  in  perfonnance,  and  faith  in  sight,  and  hope  in  possession. 

Now  these  promises  are,  1,  for  their  spring  from  whence  they  proceed, 
free  engagements  of  God,  for  if  he  had  not  bovmd  himself,  who  could  ?  and 
2,  they  are  for  their  value  precious ;  and  3,  for  their  extent  large,  even  of 
all  things  that  conduce  to  happiness ;  and  4,  for  their  virtue  quickening 
and  strengthening  the  soul,  as  coming  from  the  love  of  God,  and  conveying 
that  love  unto  us  by  his  Spirit  in  the  best  fruits  thereof;  and  5,  for  their 
certainty,  they  are  as  sm-e  as  the  love  of  God  in  Christ  is,  upon  which  they 
are  founded,  and  from  which  '  nothing  can  separate  us,'  Rom.  viii.  39.  For 
all  promises  are  either  Chi'ist  himself,  the  promised  seed,  or  else  they  are 
of  good  things  made  to  us  in  him' and  for  him,  and  accomplished  for  his 
sake.  They  are  all  made  fii-st  to  him  as  heir  of  the  promise,  as  Angel  of 
the  Covenant,  as  head  of  his  body,  and  as  our  elder  brother,  &c.  For  pro- 
mises being  the  fi-uits  of  God's  love,  and  God's  love  being  founded  first  on 
Christ,  it  must  needs  follow  that  all  the  promises  are  both  made,  and  made 
good  to  us  in  and  through  him,  who  is  '  yesterday,  and  to-day,  and  for  ever 
the  same,'  Heb.  xiii.  8. 

That  we  should  not  call  God's  love  into  question,  he  not  only  gives  us, 
/  (1)  his  word,  but  a  binding  word,  his  promise ;  and  not  only  (2)  a  naked 
promise,  but  hath  (3)  entered  into  a  covenant  with  us,  founded  upon  full 
satisfaction  by  the  blood  of  Christ,  and  unto  this  covenant  sealed  by  the 
blood  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  he  hath  (4)  added  the  seals  of  sacraments,  and 
unto  this  he  hath  added  (5)  his  oath,  that  there  might  be  no  place  left  of 
doubting  to  the  distrustful  heart  of  man.  There  is  no  way  of  securing  pro- 
mises amongst  men,  but  God  hath  taken  the  same  to  himself,  and  all  to 
this  end  that  we  might  not  only  know  his  mind  towards  us,  but  be  fully  per- 
suaded of  it,  that  as  verily  as  he  lives,  he  will  make  good  whatever  he  hath 
promised  for  the  comfort  of  his  children.     What  greater  assurance  can 


THE  soul's  conflict.  213 

there  be  than  for  being  itself  to  lay  his  being  in  pawn  ?  and  for  life  it- 
self to  lay  life  to  pawn,  and  all  to  comfort  a  poor  soul  ? 

The  boundless  and  restless  desire  of  man's  spirit  will  never  be  stayed 
without  some  discovery  of  the  chief  good,  and  the  way  to  attain  the  same. 
Men  would  have  been  ia  darkness  about  their  final  condition  and  the  way 
to  please  God,  and  to  pacify  and  purge  their  consciences,  had  not  the  word 
of  God  set  down  the  spring  and  cause  of  all  evil,  together  with  the  cure  of 
it,  and  du*ected  us  how  to  have  communion  with  God,  and  to  raise  our- 
selves above  all  the  evil  which  we  meet  withal  betwixt  us  and  happiness, 
and  to  make  us  eveiy  way  '  wise  to  salvation,'  2  Tim.  iii.  15.  Hence  it  is 
that  the  Psalmist  prefers  the  manifestation  of  God  by  his  word  before  the 
manifestation  of  him  in  his  most  glorious  works,  Ps.  xix.  7. 

And  thus  we  see  the  necessity  of  a  double  principle  for  faith  to  rely  on : 
1,  God  ;  and  2,  the  Word  of  God  reveaUng  his  wiU  unto  us,  and  directing 
us  to  make  use  of  all  his  attributes,  relations,  and  providence  for  our  good ; 
and  this  word  hath  its  strength  from  him  who  gives  a  being  and  an  accom- 
plishment unto  it ;  for  words  are  as  the  authority  of  him  that  uttereth  them 
is.  When  we  look  upon  a  grant  in  the  word  of  a  king,  it  stays  our  minds, 
because  we  know  he  is  able  to  make  it  good ;  and  why  should  it  not  satisfy 
our  souls  to  look  upon  promises  in  the  word  of  God?  whose  words,  as  they 
come  from  his  truth  and  express  his  goodness,  so  they  are  all  made  good 
by  his  power  and  wisdom. 

By  the  bare  word  of  God  it  is  that  the  heavens  continue,  and  the  earth, 
without  any  other  foundation,  hangs  in  the  midst  of  the  world ;  therefore 
well  may  the  soul  stay  itself  on  that,  oven  vruen  it  bath  nothing  else  in 
sight  to  rely  upon.  By  his  word  it  is  that  the  covenant  of  day  and  night, 
and  the  preservation  of  the  world  from  any  further  overflowing  of  waters, 
2  Peter  iii.  7,  continueth,  which,  if  it  should  faU,  yet  his  covenant  with  his 
people  shaU  abide  firm  for  ever,  though  the  whole  frame  of  nature  were 
dissolved. 

When  we  have  thus  gotten  a  fit  foundation  for  the  soul  lu  lay  itself  upon, 
om*  next  care  must  be,  by  trusting,  to  build  on  the  same.  All  our  misery 
is  either  in  having  a  false  foundation,  or  else  in  loose  building  upon  a  true. 
Therefore,  having  so  strong  a  ground  as  God's  nature,  his  providence,  his 
promise,  &c.,  to  build  upon,  the  only  way  for  establishing  our  souls  is,  by 
trust,  to  rely  firmly  on  him. 

Now  the  reason  why  trust  is  so  much  required,  is  because,  1,  it  emptieth 
the  soul;  and  2,  by^emptying  enlargeth  it ;  and  3,  seasoneth  and  fitteth  the 
sOul  to  join  with  so  gracious  an  object ;  and  4,  filleth  it  by  carrvmg  it  out  of 
iltjeil  unto  God,  who  presently,  so  soon  as  he  is  trusted  in,  conveys  him- 
seit  and  his  goodness  to  the  soul ;  and  thus  we  come  to  have  the  comfort, 
and  God  the  glory  of  all  his  excellencies.  Thus  salvation  comes  to  be  sure 
unto  us,  whilst  faith,  looking  to  the  promises,  and  to  God  freely  ofiering 
grace  therein,  resigns  up  itself  to  God,  making  no  further  question  from 
any  unworthiness  of  its  own. 

And  thus  we  return  to  God  by  cleaving  to  him,  from  whom  we  fell  by 
distrust,  Kving  under  a  new  covenant  merely  of  grace,  Jer.  xxxi.  3,  and  no 
grace  fitter  than  that  which  gives  aU  to  Christ.  Considering  the  fountain 
of  aU  oiu-  good  is,  out  of  ourselves,  in  him,  it  being  safest  for  us,  who  were 
so  ill  husbands  at  the  first,  that  it  should  be  so,  therefore  it  is  fit  we  should 
have  use  of  such  a  grace  that  will  carry  us  out  of  ourselves  to  the  spring 
head. 

The  way,  then,  whereby  faith  quieteth  the  soul,  is  by  raising  it  above  all 


214  THE  SOUL  SJ  CONFLICT. 

discontentments  and  storms  here  below,  and  pitching  it  upon  God,  thereby 
uniting  it  to  him,  whence  it  draws  virtue  to  oppose  and  bring  under  what- 
soever troubles  its  peace.  For  the  soul  is  made  for  God,  and  never  finds 
rest  tin  it  returns  to  him  again  (h).  When  God  and  the  soul  meet,  there  will 
follow  contentment.  God  simply  considered,  is  not  all  our  happiness,  but 
God  as  trusted  in ;  and  Christ  as  we  are  made  one  with  him.  The  soul 
cannot  so  much  as  '  touch  the  hem  of  Christ's  garment,'  but  it  shall  find 
'  virtue  coming  from  him,'  Mat.  ix.  20,  to  sanctify  and  settle  it.  God  in 
Christ  is  fuU  of  all  that  is  good.  When  the  soul  is  emptied,  enlarged,  and 
opened  by  faith  to  receive  goodness  offered,  there  must  needs  follow  sweet 
satisfaction. 

§  II.  1.  For  the  better  strengthening  of  our  trust,  it  is  not  sufficient  that 
we  trust  in  God  and  his  truth  revealed,  but  we  must  do  it  by  light  and 
strength  from  him.  Many  believe  in  the  truth  by  human  arguments,  but 
no  arguments  will  convince  the  soul  but  such  as  are  fetched  from  the  in- 
ward nature,  and  powerful  work  of  truth  itself.  No  man  can  know  God, 
but  by  God  ;  none  can  know  the  sun,  but  by  its  own  light ;  none  can  know 
the  truth  of  God,  so  as  to  build  upon  it,  but  by  the  truth  itself  and  the 
Spirit  revealing  it  by  its  own  light  to  the  soul.  That  soul  which  hath  felt 
the  power  of  truth  in  casting  it  down,  and  raising  it  up  again,  will  easily  be 
brought  to  rest  upon  it.  It  is  neither  education,  nor  the  authority  of  others 
that  profess  the  same  truth,  or  that  we  have  been  so  taught  by  men  of  great 
parts,  &c.,  will  settle  the  heart,  until  we  find  an  inward  power  and  autho- 
rity in  the  truth  itself  shining  in  om*  hearts  by  its  own  beams.  Hence 
comes  unsettledness  in  time  of  troubles,  because  we  have  not  a  spiritual 
discerning  of  spiritual  things.  Supernatural  truths  must  have  a  superna- 
tural power  to  apprehend  them,  therefore  God  createth  a  spiritual  eye  and 
hand  of  the  soul,  which  is  faith.  In  those  that  are  truly  converted,  all 
saving  tmths  are  transcribed  out  of  the  Scriptm-e  into  their  hearts,  *  they 
are  taught  of  God,'  Isa.  hv.  13,  so  as  they  find  all  truths,  both  concerning 
the  sinful  estate  and  the  gracious  and  happy  estate  of  man  ia  themselves. 
They  carry  a  divinity  in  them  and  about  them,  so  as  from  a  saving  feeling 
they  can  speak  of  conversion,  of  sin,  of  grace,  and  the  comforts  of  the 
Spirit,  &c.,  and  from  this  acquaintance  are  ready  to  yield  and  give  up  them- 
selves to  truth  revealed,  and  to  God  speaking  by  it. 

2.  Trust  is  never  sound  but  upon  a  spiritual  conviction  of  the  truth 
and  goodness  we  rely  upon,  for  the  effecting  of  which  the  Spirit  of  God 
must  likewise  subdue  the  rebellion  and  malice  of  our  iviU,  that  so  it  may 
be  suitable  and  level  to  divine  things,  and  reUsh  them  as  they  are.  We 
must  apprehend  the  love  of  God,  and  the  fruits  of  it,  as  better  than  life 
itself,  and  then  choosing  and  cleaving  to  the  same  will  soon  follow ;  for  as 
there  is  a  fitness  in  divine  truths  to  all  the  necessities  of  the  soul,  so  the 
soul  must  be  fitted  by  them  to  savour  and  apply  them  to  itself ;  and  then 
from  an  harmony  between  the  soul  and  that  which  it  applies  itself  unto 
there  will  follow,  not  only  peace  in  the  soul,  but  joy  and  delight  surpassing 
any  contentment  in  the  world  besides. 

3.  As  there  is  in  God  to  satisfy  the  whole  soul,  so  trust  carries  the  whole 
soul  to  God.  This  makes  trust  not  so  easy  a  matter,  because  there  must 
be  an  exercise  of  every  faculty  of  the  soul,  or  else  our  trust  is  imperfect 
and  lame.  There  must  be  a  knowledge  of  him  whom  we  trust,  and  why 
we  trust,  an  affiance  and  love,  &c.  Only  they  that  know  God  will  trust  in 
him ;  not  that  knowledge  alone  is  sufficient,  but  because  the  sweetness  of 


THE  sottl's  conflict.  215 

God's  love  is  let  into  the  sonl  thereby,  which  draweth  the  whole  soul  to 
him.  We  are  bidden  to  trust  perfectly  in  God  ;  therefore,  seeing  we  have 
a  God  so  full  of  perfection  to  trust  in,  we  should  labour  to  trust  perfectly 
in  him. 

4.  And  it  is  good  for  the  exercise  of  trust  to  put  cases  to  ourselves  of 
things  that  probably  may  fall  out,  and  then  retui'n  to  our  souls  to  search 
what  strength  we  have  if  such  things  should  come  to  pass.  Thus  Da^dd 
puts  cases.  Perfect  faith  dares  put  the  hardest  cases  to  its  soul,  and  then 
set  God  against  all  that  may  befaU  it,  Ps.  iii.  6  ;  xlvi.  3  ;  sxvii.  3. 

5.  Again,  labour  to  ft  the  promise  to  every  condition  thou  art  in. 
There  is  no  condition  but  hath  a  promise  suitable,  therefore  no  condition 
but  wherein  God  may  be  trusted,  because  his  truth  and  goodness  are  always 
the  same.  And  in  the  promise,  look  both  to  the  good  promised  and  to  the 
faithfulness  and  love  of  the  promiser.  It  is  not  good  to  look  upon  the  diffi- 
culty of  the  thing  we  have  a  promise  against,  but  who  promiseth  it,  and  for 
whose  sake,  and  so  see  all  good  things  in  Christ  made  over  to  us. 

6.  We  should  labour  likewise  for  a  single  heart  to  trust  in  God  only. 
There  is  no  readier  way  to  fall  than  to  trust  equally  to  two  stays,  whereof 
one  is  rotten,  and  the  other  sound  ;  therefore  as  in  point  of  doctrine  we  are 
to  rely  upon  Christ  only,  and  to  make  the  Scriptm-es  our  rule  only  ;  so  in 
life  and  conversation,  whatever  we  make  use  of,  yet  we  should  enjoy  and 
rely  upon  God  only ;  for  either  God  is  trusted  alone  or  not  at  all.  Those 
that  trust  to  others  things  with  God,  trust  not  him  but  upon  pretence  to 
carry  their  double  minds  with  less  check. 

7.  Again,  labour  that  thy  soiil  may  ansirer  all  the  relations  wherein  it 
stands  to  God,  by  cleaving  to  him,  (1)  as  a  Father,  by  trusting  on  his  care  ; 
(2)  as  a  Teacher,  by  following  his  du'ection ;  (3)  as  a  Creator,  by  dependence 
on  him;  (4)  as  a  Husband,  by  inseparable  affection  of  love  to  him;  (5)  as  a 
Lord,  by  obedience,  &c.  And  then  we  may  with  comfort  expect  whatsoever 
good  these  relations  can  yield  ;  aU  which,  God,  regarding  more  our  wants 
and  weaknesses  than  his  own  greatness,  hath  taken  upon  him. 

8.  ShaU  these  relations  yield  comfort  from  the  creature,  and  not  from  God 
himself,  in  whom  they  are  in  their  highest  perfection  ?  shall  God  make 
other  fathers  and  husbands  faithful,  and  not  be  faithful  himself?  All  our 
comfort  depends  upon  labouring  to  make  these  relations  good  to  our  souls. 

And  as  we  must  wholly  and  only  trust  in  God,  so  likewise  we  must  trust 
him  in  all  conditions  and  times,  for  all  things  that  we  stand  in  need  of, 
until  that  time  comes,  wherein  we  shall  stand  in  need  of  nothing  :  for  as 
the  same  care  of  God  moved  him  to  save  us,  and  to  preserve  us  in  the  world 
till  we  be  put  in  possession  of  salvation  ;  so  the  same  faith  relies  upon  God 
for  heaven  and  all  necessary  provision  till  we  come  thither.  It  is  the  office 
of  faith  to  quiet  our  souls  in  aU  the  necessities  of  this  life,  and  we  have 
continual  use  of  trusting  while  we  are  here ;  for  even  when  we  have  things, 
yet  God  still  keeps  the  blessing  of  them  in  his  own  hands,  to  hold  us  in  a 
continual  dependence  upon  him.  God  trains  us  up  this  way,  by  exercising 
our  trust  in  lesser  matters,  to  fit  us  for  greater.  Thus  it  pleaseth  God  to 
keep  us  in  a  depending  condition  until  he  see  his  own  time ;  but  so  good  is 
God  that  as  he  intends  to  give  us  what  we  wait  for,  so  will  he  give  us  the 
grace  and  spirit  of  faith,  to  sustain  our  souls  in  waiting  till  we  enjoy  the 
same.  The  unruliness  of  a  natural  spirit  is  never  discovered  more,  than, 
when  God  defers  ;  therefore  we  should  labour  the  more  not  to  withdi-aw  our 
attendance  from  God.  / 

9.  Further,  we  must  know  that  the  condition  of  a  Chi'istian  in  this  life,  *^ 


216  THE  SOTJL  S  CONFLICT. 

is  not  to  see  what  he  trusts  God  for ;  '  he  lives  by  faith,  and  not  by  sight,' 
2  Cor.  V.  7 ;  and  yet  there  is  such  a  virtue  in  faith,  vrhich  makes  evident 
■  and  present,  things  to  come  and  unseen  ;  because  God,  where  he  gives  an 
eye  of  faith,  gives  also  a  glass  of  the  word  to  see  things  in,  and  by  seeing 
of  them  in  the  truth  and  power  of  him  that  promiseth,  they  become  pre- 
sent, not  only  to  the  understanding  to  apprehend  them,  but  to  the  will  to 
rest  upon  them,  and  to  the  affections  to  joy  in  them.  It  is  the  nature  of 
faith  to  work,  when  it  seeth  nothing,  and  oftentimes  best  of  all  then,  be- 
cause God  shews  himself  more  clearly  in  his  power,  wisdom,  and  goodness, 
at  such  times  ;  and  so  his  glory  shines  most,  and  faith  hath  nothing  else  to 
look  upon  then,  whereupon  it  gathers  aU  the  forces  of  the  soul  together,  to 
fasten  upon  God. 

It  should  therefore  be  the  chief  care  of  a  Christian  to  strengthen  his  faith, 
that  so  it  may  answer  God's  manner  of  dealing  with  him  in  the  worst  times ; 
for  God  usually  (1,  that  he  might  perfectly  mortify  our  confidence  in  the 
creatm-e ;  and  2,  that  he  might  the  more  endear  his  favours  and  make  them 
fresh  and  new  unto  us  ;  and  3,  that  the  glory  of  deliverance  may  be  entirely 
his,  without  tlie  creatures  sharing  with  him ;  and  4,  that  our  faith  and 
obedience  may  be  tried  to  the  uttermost,  and  discovered)  suffers  his  children 
to  fall  into  great  extremities  before  he  will  reach  forth  his  hand  to  help 
them,  as  in  Job's  case,  &c.  Therefore  Christians  should  much  labour  their 
hearts  to  trust  in  God  in  the  deepest  extremities  that  may  befaU  them,  even 
when  no  light  of  comfort  appears  either  from  within  or  without,  yea  then 
especially,  when  all  other  comforts  fail,  Isa.  iv.  10.  Despair  is  oft  the  ground 
of  hope.  When  the  darkness  of  the  night  is  thickest,  then  the  morning  begins 
to  dawn.  Thatwhich,  to  a  man  unacquainted  with  God's  dealings,  is  a  ground 
of  utter  despair,  the  same,  to  a  man  acquainted  with  the  ways  of  God,  is  a 
rise  of  exceeding  comfort ;  for  infinite  power  and  goodness  can  never  be  at 
a  loss,  neither  can  faith  which  looks  to  that,  ever  be  at  a  stand  ;  whence  it 
is  that  both  God  and  faith  work  best  alone.  In  a  hopeless  estate  a  Christian 
will  see  some  door  of  hope  opened,  1,  because  God  shews  himself  nearest 
to  us,  when  we  stand  most  in  need  of  him  ;  '  Help,  Lord,  for  vain  is  the 
help  of  man,'  Ps.  Ix.  11.  God  is  never  more  seen  than  in  the  mount.  He 
knows  our  souls  best,  and  om'  souls  know  him  best,  in  adversity.  Ps.  xxxi.  7; 
then  he  is  most  wonderful  in  his  saints.  2.  Because  our  prayers  then  are 
strong  cries,  fervent  and  frequent.  God  is  sure  to  hear  of  us  at  such  a 
time,  which  pleaseth  him  well,  as  delighting  to  hear  the  voice  of  his  be- 
loved. 

10.  For  our  better  encouragement  in  these  sad  times,  and  to  help  our 
trust  in  God  the  more,  we  should  often  call  to  mind  thefoi-mer  experiences, 
which  either  ourselves  or  others  have  had  of  God's  goodness,  and  make  use 
of  the  same  for  our  siyiritual  good.  '  Our  fathers  trusted  in  thee,'  saith  the 
head  of  the  church, '  and  were  not  confounded,'  Ps.  xxii.  14.  God's  truth 
and  goodness  is  unchangeable,  '  he  never  leaves  those  that  trust  in  him,' 
Ps.  ix.  10.  So  likewise  in  our  own  experiences,  we  should  take  notice  of 
God's  dealings  with  us  in  sundiy  kinds;  how  many  ways  he  hath  refreshed 
us,  and  how  good  we  have  found  him  in  our  worst  times.  After  we  have 
once  tried  him  and  his  truth,  we  may  safely  trust  him.  God  wiU  stand 
upon  his  credit,  he  never  failed  any  yet,  and  he  will  not  begin  to  break  with 
us.  If  his  nature  and  his  word  and  his  former  deahng  hath  been  sure  and 
square,  why  should  our  hearts  be  wavering  ?  '  Thy  word,'  saith  the  Psalmist, 
*  is  very  pure  (or  tried),  therefore  thy  servant  loveth  it,'  Ps.  cxix.  140;  the 
word  of  God  is   *  as   silver  tried  in  the  fui-nace,  purified  seven  times/ 


THE  soul's  conflict.  217 

Ps.  xii.  6.  It  is  good  therefore  to  observe  and  lay  up  God's  dealings.  Ex- 
perience  is  nothing  else  but  a  multiplied  remembrance  of  former  blessings., 
which  will  help  to  multiply  our  faith.  Tried  truth  and  tried  faith  unto  it, 
sweetly  agree  and  answer  one  another.  It  were  a  course  much  tending  to 
the  quickening  of  the  faith  of  Christians,  if  they  would  communicate  one  to 
another  their  mutual  experiences.  This  hath  formerly  been  the  custom  of 
God's  people,  '  Come  and  hear,  all  ye  that  fear  God,  and  I  will  declare  what 
he  hath  done  for  my  soul,'  Ps.  Ixvi.  16;  and  David  urgeth  this  as  a  reason 
to  God  for  deliverance,  that  then  '  the  righteous  would  compass  him  about,' 
Ps.  cxlii.  7,  as  rejoicing  in  the  experience  of  God's  goodness  to  him.  The 
want  of  this  makes  us  upon  any  new  trial,  to  call  God's  care  and  love  into 
question,  as  if  he  had  never  formerly  been  good  unto  us ;  whereas  every 
experiment  of  God's  love  should  refresh  our  faith  upon  any  fresh  on- 
set. God  is  so  good  to  his  children  even  in  this  world,  that  he  trains  them  up 
by  daily  renewed  experiences  of  his  fatherly  care  ;  for  besides  those  many 
promises  of  good  things  to  come,  he  gives  us  some  evidence  and  taste  of 
what  we  beheve  here ;  that  by  that  which  we  feel  we  might  be  strengthened 
in  that  we  look  for,  that  so  in  both  (1,  sense  of  what  we  feel;  and  2,  cer- 
tainty of  what  we  look  for)  we  might  have  fuU  support. 

11.  But  yet  we  must  trust  God,  as  he  will  be  trusted,  namely,  in  doing 
good,  or  else  we  do  not  trust  him  but  tempt  him.  Our  commanding  of  our 
souls  to  trust  in  God,  is  but  an  echo  ot  what  God  commands  us  first ;  and 
therefore  in  the  same  manner  he  commands  us,  we  should  command  our- 
selves. As  God  commands  us  to  trust  him  in  doing  good,  so  should  we 
'  commit  our  souls  to  him  in  well  doing,'  1  Pet.  iv.  19,  and  trust  him  when 
we  are  about  his  own  works,  and  not  in  the  works  of  darkness.  We  may 
safely  expect  God  in  his  ways  of  mercy,  when  we  are  in  his  ways  of  obe- 
dience ;  for  religion,  as  it  is  a  doctrine  of  what  is  to  be  believed,  so  it  is  a 
doctrine  according  to  godliness  ;  and  the  mysteries  of  faith  are  mysteries  of 
godUness,  because  they  cannot  be  believed  but  they  will  enforce  a  godly 
conversation.  Where  any  true  impression  of  them  is,  there  is  holiness 
always  bred  in  that  soul;  therefore  a  study  of  holiness  must  go  jointly  to- 
gether with  a  study  of  trusting  in  God.  Faith  looks  not  only  to  promises, 
but  to  directions  to  duty,  and  breeds  in  the  soul  a  liking  of  whatsoever 
pleaseth  God.  There  is  a  mutual  strengthening  in  things  that  are  good ; 
trusting  stirs  to  duty,  and  duty  strengthens  trusting  by  increasing  our  hberty 
and  boldness  with  God. 

12.  Again^  we  must  maintain  in  our  souls,  a  high  esteem  of  the  grace  of 
faith,   the  very  trial  whereof  is  '  more  precious  than  gold,'  1  Pet,  i.   7. 

What  then  is  the  grace  of  faith  itself,  and  the  promises  which  it  layeth  hold 
on  ?  Certainly  they  transcend  in  worth  whatever  may  draw  us  from  God  ; 
whence  it  is  that  the  soul  sets  a  high  price  upon  them,  and  on  faith  that 
believes  them.  It  is  impossible  that  anything  in  the  world  should  come 
betwixt  the  heart  and  those  things,  if  once  we  truly  lay  hold  on  them,  to 
undermine  faith  or  the  comfort  we  have  by  it.  The  heart  is  never  drawn 
to  any  sinful  vanity,  or  frighted  with  any  terror  of  trouble,  till  faith  first 
loseth  the  sight  and  estimation  of  divine  things,  and  forgets  the  necessity 
and  excellency  of  them.  Our  Saviour  Christ,  when  he  would  stir  up  a 
desire  of  faith  in  his  disciples,  Luke  xvii.  6,  shewed  them  the  power  and 
excellency  of  the  same.  Great  things  stir  up  faith,  and  keep  it  above,  and 
faith  keeps  the  soul  that  nothing  else  can  take  place  of  abode  in  it.  When 
the  '  great  things  of  God,'  Hos.  viii.  12,  are  brought  into  the  heart  by  faith, 
what  is  there  in  the  whole  world  that  can  out-bid  them  ?  assurance  of  these 


218  THE  soul's  oonpliot. 

things,  upon  spiritual  grounds,  overrules  both  sense  and  reason,  or  what 
ever  else  prevails  with  carnal  hearts. 


Chapter  XIX. — Faith  to  be  prized,  and  other  things  undervalued, 
at  least  not  to  be  trusted  to  as  the  chief. 

That  faith  may  take  the  better  place  in  the  soul,  and  the  soul  in  God,  the 
heart  must  continually  be  taught  of  what  httle  worth  all  things  else  are, 
as  reputation,  riches,  and  pleasures,  &c.  ;  and  to  see  their  nothingness  in 
the  word  of  God,  and  in  experience  of  ourselves  and  others,  that  so  our 
heart  being  weaned  from  these  things,  may  open  itself  to  God,  and  embrace 
things  of  a  higher  nature.  Otherwise  baser  things  will  be  nearer  the  soul 
than  faith,  and  keep  possession  against  it,  so  that  faith  will  not  be  suffered 
to  set  up  a  throne  in  the  heart.  There  must  be  an  unloosing  of  the  heart, 
as  well  as  a  fastening  of  it,  and  God  helps  us  in  both ;  for,  besides  the 
word  discovermg  the  vanity  of  all  things  else  out  of  God,  the  main  scope  of 
God's  dealing  with  his  children  in  any  danger  or  affliction  whatsoever,  is  to 
embitter  all  other  things  but  himself  unto  them.  Indeed  it  is  the  power  of 
God  properly  which  makes  the  heart  to  trust,  but  yet  the  Spirit  of  God 
useth  this  way  to  bring  all  things  else  out  of  request  with  us  in  comparison 
of  those  inestimable  good  things,  which  the  soul  is  created,  redeemed,  and 
sanctified  for.  God  is  very  jealous  of  our  trust,  and  can  endiu-e  no  idol  of 
jealousy  to  be  set  up  in  our  hearts.  Therefore  it  behoves  us  to  take  notice, 
not  only  of  the  deceitfulness  of  things,  but  of  the  deceitfulness  of  our  hearts 
in  the  use  of  them.  Our  hearts  naturally  hang  loose  from  God,  and  are 
soon  ready  to  join  with  the  creature.  Now  the  more  we  observe  our  hearts 
in  this,  the  more  we  take  them  off,  and  labour  to  set  them  where  they 
should  be  placed ;  for  the  more  we  know  these  things,  the  less  we  shall 
trust  them. 

Obj.  But  may  we  not  trust  in  riches,  and  friends,  and  other  outward 
helps  at  all  ? 

Ans.  Yes,  so  far  as  they  are  subordinate  to  God,  our  chief  stay,  with  re- 
servation and  submission  to  the  Lord  ;  only  so  far,  and  so  long  as  it  shall 
please  him  to  use  them  for  our  good.  Because  God  ordinarily  conveys  his 
help  and  goodness  to  us  by  some  creature,  we  must  trust  in  God  to  bless 
every  mercy  we  enjoy,  and  to  make  all  helps  serviceable  to  his  love  towards 
us.  In  a  word,  we  must  trust  and  use  them  in  and  under  God,  and  so  as 
if  all  were  taken  away,  yet  to  think  God,  being  all-sufficient,  can  do  without 
them,  whatsoever  he  doth  by  them,  for  our  good.  Faith  preserves  the 
chastity  of  the  soul,  and  cleaving  to  God  is  a  spiritual  debt  which  it  oweth 
to  him,  whereas  cleaving  to  the  creature  is  spiritual  adultery. 

It  is  an  error  in  the  foundation  to  substitute  false  objects  in  religion,  or 
in  Christian  conversation ;  for,  1,  in  religion;  trusting  in  false  objects,  as 
saints,  and  works,  &c.,  breeds  false  worship,  and  falg6  Worship-TFeeds 
Idolatry,  and  so  God's  jealousy  and  hatred.  2.  In  Christian  conversation ; 
false  objects  of  trust  breed  false  comforts  and  tme  fears  ;  for  in  what 
measure  we  trust  in  anything  that  is  uncertain,  in  the  same  measure  will 
our  grief  be  when  it  fails  us.  The  more  men  rely  upon  deceitful  crutches, 
the  greater  is  their  fall.  God  can  neither  endure  false  objects,  nor  a 
double  object,  as  hath  been  shewed,  for  a  man  to  rely  upon  anything  equally 
in  the  same  rank  with  himself.  For  the  propounding  of  a  double  object, 
argues  a  double  heart,  and  a  double  heart  is  always  unsettled,  James  i.  8 ; 


I 


THE  soul's  conflict.  219 

for  it  will  regard  God  no  longer  than  it  can  enjoy  that  wMch  it  joins 
together  with  him.  Therefore  it  is  said,  *  You  cannot  serve  two  masters,' 
Luke  xvi.  13,  not  subordinate  one  to  another  ;  whence  it  was  that  our 
Saviour  told  those  worldly  men  which  followed  him,  '  that  they  could  not 
believe  in  him,  because  they  sought  honour  one  of  another,'  John  v.  44  ; 
and  in  case  of  competition,  if  their  honour  and  reputation  should  come  into 
question,  they  would  be  sure  to  be  false  to  Christ,  and  rather  part  with  him 
than  their  own  credit  and  esteem  in  the  world. 

David  here,  by  charging  his  soul  to  trust  in  God,  saw  there  was  nothing 
else  that  could  bring  true  rest  and  quiet  unto  him  ;  for  whatsoever  is 
besides  God  is  but  a  creature  ;  and  whatever  is  in  the  creature  is  but 
borrowed  and  at  God's  disposing,  and  changeable,  or  else  it  were  not  a 
creature.  David  saw  his  error  soon,  for  the  ground  of  his  disquiet  was 
trusting  something  else  besides  God  ;  therefore  when  he  began  to  say,  '  My 
hill  is  strong,  I  shall  not  be  moved,'  &c.,  Ps.  xxx.  6,  then  presently  his 
soul  was  troubled.  Out  of  God  there  is  nothing  fit  for  the  soul  to  stay 
itself  upon  ;  for, 

1.  Outward  things  are  not  fitted  to  ihp.  Rpirifnal  Tmfnro  nf  t.Ti<>  annl  They 
are  dead  things  and  cannot  touch  it,  being  a  lively  spirit,  unless  by  way  of 
taint. 

2.  They  are  beneath  the  worth  of  the  soul,  and  therefore  debase  the 
soul,  and  di-aw  it  lower  than  itself ;  as  a  noble  woman,  by  matching  with  a 
mean  person,  much  injures  herself,  especially  when  higher  matches  are 
ofiered.  Earthly  things  are  not  given  for  stays  wholly  to  rest  on,  but  for 
comforts  in  our  way  to  heaven.  They  are  no  more  fit  for  the  soul,  than 
that  which  hath  many  angles  is  fit  to  fill  up  that  which  is  round,  which  it 
cannot  do,  because  of  the  unevenness  and  void  places  that  will  remain. 
Outward  things  are  never  so  well  fitted  for  the  soul,  but  that  the  soul  will 
presently  see  some  voidness  and  emptiness  in  them,  and  in  itself  in  cleaving 
to  them ;  for  that  which  shall  be  a  fit  object  for  the  soul,  must  be,  1,  for  the 
nature  of  it  spiritual,  as  the  soul  itself  is ;  2,  constant ;  3,  fall  and  satis- 
fj'ing ;  4,  of  equal  continuance  with  it ;  and  5,  always  yielding  fi"esh  con- 
tents. We  cast  away  flowers,  after  once  we  have  had  the  sweetness  of 
them,  because  there  is  not  still  a  fresh  supply  of  sweetness.  Whatever 
comfort  is  in  the  creature,  the  soul  will  spend  quickly,  and  look  still  for 
more ;  whereas  the  comfort  we  have  in  God  is  *  undefiled  and  fadeth  not 
away,'  1  Peter  i.  4.  How  can  we  trust  to  that  for  comfort,  which  by  very 
trusting  proves  uncomfortable  to  us  ?  Outward  things  are  only  so  far  forth 
good,  as  we  do  not  trust  in  them.  Thorns  may  be  touched,  but  not  rested 
on,  for  then  they  will  pierce.  We  must  not  set  our  hearts  upon  things 
which  are  never  evil  to  us,  but  when  we  '  set  our  hearts  upon  them,'  Ps. 
kii.  10. 

By  trusting  anything  but  God,  we  make  it,  1,  an  idol;  2,  a  curse,  and 
not  a  blessing,  Jer.  xvii.  5 ;  3 ;  it  will  prove  a  lying  vanity,  not  yielding 
that  good  which  we  look  for ;  and  4,  a  vexation,  bringing  that  evil  upon  us 
we  look  not  for. 

Of  all  men  Solomon  was  the  fittest  to  judge  of  this,  because,  1,  he  had  a 
large  heart,  able  to  comprehend  the  variety  of  things  ;  and  2,  being  a 
mighty  king,  had  advantages  of  procuring  all  outward  things  that  might 
give  him  satisfaction  ;  and  3,  he  had  a  desire  answerable,  to  search  out  and 
extract  whatever  good  the  creature  could  yield.  And  yet,  upon  the  trial  of 
aU,  he  passeth  this  verdict  upon  all,  that  they  are  but  '  vanity,'  Eccles. 
i.  2.    Whilst  he  laboured  to  find  that  which  he  sought  for  in  them,  he  had 


220  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

like  to  have  lost  himself;  and  seeking  too  much  to  strengthen  himself  by 
foreign  combination,  he  weakened  himself  the  more  thereby,  untU  he  came 
to  know  where  the  '  whole  of  man  consists,'  Eccles.  xii.  13.  So  that  now 
we  need  not  try  further  conclusions  after  the  peremptory  sentence  of  so 
wise  a  man. 

But  our  nature  is  stUl  apt  to  think  there  is  some  secret  good  in  the  for- 
bidden fruit,  and  to  buy  wisdom  dearly  when  we  might  have  it  at  a  cheaper 
rate,  even  from  former  universal  experience. 

It  is  a  matter  both  to  be  wondered  at  and  pitied,  that  the  soul  having 
God  in  Christ  set  before  it,  alluring  it  unto  him,  that  he  might  raise  it,  en- 
large it,  and  fill  it,  and  so  make  it  above  all  other  things,  should  yet  de- 
base and  make  itself  narrower  and  weaker  by  leaning  to  things  meaner  than 
itself. 

The  kingdom,  sovereignty,  and  large  command  of  man  continueth  while 
he  rests  upon  God,  in  whom  he  reigns,  in  some  sort,  over  all  things  under 
him ;  but  so  soon  as  he  removes  from  God  to  anything  else,  he  becomes 
weak,  and  narrow,  and  slavish  presently;  for, 

The  soul  is  as  that  which  it  relies  upon.  If  on  vanity,  itself  becomes 
vain ;  for  that  which  contents  the  soul  must  satisfy  all  the  wants  and  de- 
sires of  it,  which  no  particular  thing  can  do,  and  the  soul  is  more  sensible 
of  a  little  thing  that  it  wants  than  of  all  other  things  which  it  enjoys. 

But  see  the  insufficiency  of  aU  other  things,  out  of  God,  to  support  the 
soul  in  their  several  degrees.  1.  First,  aU  outward  things  can  make  a  man 
no  happier  than  outward  things  can  do ;  they  cannot  reach  beyond  their 
proper  sphere ;  but  our  greatest  grievances  are  spiritual.  2.  And  as  for 
inward  things,  whether  gifts  or  graces,  they  cannot  be  a  sufficient  stay  for 
the  mind ;  for  (1),  Gifts,  as  policy  and  wisdom,  &c.,  they  are,  at  the 
best,  very  defective,  especially  when  we  trust  in  them,  for  wisdom  makes 
men  often  to  rebel,  and  thereupon  God  deUghteth  to  blast  their  projects, 
Isa.  xlvii.  10.  None  miscarry  oftener  than  men  of  the  greatest  parts,  as 
none  are  oftener  drowned  than  those  that  axe  most  skilfiil  in  swimming,  be- 
cause it  makes  them  confident. 

And  for  grace,  though  it  be  the  beginning  of  a  new  creature  in  us,  yet  it 
is  but  a  creature,  and  therefore  not  to  be  trusted  ir  nay,  by  trusting  iu  it 
we  imbase  it,  and  make  it  more  imperfect.  So  tu:  as  there  is  truth  of 
grace,  it  breeds  distrust  of  ourselves,  and  carries  the  soul  out  of  itself  to 
the  fountain  of  strength. 

3.  And  for  any  works  that  proceed  from  grace,  by  trusting  thereunto 
they  prove  like  the  reed  of  Egypt,  which  not  only  deceives  us,  but  hurts  us 
with  the  splinters.  Good  works  are  good,  but  confidence  in  them  is  hurt- 
ful ;  and  there  is  more  of  our  own  in  them,  for  the  most  part,  to  humble 
us,  than  of  God's  Spirit  to  embolden  us  so  far  as  to  trust  in  them.  Alas ! 
they  have  nothing  from  us  but  weakness  and  defilement,  and  therefore 
since  the  fall  God  would  have  the  object  of  our  trust  to  be  out  of  ourselves 
in  him,  and  to  that  purpose  he  useth  all  means  to  take  us  out  of  ourselves 
and  from  the  creature,  that  he  only  might  be  our  trust. 

4.  Yea,  we  must  not  trust  itself,  but  God  whom  it  reKes  on,  who  is 
therefore  called  our  trust.  All  the  glorious  things  that  are  spoken  of  trust 
are  only  made  good  by  God  in  Christ,  who,  as  trusted,  doth  all  for  us. 

God  hath  prescribed  trust  as  the  way  to  carry  our  souls  to  himself,  in 
whom  we  should  only  rely,  and  not  in  our  imperfect  trust,  which  hath  its 
ebbing  and  flowing.  Neither  will  trust  in  God  himself  for  the  present 
suffice  us  for  future  strength  and  grace,  as  if  trusting  in  God  to-day  would 


THE  soul's  conflict.  221 

suffice  to  strengthen  us  for  to-morrow ;  but  we  must  renew  our  trust  for 
fresh  supply  upon  every  fresh  occasion.  So  that  we  see  God  alone  must 
be  the  object  of  our  trust. 

There  is  still  left  in  man's  nature  a  desire  of  pleasure,  profit,  and  of 
whatever  the  creature  presents  as  good,  but  the  desire  of  gracious  good  is 
altogether  lost,  the  soul  being  whoUy  infected  with  a  contrary  taste.  Man 
hath  a  nature  capable  of  excellency  and  desirous  of  it,  and  the  Spirit  of 
God  in  and  by  the  word  reveals  where  true  excellency  is  to  be  had ;  but 
corrupt  nature  leaving  God  seeketh  it  elsewhere,  and  so  crosseth  its  own 
desires,  tiU  the  Spirit  of  God  discovers  where  these  things  are  to  be  had, 
and  so  nature  is  brought  to  its  right  frame  again  by  turning  the  stream 
into  the  right  current.  Grace  and  sinful  nature  have  the  same  general 
object  of  comfort,  only  sinful  nature  seeks  it  in  broken  cisterns,  and  grace 
in  the  fountain,  Jer.  ii.  13.  The  beginning  of  our  true  happiness  is  fi'om 
the  discovery  of  true  and  false  objects,  so  as  the  soul  may  clearly  see  what 
is  best  and  safest,  and  then  stedfastly  rely  upon  it. 

It  were  an  happy  way  to  make  the  soul  better  acquainted  with  trust- 
ing in  God,  to  labour  to  subdue  at  the  first  all  unruly  inchnations  of  the 
Boul  to  earthly  things,  and  to  take  advantage  of  the  first  tenderness  of 
the  soul  to  weed  out  that  which  is  ill,  and  to  plant  knowledge  and  love  of 
the  best  things  in  it ;  otherwise,  where  affections  to  anything  below  get 
much  strength  in  the  soul,  it  will  by  Httle  and  little  be  so  overgrown  that 
there  will  be  no  place  left  in  it  either  for  object  or  act,  God  or  trust.  God 
cannot  come  to  take  his  place  in  the  heart  by  trust,  but  where  the  powers 
of  the  soul  are  brought  under,  to  regard  him  and  those  great  things  he 
brings  with  him  above  all  things  else  in  the  world  besides. 

In  these  glorious  times  wherein  so  great  a  light  shineth,  whereby  so  great 
things  are  discovered,  what  a  shame  is  it  to  be  so  narrow-hearted  as  to  fix 
upon  present  things.  Our  aims  and  affections  should  be  suitable  to  the 
things  themselves  set  before  us.  Our  hearts  should  be  more  and  more 
enlarged,  as  things  are  more  and  more  revealed  to  us.  We  see  in  the 
things  of  this  life,  as  wisdom  and  experience  increaseth,  so  our  aims  and 
desires  increase  Ukewise.  A  young  beginner  thinks  it  a  great  matter  if  he 
have  a  httle  to  begin  withal,  but  as  he  gi'ows  in  trading,  and  seeth  further 
ways  of  getting,  his  thoughts  and  desires  are  raised  higher.  Children 
think  as  children,  but  riper  age  puts  away  childishness,  1  Cor.  xiii.  11, 
when  their  understandings  are  enlarged  to  see  what  they  did  not  see  before. 
We  should  never  rest  till  our  hearts,  according  to  the  measure  of  revelation 
of  those  excellent  things  which  God  hath  for  us,  have  answerable  apprehen- 
sion of  the  same.  Oh,  if  we  had  but  faith  to  answer  those  glorious  truths 
which  God  hath  revealed,  what  manner  of  hves  should  we  lead ! 


Chapter  XX. — OJ  the  method  of  trusting  in  God ;  and  the  trial  of  that  trust, 

13.  Lastly,  to  add  no  more,  our  trusting  in  God  should  folloiv  God's  order  in 
promising.  The  first  promise  is  of  forgiveness  of  sin  to  repentant  believers ; 
next,  2,  of  healing  and  sanctifying  grace ;  then,  3,  the  inheritance  of  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  to  them  that  are  sanctified  ;  4,  and  then  the  promises 
of  all  things  needful  in  our  way  to  the  kingdom,  &c.  Now  answerably,  the 
soul  being  enlightened  to  see  its  danger,  should  look  first  to  God's  mercy 
in  Chi'ist  pardoning  sin,  because  sin  only  divides  betwixt  God  and  the  soul ; 
next  to  the  promises  of  grace  for  the  leading  of  a  Christian  Ufe,  for  true 


222  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

faith  desires  healing  mercy  as  well  as  pardoning  mercy,  and  then  to  heaven 
and  all  things  that  may  bring  us  thither. 

By  all  this  we  see  that  it  is  not  so  easy  a  matter  as  the  world  takes  it,  to 
bring  God  and  the  soul  together  by  trusting  on  him.  It  must  be  effected 
by  the  mighty  power  of  God,  raising  up  the  soul  to  himself,  to  lay  hold 
upon  the  glorious  power,  goodness,  and  other  excellencies  that  are  in  him, 
Eph.  i.  20.  God  is  not  only  the  object,  but  the  working  cause  of  our 
trust ;  for  such  is  our  proneness  to  live  by  sense  and  natural  reason,  and 
such  is  the  strangeness  and  height  of  divine  things,  such  our  inclination  to 
a  self-sufficiency  and  contentment  in  the  creature,  and  so  hard  a  matter  ia 
it  to  take  off  the  soul  from  false  bottoms,  by  reason  of  our  unacquaiutance 
with  God  and  his  ways ;  besides,  such  guilt  still  remains  upon  our  souls 
for  our  rebelUon  and  unkindness  towards  God,  that  it  makes  us  afraid  to 
entertain  serious  thoughts  of  him  ;  and  so  great  is  the  distance  betwixt  his 
infinite  majesty,  before  whom  the  very  angels  do  cover  their  faces,  and  us, 
by  reason  of  the  unspiritualness  of  our  nature,  being  opposite  to  his  most 
absolute  purity,  that  we  cannot  be  brought  to  any  familiarity  with  the  Lord, 
so  as  to  come  into  his  holy  presence  with  confidence  to  rely  upon  him,  or 
any  comfort  to  have  communion  with  him,  till  our  hearts  be  sanctified  and 
hfted  up  by  divine  vigour  infused  into  them. 

Though  there  be  some  inclination,  by  reason  of  the  remainder  of  the 
image  of  God  in  us,  to  an  outward  moral  obedience  of  the  law,  yet,  alas, 
we  have  not  only  no  seeds  of  evangeHcal  truths  and  of  faith  to  believe  them, 
but  an  utter  contrariety  in  our  natures,  as  corrupted,  either  to  this,  or  any 
other  good.  When  our  conscience  is  once  awaked,  we  meditate  nothing 
but  fears  and  terrors,  and  dare  not  so  much  as  think  of  an  angry  God,  but 
rather  how  we  may  escape  and  fly  from  him.  Therefore,  together  with  a 
deep  consideration  of  the  grounds  we  have  of  trusting  God,  it  is  necessary 
we  should  think  of  the  indisposition  of  our  hearts  unto  it,  especially  when 
there  is  greatest  need  thereof,  that  so  our  hearts  may  be  forced  to  put  up 
that  petition  of  the  disciples  to  God,  '  Lord,  increase  our  faith,'  Luke  xvii. 
5  ;  Lord,  help  us  against  our  unbelieving  hearts,  &c.  By  prayer  and  holy 
thoughts  stirred  up  in  the  use  of  the  means,  we  shall  feel  divine  strength 
infused  and  conveyed  into  our  souls  to  trust. 

The  more  care  we  ought  to  have  to  maintain  our  trust  in  God,  because, 
besides  the  hardness  of  it,  it  is  a  radical  and  fundamental  grace ;  it  is,  as 
it  were,  the  mother-root  and  great  vein  whence  the  exercise  of  all  graces 
have  their  beginning  and  strength.  The  decay  of  a  plant,  though  it  appears 
fijst  from  the  withering  of  the  twigs  and  branches,  yet  it  arises  chiefly  from 
a  decay  in  the  root ;  so  the  decay  of  grace  may  appear  to  the  view,  fii'st  in 
our  company,  carriage,  and  speeches,  &c. ;  but  the  primitive  and  original 
ground  of  the  same  is  weakness  of  faith  in  the  heart ;  therefore,  it  should 
be  our  wisdom,  especially,  to  look  to  the  feeding  of  the  root.  We  must,  1, 
Look  that  our  principles  and  foundation  be  good ;  and,  2,  Build  strongly 
upon  them;  and,  3,  Repair  our  building  every  day  as  continual  breaches 
shall  be  made  upon  us,  either  by  corruptions  and  temptations  from  within 
or  without ;  and  we  shall  find  that  the  main  breaches  of  our  lives  arise 
either  from  false  principles  or  doubts,  or  mindlessness  of  those  that  are 
true.  All  sin  is  a  turning  of  the  soul  from  God  to  some  other  seeming 
good,  but  this  proceeds  from  a  former  turning  of  the  soul  from  God  by  dis- 
trust. As  faith  is  the  first  return  of  the  soul  to  God,  so  the  fijst  degree  of 
departing  from  God  is  by  infidelity,  and  from  thence  comes  a  departure  by 
other  sins,  by  which,  as  sin  is  of  a  winding  nature,  our  unbelief  more  ia- 


THE  soul's  conflict.  223 

creaseth,  and  so  the  rent  and  breach  betwixt  our  souls  and  God  is  made 
greater  still,  which  is  that  Satan  would  have,  till  at  length,  by  departing 
further  and  further  from  him,  we  come  to  have  that  peremptory  sentence  of 
everlasting  departure  pronounced  against  us ;  so  that  our  departure  from 
God  now  is  a  degree  to  separation  for  ever  from  him.  Therefore,  it  is 
Satan's  main  care  to  come  between  God  and  the  soul,  that  so  unloosing  us 
from  God,  we  might  more  easily  be  drawn  to  other  things  ;  and  if  he  draws 
us  to  other  things,  it  is  but  only  to  unloose  our  hearts  from  God  the  more  ; 
for  he  well  knows,  whilst  oui*  souls  cleave  close  to  God,  there  is  no  prevail- 
ing against  us  by  any  created  policy  or  power. 

It  was  the  cursed  policy  of  Balaam  to  advise  Balak  to  draw  the  people 
from  God,  by  fornication,  that  so  God  might  be  drawn  from  them.  The 
sin  of  their  base  affections  crept  into  the  very  spirits  of  their  mind,  and  drew 
them  from  God  to  idolatry.  Bodily  adultery  makes  way  for  spiritual.  An 
imbelieving  heart  is  an  ill  heart,  and  a  treacherous  heart,  because  it  makes 
us  to  '  depart  from  God,  the  living  God,'  &c.,  Heb.  iii.  12.  Therefore  we 
should  especially  take  heed  of  it  as  we  love  our  lives,  yea,  om:  best  Kfe, 
which  ariseth  from  the  union  of  our  souls  with  God. 

None  so  opposed  as  a  Christian,  and  in  a  Christian  nothing  so  opposed 
as  his  faith,  because  it  opposeth  whatsoever  opposes  God,  both  within  and 
without  us.  It  captivates  and  brings  under  whatsoever  rises  up  against  God 
in  the  heart,  and  sets  itself  against  whatsoever  makes  head  against  the  soul. 

And  because  mistake  is  very  dangerous,  and  we  are  prone  to  conceive  that 
to  trust  in  God  is  an  easy  matter,  therefore  it  is  needful  that  we  should  have 
a  right  conceit  of  this  trust,  what  it  is,  and  how  it  may  be  discerned,  lest 
we  trust  to  an  untrusty  trust,  and  to  an  unsteady  stay. 

"We  may  by  what  hath  been  said  before,  partly  discern  the  nature  of  it, 
to  be  nothing  else  but  an  exercise  of  faith,  whereby  looking  to  God  in  Christ 
through  the  promises,  we  take  off  our  souls  from  all  other  supports,  and  lay 
them  upon  God  for  deliverance  and  upholding  in  all  ill,  present  or  future, 
felt  or  feared,  and  the  obtaining  of  all  good,  which  God  sees  expedient  for  us. 

1.  Now  that  we  may  discern  the  truth  of  our  trust  in  God  the  better,  we 
must  know,  that  true  trust  is  wHUng  to  be  tried  and  searched,  and  can  say 
to  tiod  as  l)avid,  '  JNow,  Liord,  wJiat  wait  1  lor,  my  nope  is  m  tJiee,'  Ps. 
xxxix.  7  ;  and  as  it  is  willing  to  come  to  trial,  so  it  is  able  to  endure  trial, 
and  to  hold  out  in  opposition,  as  appears  in  David.  If  faith  hath  a  promise, 
it  will  rely  and  rest  upon  it,  say  flesh  and  blood  what  it  can  to  the  contrary. 
True  faith  is  as  large  as  the  promise,  and  will  take  God's  part  against  what- 
soever opposes  it. 

2.  And  as  faith  singles  not  out  one  part  of  divine  truth  to  believe  and  rejects 
another,  so  it  rehes  upon  God  for  every  good  thing,  one  as  well  as  another ; 
the  ground  whereof  is  this,  the  same  love  of  God  that  intends  us  heaven, 
intends  us  a  supply  of  all  necessaries  that  may  bring  us  thither. 

A  child  that  beUeves  his  father  will  make  him  heir,  doubts  not  but  he 
will  provide  him  food  and  nourishment,  and  give  him  breeding  suitable  to 
his  future  condition.  Fides  non  eligit  ohjectum.  It  is  a  vain  pretence  to 
believe  that  God  will  give  us  heaven,  and  yet  leave  us  to  shift  for  ourselves 
in  the  way. 

3.  Where  trust  is  rightly  planted,  it  gives  boldness  to  the  soul  in  going 
to  God  ;  for  (1)  it  is  grounded  upon  the  discovery  of  God's  love  first  to  us, 
and  seeth  a  warrant  from  him  for  whatsoever  it  trusts  him  for.  Though  the 
things  themselves  be  never  so  great,  yet  they  are  no  greater  than  God  is 
willing  to  bestow.     Again,  (2)  trust  is  bold  because  it  is  grounded  upon 


224  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT.  ' 

the  worthiness  of  a  mediator,  who  hath  made  way  to  God's  favour  for  us, 
and  appears  now  in  heaven  to  maintain  it  towards  us. 

4.  Yet  this  boldness  is  with  humility,  which  carries  the  soul  out  of  itself; 
and  that  boldness  which  the  soul  by  trust  hath  with  God,  is  from  God  him- 
self. It  hath  nothing  to  allege  from  itself  but  its  own  emptiness  and  God's 
fulness,  its  own  sinfulness  and  God's  mercy,  its  own  humble  obedience  and 
God's  command ;  hence  it  is  that  the  true  believer's  heart  is  not  lifted  up, 
nor  swells  with  self-confidence ;  as  trust  comes  in,  that  goes  out.  Trust 
is  never  planted,  and  grows  but  in  an  humble  and  low  soul.  Trust  is  a 
holy  motion  of  the  soul  to  God,  and  motion  arises  from  want.  Those,  and 
those  only,  seek  out  abroad  that  want  succour  at  home.  Motus  ex  indigentia. 
Plants  move  not  from  place  to  place,  because  they  find  nourishment  where 
they  stand ;  but  living  creatures  seek  abroad  for  their  food,  and  for  that 
end  have  a  power  of  moving  from  place  to  place.  And  this  is  the  reason 
why  trust  is  expressed  by  going  to  God. 

5.  Hereupon  trust  is  a  dependent  grace,  answerable  to  our  dependent 
condition.  It  looks  upon  all  things  it  hath  or  desires  to  have  as  coming 
from  God  and  his  free  grace  and  power.  It  desireth  not  only  wisdom,  but 
to  be  wise  in  his  wisdom,  to  see  in  his  light,  to  be  strong  in  his  strength. 
The  thing  itself  contents  not  this  grace  of  trust,  but  God's  blessing  and 
love  in  the  thing.  It  cares  not  for  anything  further  than  it  can  have  it  with 
God's  favour  and  good  liking. 

6.  Hence  it  is  that  trust  is  an  obsequious*  and  an  observing  grace, 
stirring  up  the  soul  to  a  desire  of  pleasing  God  in  all  things,  and  to  a  fear 
of  displeasing  him.  He  that  pretends  to  trust  the  Lord  in  a  course  of 
offending  may  trust  to  this,  that  God  will  meet  him  in  another  way  than 
he  looks  for.  He  that  is  a  tenant  at  courtesy  wiU  not  offend  his  lord. 
Hence  it  is  that  the  apostle  enforceth  that  exhortation  to  work  out  our  sal- 
vation with  fear  and  trembling,  Phil.  ii.  12,  13,  because  it  is  God  that 
worketh  the  will  and  the  deed,  and  according  to  his  good  pleasure,  not  om's. 
Therefore  faith  is  an  effectual  working  grace ;  it  works  in  heaven  with  God, 
it  works  within  us,  commanding  all  the  powers  of  the  soul ;  it  works  with- 
out us,  conquering  whatsoever  is  in  the  world  on  the  right  hand  to  draw  us 
from  God,  or  on  the  left  hand  to  discourage  us  ;  it  works  against  hell  and 
the  powers  of  darkness  ;  and  all  by  virtue  of  trusting,  as  it  draweth  strength 
from  God.  It  stirs  up  all  other  graces,  and  keeps  them  in  exercise,  and 
thereupon  the  acts  of  other  graces  are  attributed  to  faith,  as  Heb.  xi.  It 
breeds  a  holy  jealousy  over  ourselves,  lest  we  give  God  just  cause  to  stop 
the  influence  of  his  grace  towards  us,  so  to  let  us  see  that  we  stand  not 
by  our  own  strength.  Those  that  take  liberty  in  things  they  either  know  or 
doubt  will  displease  God,  shew  they  want  the  fear  of  God ;  and  this  want  of 
fear  shews  their  want  of  dependency,  and  therefore  want  of  trust.  Depend- 
ency is  always  very  respective ;  f  it  studieth  contentment  and  care  to  com- 
ply. This  was  it  made  '  Enoch  walk  with  God,  and  study  how  to 
please  him,'  Heb.  xi.  5.  When  we  know  nothing  can  do  us  good  or  hurt 
but  God,  it  draws  our  chief  care  to  approve  oui'selves  to  him.  Obedience 
of  faith  and  obedience  of  hfe  will  go  together ;  and  therefore  he  that  com- 
mits his  soul  to  God  to  save,  will  commit  his  soul  to  God  to  sanctify  and 
guide  in  a  way  of  well  pleasing,  1  Peter  iv.  19.  Not  only  the  tame,  but 
most  savage  creatures,  will  be  at  the  beck  of  those  that  feed  them,  though 
they  are  ready  to  fall  violently  upon  others.  Disobedience,  therefore,  is 
against  the  principles  of  nature. 

*  That  is,  complying,  yielding.— G.  f  That  is,  'resppctful.'— Ed. 


U 


THE  soul's  conflict.  225 

7.  This  dependency  is  either  in  the  use  of  means,  or  else  when  means 
fail  us.  True  dependency  is  exactly  careful  of  aU  means.  When  God 
hath  set  down  a  course  of  means,  we  must  not  expect  that  God  should 
alter  his  ordinaiy  course  of  providence  for  us ;  deserved  disappointment 
is  the  fruit  of  this  presumptuous  confidence.  The  more  we  depend  on  a 
■wise  physician,  the  more  we  shall  observe  his  directions,  and  be  careful 
to  use  what  he  prescribes ;  yet  we  must  use  the  means  as  means,  and  not 
set  them  in  God's  room,  for  that  is  the  way  to  blast  our  hopes.  The  way 
to  have  anything  taken  away  and  not  blest,  is  to  set  our  heart  too  much 
upon  it.  Too  much  grief  in  parting  with  anything,  shews  too  much  trust 
in  the  enjo^-ing  of  it ;  and  therefore  ho  that  uses  the  means  in  faith,  will 
ahvays  join  prayer  unto  God,  from  whom,  as  evory  good  thing  comes,  so 
likewise  doth  the  blessing  and  success  thereof.  Where  much  endeavour  is 
and  Httle  seeking  to  God,  it  shews  there  is  Httle  trust.  The  widow  that 
trusted  in  God,  continued  likewise  '  in  prayers  day  and  night,'  1  Tim.  v.  5. 

The  best  discovery  of  our  not  relying  too  much  on  means  is,  when  all 
means  fail,  if  we  can  still  rely  upon  God,  as  being  still  where  he  was,  and 
hath  ways  of  his  own  for  helping  of  us,  either  immediately  from  himself, 
or  by  setting  awork  other  means,  and  those  perhaps  very  unlikely,  such 
as  we  think  not  of.  God  hath  ways  of  his  own.  Abraham  never  honoured 
God  more  than  when  he  trusted  in  God  for  a  son  against  the  course  of 
nature ;  and  when  he  had  a  son,  was  ready  to  sacrifice  him,  upon  con- 
fidence that  God  would  raise  him  from  the  dead  again,  Gen.  ii.  2.  This 
was  the  ground  upon  which  Daniel,  with  such  great  authority,  reproved 
Belshazzar,  that  he  had  not  a  care  to  glorify  God,  in  whose  hands  '  his  breath 
was,  and  all  his  ways,'  Dan.  v.  23.  The  greatest  honour  we  can  do  unto 
God,  is  when  we  see  nothing,  but  rather  all  contrary  to  that  we  look  for, 
then  to  shut  our  eyes  to  inferior  things  below,  and  look  altogether  upon 
his  all-sufiiciency.  God  can  convey  himself  more  comfortably  to  us  when 
he  pleaseth,  without  means  than  by  means.  True  trust,  as  it  sets  God 
highest  in  the  soul,  so  in  danger  and  wants  it  hath  present  recourse  to 
him,  as  the  conies  to  the  rocks,  Prov.  xxx.  26. 

8.  And  because  God's  times  and  seasons  are  the  best,  it  is  an  evidence 
of  true  trust  when  we  can  wait  God's  leisure  and  not  make  haste,  and  eo 
run  before  God ;  for  else  the  more  haste  the  worse  speed.  God  seldom 
makes  any  promise  to  his  children  but  he  exerciseth  their  trust  in  waiting 
long  before,  as  David  for  a  kingdom,  Abraham  for  a  son,  the  whole  world 
for  Christ's  coming,  &c. 

9.  One  main  evidence  of  true  trust  in  God  is  here  in  the  text;  we  see 
here  it  hath  a  quieting  and  stilling  virtue,  for  it  stays  the  soul  upon  the 
fulness  of  God's  love,  joined  with  his  abihty  to  supply  our  wants  and  re- 
lieve our  necessities,  though  faith  doth  not,  at  the  first  especially,  so  stay 
the  soul  as  to  take  away  all  suspicious  fears  of  the  contrary.  There  be  so 
many  things  in  trouble  that  press  upon  the  soul,  as  hinder  the  joining  of  God 
and  it  together,  yet  the  prevailing  of  our  unbelief  is  taken  away,  the  reign 
of  it  is  broken.  K  the  touch  of  Christ  in  his  abasement  on  earth  drew 
virtue  from  him,  Mark  v.  30,  certain  it  is  that  faith  cannot  touch  Christ  in 
heaven  but  it  will  draw  a  quieting  and  sanctified  virtue  from  him,  which 
will  in  some  measure  stop  the  issues  of  an  unquiet  spirit.  The  needle  in 
the  compass  will  stand  north,  though  with  some  trembling. 

A  ship  that  lies  at  anchor  may  be  something  tossed,  but  yet  it  still 
remains  so  fastened,  that  it  cannot  be  carried  away  by  wind  or  weather. 
The  soul,  after  it  hath  cast  anchor  upon  God,  may,  as  we  see  here  in  David, 

VOL.  I.  p 


226  THE  soul's  conflict. 

be  disquieted  awhile,  but  tbis  UBsettling  tends  to  a  deeper  settling.  The 
more  we  believe,  the  more  we  are  established.  Faith  is  an  establishing 
•  grace,  by  faith  we  stand,  and  stand  fast,  and  are  able  to  withstand  whatso- 
ever opposeth  us.  For  what  can  stand  against  God,  upon  whose  truth  and 
power  faith  relies  ?  The  devil  fears  not  us,  but  him  whom  we  fly  unto  for 
succour ;  it  is  the  ground  we  stand  on  secures  us,  not  ourselves. 

As  it  is  our  happiness,  so  it  must  be  our  endeavour,  to  bring  the  soul 
close  to  God,  that  nothing  get  between,  for  then  the  soul  hath  no  sure  foot- 
ing. When  we  step  from  God,  Satan  steps  in  by  some  temptation  or  other 
presently.  It  requires  a  great  deal  of  self-denial  to  bring  a  soul  either 
swelling  with  carnal  confidence,  or  sinking  by  fear  and  distrust,  to  lie  level 
upon  God  and  cleave  fast  to  him.  Square  will  lie  fast  upon  square,  but 
om-  hearts  are  so  lull  of  unevenness,  that  God  hath  much  ado  to  square  our 
hearts  fit  for  him,  notwithstanding  the  soul  hath  no  rest  without  this. 

The  use  of  trust  is  best  known  in  the  worst  times,  for  naturally  in  sickness 
we  trust  to  the  physician,  in  want  to  our  wit  and  shifts,  in  danger  to  policy 
and  the  arm  of  flesh,  in  plenty  to  our  present  supply,  &c.  ;  but,  when  we 
have  nothing  in  view,  then'  indeed  should  God  be  God  unto  us.  In  times 
of  distress,  when  he  shews  himself  in  the  ways  of  his  mercy  and  goodness, 
then  we  should  especially  magnify  his  name,  which  wiU  move  him  to  dis- 
cover his  excellencies  the  more,  the  more  we  take  notice  of  them.  And, 
therefore,  David  strengthens  himself  in  these  words,  that  he  hoped  for  better 
times,  wherein  God  would  shew  himself  more  gracious  to  him,  because  he 
resolved  to  praise  him. 

This  trusting  joints  the  soul  again,  and  sets  it  in  its  own  true  rest- 
mg-place,  and  sets  God  in  his  own  place  in  the  soul,  that  is,  the  highest ; 
and  the  creature  in  its  place,  which  is  to  be  under  God,  as  in  its  own  nature, 
so  in  our  hearts.  This  is  to  ascribe  *  honour  due  imto  God,'  Ps.  xxix.  2 ; 
the  only  way  to  bring  peace  into  the  soul.  Thus,  if  we  can  bring  our  hope 
and  trust  to  the  God  of  hope  and  trust,  we  shall  stand  impregnable  in  all 
assaults,  as  wiE  best  appear  in  these  particulars. 

Chapter  XXI. — Of  quieting  the  spirit  in  troubles  for  sin;  and  objections 

aiuwered. 

To  begin  with  troubles  of  the.  spirit,  which  indeed  are  the  spirit  of 
troubles,  as  disabling  that  which  should  uphold  a  man  in  aU  his  troubles. 
A  spirit  set  in  tune  and  assisted  by  a  higher  spirit,  will  stand  out  against 
ordinary  assaults,  but  when  God,  the  God  of  the  spirits  of  aU  flesh,  shall 
seem  contrary  to  our  spirits,  whence  then  shaU  we  find  relief? 

Here  aU  is  spiritual,  God  a  Spirit,  the  soul  a  spirit,  the  terrors  spiritual, 
the  devil,  who  joins  with  these,  a  spirit,  yea  that  which  the  soul  fears  for 
the  time  to  come,  is  spiritual,  and  not  only  spiritual,  but  eternal,  unless  it 
pleaseth  God  at  length  to  break  out  of  the  thick  cloud  wherewith  he  covers 
himself,  and  shine  upon  the  soul,  as  in  his  own  time  he  will. 

In  this  state,*  comforts  themselves  are  uncomfortable  to  the  soul.  It 
quarrels  with  everything.  The  better  things  it  hears  of,  the  more  it  is 
vexed.  Oh  !  what  is  this  to  me,  what  have  I  to  do  with  these  comforts  ? 
the  more  happiness  may  be  had,  the  more  is  my  grief.  As  for  comforts  from 
God's  inferior  blessings,  as  friends,  children,  estate,  &c.,  the  soul  is  ready  to 
misconstrue  God's  end  in  all,  as  not  intending  any  good  to  him  thereby. 

In  this  condition  God  doth  not  appear  in  his  own  shape  to  the  soul,  but 
*  '  Estate,'  in  C. 


THE  soul's  conflict.  227 

in  the  shape  of  an  enemy ;  and,  when  God  seems  against  us,  who  shall 
stand  for  us  ?  Our  blessed  Saviour  in  his  agony  had  the  angels  to  comfort 
him ;  but  had  he  been  a  mere  man,  and  not  assisted  by  the  Godhead,  it 
was  not  the  comfort,  no  not  of  angels  that  could  have  upheld  him,  in  the 
sense  of  his  Father's  withdrawing  his  countenance  from  him.  Alas  !  then, 
what  will  become  of  us  in  such  a  case,  if  we  be  not  supported  by  a  spirit  of 
power  and  the  power  of  an  almighty  Spirit  ? 

If  all  the  temptations  of  the  whole  world  and  hell  itself  were  mustered 
together,  they  were  nothing  to  this,  whereby  the  great  God  sets  himself 
contrary  to  his  poor  creature.*  None  can  conceive  so,  but  those  that  have 
felt  it.  If  the  hiJiug  of  his  face  \vill  so  trouble  the  soul,  what  will  his  frown 
and  angiy  look  do  '?  Needs  must  the  soul  be  in  a  woeful  plight,  whenas  God 
seems  not  only  to  be  absent  from  it,  but  an  enemy  to  it.  When  a  man  sees 
no  comfort  from  above,  and  looks  inward  and  sees  less ;  when  he  looks 
about  him,  and  sees  nothing  but  evidences  of  God's  displeasure  ;  beneath 
him,  and  sees  nothing  but  desperation  ;  clouds  without,  and  clouds  within, 
nothing  but  clouds  in  his  condition  here,  he  had  need  of  faith  to  break 
through  all,  and  see  sun  through  the  thickest  cloud. 

Upon  this,  the  distressed  soul  is  in  danger  to  be  set  upon  by  a  tempta- 
tion, called  the  temptation  of  blasphemy,  tentatio  blasphemiarum,  that  is,  to 
entertain  bitter  thoughts  against  God,  and  especially  against  the  grace  and 
goodness  of  God,  wherein  he  desires  to  make  himself  most  known  to  his 
creature.  In  those  that  have  wilfully  resisted  divine  truths  made  known 
unto  them,  and,  after  taste,  despised  them,  a  persuasion  that  God  hath 
forsaken  them,  set  on  strongly  by  Satan,  hath  a  worse  effect.  It  stirs  up  a 
hellish  hatred  against  God,  carrying  them  to  a  revengeful  desire  of  opposing 
whatsoever  is  God's,  though  not  always  openly,  for  then  they  should  lose 
the  advantage  of  doing  hurt,  yet  secretly  and  subtilly,  and  under  pretence 
of  the  contrary.  To  this  degree  of  blasphemy  God's  children  never  fall, 
yet  they  may  feel  the  venom  of  corruption  stirring  in  their  hearts,  against 
God  and  his  ways  which  he  takes  with  them ;  and  this  adds  greatly  to  the 
depth  of  their  affliction,  when  afterward  they  think  with  themselves  what 
hellish  stuff  they  carry  in  their  souls.  This  is  not  so  much  discerned  in 
the  temptation,  but  after  the  fit  is  somewhat  remitted. 

In  this  kind  of  desertion,  seconded  with  this  kind  of  temptation,  the  way 
is  to  caU  home  the  soul,  and  to  check  it,  and  charge  it  to  trust  in  God,  even 
though  he  shews  himself  an  enemy ;  for  it  is  but  a  show,  he  doth  but  put 
on  a  mask,  with  a  purpose  to  reveal  himself  the  more  graciously  afterward. 
His  manner  is  to  work  by  contraries.  In  this  condition  God  lets  in  some 
few  beams  of  light,  whereby  the  soul  casts  a  longing  look  upon  God,  even 
when  he  seems  to  forsake  it.  It  wiU,  with  Jonah  in  the  belly  of  heU,  look 
back  to  the  holy  temple  of  God,  Jonah  ii.  4,  it  will  steal  a  look  unto 
Christ.  Nothing  more  comfortable  in  this  condition,  than  to  fly  to  him, 
that  by  experience  knew  what  this  kind  of  forsaking  meant,  for  this  Tery 
end  that  he  might  be  the  fitter  to  succour  us  in  the  hke  distress,  Heb.  iv. 
15,  16. 

Learn,  therefore,  to  appeal  from  God  to  God,  oppose  his  gracious  nature, 
his  sweet  promises  to  such  as  '  are  in  darkness,  and  see  no  light,'  Isa.  1. 10, 
inviting  them  to  trust  in  him,  though  there  appear  to  the  eye  of  sense  and 
reason  nothing  but  darkness.  Here  make  use  of  that  sweet  relation  of  God 
in  Christ  becoming  a  Father  to  us.     '  Doubtless  thou  art  our  Father,'  Isa. 

*  Nihil  est  teutatio  vel  universi  mundi  et  totius  inferni  in  unum  constata,  ad  earn 
qua  Deus  contrarius  homini  ponitur. — Luther. 


228  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

kiii.  16.  Flesh  would  make  a  doubt  of  it,  and  thou  seemest  to  hide  thy 
face  from  us,  yet  doubtless  thou  art  our  Father,  and  hast  in  former  time 
shewed  thyself  to  be  so  ;  we  will  not  leave  thee  till  we  have  a  blessing  from 
thee,  till  we  have  a  kinder  look  from  thee.  This  wrestUng  will  prevail  at 
length,  and  we  shall  have  such  a  sight  of  him,  as  shall  be  an  encouragement 
for  the  time  to  come,  when  '  we  shall  be  able  to  comfort  others,  with  those 
comforts  whereby  we  have  been  refreshed  ourselves,'  2  Cor.  i.  4,  With  the 
saint's  case  remember  the  saint's  com'se,  which  is  to  trust  in  God.  So 
Christ  the  Head  of  the  church  commits  himself  to  that  God,  whose  favour 
for  the  present  he  felt  not ;  so  Job  resolves  upon  trust,  though  God  should 
kill  him.  Job  xiii.  15. 

Obj.  But  these  holy  persons  were  not  troubled  with  the  guilt  of  any  par- 
ticular sin,  but  I  feel  the  just  displeasure  of  God  kiudled  against  me  for 
many  and  great  offences. 

Ans.  True  it  is,  that  sin  is  not  so  sweet  in  the  committing,  as  it  is  heavy 
and  bitter  m  the  reckoning.  When  Adam  had  once  offended  God,  paradise 
itself  was  not  pai'adise  to  him.  The  presence  of  God,  which  was  most  com- 
fortable before,  was  now  his  greatest  terror,  had  not  God,  out  of  his  free, 
infinite,  and  preventing  mercy,  come  betwixt  him  and  hell,  by  the  promise 
of  the  blessed  seed.  This  seed  was  made  sin  to  satisfy  for  sin ;  sin  passive 
in  himself  to  satisfy  for  sin  active  in  us,  1  Cor.  v.  21. 

When  God  once  charges  sin  upon  the  soul,  alas !  who  shall  take  it  off  ? 
when  the  great  God  shall  frown,  the  smiles  of  the  creature  cannot  refresh 
us.  Sin  makes  us  afraid  of  that  which  should  be  our  greatest  comfort ;  it 
puts  a  sting  into  every  other  evU.  Upon  the  seizing  of  any  evil,  either  of 
body,  soul,  or  condition,  the  guilty  soul  is  embittered  and  enraged ;  for 
from  that  which  it  feels,  it  fore-speaks  to  itself  worse  to  come,  it  inter- 
prets all  that  befalls  as  the  messengers  of  an  angry  God,  sent  in  displeasure 
to  take  revenge  upon  it.  This  weakeneth  the  courage,  wasteth  the  spirits, 
andblasteth  the  beauty  even  of  God's  dearest  ones,  Ps.  xxxix.  11.  There  is 
not  the  stoutest  man  breathing,  but  if  God  sets  his  conscience  against  him 
it  will  pull  him  down,  and  lay  him  flat,  and  fill  him  with  such  inward  terrors, 
as  he  shall  be  more  afraid  of  himself,  than  of  all  the  world  beside.  This 
were  a  doleful  case,  if  God  had  not  provided  in  Christ  a  remedy  for  this  great 
evil  of  evils,  and  if  the  Holy  Spirit  were  not  above  the  conscience,  able  as 
weU  to  pacify  it  by  the  sense  of  God's  love  in  Christ,  as  to  convince  it  of 
sin,  and  the  just  desert  thereby. 

Ohj.  But  my  sins  are  not  the  sins  of  an  ordinary  man,  my  spots  are  not 
as  the  spots  of  the  rest  of  God's  children. 

Conceive  of  God's  mercy  as  no  ordinary  mercy,  and  Christ's  obedience  as 
no  ordinary  obedience.  There  is  something  in  the  very  greatness  of  sin, 
that  may  encourage  us  to  go  to  God,  for  the  greater  our  sins  are,  the  greater 
the  glory  of  his  powerful  mercy  pardoning,  and  his  powerful  grace  in  healing 
will  appear.  The  great  God  delights  to  shew  his  greatness  in  the  greatest 
things.  Even  men  glory,  when  they  are  put  upon  that,  which  may  set  forth 
thefr  worth  in  any  kind.  God  '  delighteth  in  mercy,'  Mic.  vii.  18.  It  pleaseth 
him,  nothing  so  well,  as  being  his  chief  name,  which  then  we  take  in  vain, 
when  we  are  not  moved  by  it  to  come  unto  him. 

That  which  Satan  would  use  as  an  argument  to  drive  us  from  God,  we 
should  use  as  a  strong  plea  with  him.  Lord,  the  greater  my  sins  are,  the 
greater  wiU  be  the  glory  of  thy  pardoning  mercy.  David,  after  his  heinous 
sins,  cries  not  for  mercy,  but  for  '  abundance  of  mercy  ;'  '  according  to  the 
multitude  of  thy  mercies,  do  away  mine  offences,'  Ps.  li.  1.     His  mercy  is 


THE  soul's  conflict.  229 

not  only  above  his  own  works,  but  above  ours  too.  K  we  could  sin  more 
than  he  could  pardon,  then  we  might  have  some  reason  to  despair.  Despair 
is  a  high  point  of  atheism,  it  takes  away  God  and  Christ  both  at  once. 
Judas,  in  betraying  our  Saviour,  was  an  occasion  of  his  death  as  man,  but 
in  despairing  he  did  what  lay  in  him  to  take  away  his  life  as  God. 

When,  therefore,  conscience,  joining  with  Satan,  sets  out  the  sin  in  its 
colours,  labour  thou  by  faith  to  set  out  God  in  his  colours,  infinite  in  mercy 
and  lovingkindess.  Here  lies  the  art  of  a  Christian ;  it  is  divine  rhetoric 
thus  to  persuade  and  set  down  the  soul.  Thy  sins  are  great,  but  Adam's 
was  greater,  who  being  so  newly  advanced  above  aU  the  creatures,  and  taken 
into  so  near  an  acquaintance  with  God,  and  having  ability  to  persist  in  that 
condition  if  he  would,  yet  willingly  overthrew  himself  and  all  his  whole 
posterity,  by  yielding  to  a  temptation,  which  though  high,  as  being  pro- 
mised to  be  like  unto  God,  yet  such  as  he  should  and  might  have  resisted. 
No  sin  we  can  commit,  can  be  a  sin  of  so  tainting  and  spreading  a  nature ; 
yet,  as  he  fell  by  distrust,  so  he  was  recovered  by  trusting,  and  so  must  we 
by  relying  on  a  second  Adam,  whose  obedience  and  righteousness  fi'om 
thence  reigns,  Rom.  v.  17,  to  the  taking  away  not  only  of  that  one  sin  of 
Adam,  and  ours  in  him,  but  of  all,  and  not  only  to  the  pardon  of  all  sin, 
but  to  a  right  of  everlasting  life.  The  Lord  thinks  himself  disparaged,  when 
we  have  no  higher  thoughts  of  his  mercy  than  of  our  sins,  when  we  bring 
God  down  to  our  model,  whenas  '  the  heavens  are  not  so  much  higher  than 
the  earth,  than  his  thoughts  of  love  and  goodness  are  above  the  thoughts  of 
our  unworthiness,'  Isa.  Iv.  9.  It  is  a  kind  of  taking  away  the  Almighty  to 
limit  his  boundless  mercy  in  Christ,  within  the  narrow  scantling*  of  our 
apprehension  ;  yet  infidelity  doth  this,  which  should  stir  up  in  us  a  loathing 
of  it  above  all  other  sins.  But  this  is  Satan's  fetch,f  when  once  he  hath 
brought  us  into  sins  against  the  law,  then  to  bring  us  into  sins  of  a  higher 
nature,  and  deeper  danger,  even  against  the  blessed  gospel,  that  so  there 
may  be  no  remedy,  but  that  mercy  itself  might  condemn  us. 

Al  Ithe  aggravations  that  conscience,  and  Satan  helping  it,  are  able  to  raise 
sin  unto,  cannot  rise  to  that  degree  of  infiniteness,  that  God's  mercy  in 
Christ  is  of.  If  there  be  a  spring  of  sin  in  us,  there  is  a  spring  of  mercy  in 
him,  and  a  fountain  open  daily  to  wash  ourselves  in,  Zech.  xiii.  1.  If  we 
sin  oft,  let  us  do  as  St  Paul,  who  prayed  oft  '  against  the  prick  of  the  flesh,' 
2  Cor.  xii.  7,  8.  If  it  be  a  devil  of  long  continuance,  yet  fasting  and  prayer 
will  drive  him  out  at  length.  Mat.  xvii.  21. 

Nothing  keeps  the  soul  more  down  than  sins  of  long  continuance,  because 
corruption  of  nature  hath  gotten  such  strength  in  them,  as  nature  is  added  to 
nature,  and  custom  doth  so  determine  and  sway  the  soul  one  way,  that  men 
think  it  impossible  to  recover  themselves.  They  see  one  link  of  sin  draw 
on  another,  aU  making  a  chain  to  fasten  them  to  destruction.  They  think 
of  necessity  they  must  be  damned,  because  custom  hath  bred  a  necessity  of 
sinning  in  them,  and  conceive  of  the  promise  of  mercy,  as  only  made  to 
such  as  turn  from  their  sinful  courses,  in  which  they  see  themselves  so 
hardened  that  they  cannot  repent. 

Certain  it  is,  the  condition  is  most  lamentable,  that  yielding  unto  sin 
brings  men  unto.  Men  are  careful  to  prevent  dangerous  sicknesses  of  body, 
and  the  danger  of  law  concerning  their  estates ;  but  seldom  consider  into 
what  a  miserable  plight  their  sins,  which  they  so  willingly  give  themselves 
up  unto,  will  bring  them.  If  they  do  not  perish  in  their  sins,  yet  their 
yielding  will  bring  them  into  such  a  doleful  condition,  that  they  would  give 
*  That  is, '  small  portion.'— G.  t  That  is,  '  artifice.'— G. 


280  THE  soul's  conflict. 

the  whole  world,  if  they  were  possessors  of  it,  to  have  their  spirits  at  free- 
dom from  this  bondage  and  fear. 

To  such  as  bless  themselves  in  an  ill  way  upon  hope  of  mercy,  we  dare 
not  speak  a  word  of  comfort,  because  God  doth  not,  but  threatens  his  wrath 
shall  bum  to  hell  against  them.  Yet  because  while  life  continues  there  may 
be,  as  a  space,  so  a  place  and  grace  for  repentance,  these  must  be  dealt 
withal  in  such  a  manner,  as  they  may  be  stayed  and  stopped  in  their  dan- 
gerous courses  ;  there  must  be  a  stop  before  a  turn. 

And  when  their  consciences  are  thoroughly  awaked  with  sense  of  then- 
danger,  let  them  seriously  consider  whither  sin,  and  Satan  by  sin,  is  cai'iy- 
ing  of  them,  and  lay  to  heart  the  justice  of  God,  standing  before  them  as  an 
angel  with  a  drawn  sword,  ready  to  lall  upon  them  if  they  post  on  still. 

Yet  to  keep  them  from  utter  sinking,  let  them  consider  withal,  the  un- 
limited mercy  of  God,  as  not  limited  to  any  person,  or  any  sin,  so  not  to 
any  time.  There  is  no  prescription  of  time  can  bind  God.  His  mercy  hath 
no  certain  date  that  will  expire,  so  as  those  that  fly  unto  it  shall  have  no 
benefit.  Invincible  mercy  will  never  be  conquered,  and  endless  goodness 
never  admits  of  bounds  or  end.=<= 

What  kind  of  people  were  those  that  followed  Christ  ?  Were  they  not 
such  as  had  lived  long  in  their  sinful  courses  ?  He  did  not  only  raise  them 
that  were  newly  dead,  but  Lazarus,  that  had  lien  '  four  days  in  the  grave,' 
John  xi.  39.  They  thought  Chi'ist's  power  in  raising  the  dead  had  reached 
to  a  short  time  only,  but  he  would  let  them  know  that  he  could  as  well  raise 
those  that  had  been  long  as  lately  dead.  If  Christ  be  the  physician,  it  is 
no  matter  of  how  long  continuance  the  disease  be.  He  is  good  at  all  kind 
of  diseases,  and  wiU  not  endure  the  reproach  of  disability  to  cure  any. 
Some  diseases  are  the  reproaches  of  other  physicians,  as  being  above  their 
skni  to  help,  but  no  conceit  more  dangerous  when  we  are  to  deal  with  Christ. 

*  The  blessed  martyr  Bilney  was  much  ofiended  when  he  heard  an  elo- 
quent preacher  inveighing  against  sin,  saying  thus.  Behold,  thou  hast  hen 
rotten  in  thy  own  lusts,  by  the  space  of  sixty  years,  even  as  a  beast  in  his 
own  dung,  and  wilt  thou  presume  in  one  year  to  go  forward  towards  heaven, 
and  that  in  thine  old  age,  as  much  as  thou  wentest  backward  from  heaven 
to  hell  in  sixty  years  ?'  '  Is  not  this  a  goodly  argument  ?'  saith  Bilney.  '  Is 
this  preaching  of  repentance  in  the  name  of  Jesus  ?  It  is  as  if  Christ  had 
died  in  vain  for  such  a  man,  and  i,hat  he  must  make  satisfaction  for  him- 
self. If  I  had  heard,  saith  he,  such  preaching  of  repentance  in  times  past, 
I  had  utterly  despaired  of  mercy.'  We  must  never  think  the  door  of  hope 
to  be  shut  against  us,  if  we  have  a  pvirpose  to  turn  unto  God.  As  there  is 
nothing  more  injurious  to  Christ,  so  nothing  more  foolish  and  groundless 
than  to  distnist,  it  being  the  chief  scope  of  God  in  his  word  to  draw  our 
trust  to  him  in  Christ,  in  whom  is  always  open  a  breast  of  mercy  for 
humbled  sinners  to  fly  unto. 

But  thus  far  the  consideration  of  our  long  time  spent  in  the  devil's  ser- 
vice should  prevail  with  us,  as  to  take  more  shame  to  ourselves,  so  to 
resolve  more  strongly  for  God  and  his  ways,  and  to  account  it  more  than 
sufficient  that  we  have  spent  already  so  much  precious  time  to  so  iU  pur- 
poses ;  and  the  less  time  we  have,  to  make  the  more  haste  to  work  for  God, 
and  bring  all  the  honour  we  can  to  religion  in  so  httle  a  space.  Oh,  how 
doth  it  grieve  those  that  have  felt  the  gracious  power  of  Christ  in  convert- 
ing their  souls,  that  ever  they  should  spend  the  strength  of  their  parts  in 
the  work  of  his  and  their  enemy  !    and  might  they  hve  longer,  it  is  their 

*  Bonitaa  invicti  non  vincitur,  et  infinita  misericordia  non  finitur. — Fulgent[ius']. 


THE  soul's  conflict.  231 

fiill  purpose  for  ever  to  renounce  their  former  ways.  There  is  bred  in  them 
an  eternal  desire  of  pleasing  God,  as  in  the  wicked  there  is  an  eternal  desire 
of  offending  him,  which  eternity  of  desires  God  looks  to  in  both  of  them, 
and  rewards  them  accordingly,  though  he  cuts  off  the  thread  of  then-  Uves. 

But  God  in  wisdom  will  have  the  conversions  of  such  as  have  gone  on  in 
a  course  of  sinning,  especially  after  light  revealed,  to  be  rare  and  difficult. 
Births  in  those  that  are  ancienter,  are  with  greater  danger  than  in  the 
yoimger  sort.  Cavendum  est  vulnus  quod  dolore  curatur.  God  will  take  a 
course,  that  his  gi-ace  shall  not  be  turned  into  wantonness.  He  oft  holds 
euch  upon  the  rack  of  a  troubled  conscience,  that  they  and  others  may  fear 
to  buy  the  pleasure  of  sin  at  such  a  rate.  Indeed,  where  sin  abounds,  there 
grace  superabounds ;  but  then  it  is  where  sin,  that  abounded  in  the  hfe, 
abounds  in  the  conscience  in  grief  and  detestation  of  it,  as  the  greatest  evil. 
Christ  groaned  at  the  raising  of  Lazarus,  which  he  did  not  at  others,  be- 
cause that  although  to  an  almighty  power  all  things  are  alike  easy,  yet  he 
will  shew  that  there  be  degrees  of  difficulties  in  the  things  themselves,  and 
make  it  appear  to  us  that  it  is  so.  Therefore,  those  that  have  enjoyed  long 
the  sweet  of  sin,  may  expect  the  bitterest  sorrow  and  repentance  for  sin. 

Yet  never  give  place  to  thoughts  of  despau-,  as  coming  from  him  that 
would  overturn  the  end  of  the  gospel,  which  lays  open  the  riches  of  God's 
mercy  in  Christ ;  which  riches  none  set  out  more  than  those  that  have  been 
'  the  greatest  of  sinners,'  1  Tim.  i.  15,  as  we  see  in  Paul.  We  cannot  exalt 
God  more  than  by  taking  notice,  and  making  use  of  that  great  design  of 
infinite  wisdom  in  reconciling  justice  and  mercy  together,  so  as  now  he  is 
not  only  merciful,  but  'just  in  pardoning  sins,'  Rom.  iii.  26.  Our  Saviour, 
as  he  came  towards  the  latter  age  of  the  world,  when  all  things  seemed 
desperate  ;  so  he  comes  to  some  men  in  the  latter  part  of  their  days.  The 
mercy  shewed  to  Zaccheus  and  the  good  thief  was  personal,  but  the  comfort 
intended  by  Christ  was  public,  therefore  still  trust  in  God. 

In  this  case,  we  must  go  to  God,  with  whom  all  things  are  possible,  to 
put  forth  his  almighty  power,  not  only  in  the  pardoning,  but  in  subduing 
our  iniquities.  He  that  can  make  a  camel  go  through  a  needle's  eye,  can 
make  a  high  conceited  man  lowly,  a  rich  man  humble.  Therefoi'e,  never 
question  his  power,  much  less  his  willingness,  when  he  is  not  only  ready  to 
receive  us  when  we  return,  but  persuades  and  entreats  us  to  come  in  unto 
him,  yea,  after  backsliding  and  false  dealing  with  him,  wherein  he  allows 
no  mercy  to  be  shewed  by  man,  yet  he  will  take  liberty  to  shew  mercy  him- 
self, Jer.  iii.  2. 

Obj.  But  I  have  often  relapsed  and  fallen  into  the  same  sin  again  and  again. 

Ans.  If  Christ  will  have  us  pardon  our  brother  seventy-seven  times,*  can 
we  think  that  he  wiU  enjoin  us  more  than  he  will  be  ready  to  do  himself, 
when  in  case  of  shewing  mercy  he  would  have  us  think  his  thoughts  to  be 
far  above  ours  ?  Adam  lost  all  by  once  sinning,  but  we  ai-e  under  a  better 
covenant,  a  covenant  of  mercy,  and  are  encouraged  by  the  Son  to  go  to  the 
Father  every  day  for  the  sins  of  that  day. 

Where  the  work  of  gi-ace  is  begun,  sin  loses  strength  by  every  new  fall ; 
for  hence  issues  deeper  humihty,  stronger  hatred,  fresh  indignation  against 
ourselves,  more  experience  of  the  deceitfulness  of  om-  hearts,  renewed 
resolutions  until  sin  be  brought  imder.  That  should  not  drive  us  from  God, 
which  God  would  have  us  make  use  of  to  fly  the  rather  to  him.  Since  there 
is  a  throne  of  grace  set  up  in  Jesus  Christ,  we  may  boldly  make  use  of  it,  and 
let  us  be  ashamed  to  sin,  and  not  be  ashamed  to  glorify  God's  mercy  iii 
*  Qu.  '  seventy  times  seven  times  ?' — Ed. 


£32  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

begging  pardon  for  sin.  Nothing  will  make  us  more  ashamed  to  sin  than 
thoughts  of  so  free  and  large  mercy.  It  will  grieve  an  ingenuous  spirit  to 
ofiend  so  good  a  God.  Ah,  that  there  should  be  such  a  heart  in  me  as  to 
tire  the  patience  of  God,  and  dam  up  his  goodness  as  much  as  in  me  Ues  ! 
But  this  is  our  comfort,  that  the  plea  of  mercy  from  a  broken  spirit  to  a 
gracious  Father  will  ever  hold  good.  When  we  are  at  the  lowest  in  this 
world,  yet  there  are  these  three  grounds  of  comfort  still  remaining: — 1. 
That  we  are  not  yet  in  the  place  of  the  damned,  whose  estate  is  unalterable. 

2.  That  whilst  we  live,  there  is  time  and  space  for  recovering  of  ourselves. 

3.  That  there  is  grace  offered,  if  we  will  not  shut  our  hearts  against  it. 
Obj.  Oh,  but  every  one  hath  his  time ;  my  good  hour  may  be  past. 
A71S.  That  is  counsel  to  thee ;  it  is  not  past  if  thou  canst  raise  up  thy 

heart  to  God,  and  embrace  his  goodness.  Shew  by  thy  yielding  unto 
mercy,  that  thy  time  of  mercy  is  not  yet  out,  rather  than  by  concluding 
uncomfortably,  'willingly  betray  thyself  to  thy  greatest  enemy,  enforcing 
that  upon  thyself,  which  God  labom-s  to  draw  thee  from.  As  in  the  sin 
against  the  Holy  Ghost,  fear  shews  that  we  have  not  committed  it ;  so 
in  this,  a  tender  heart  fearing  lest  our  time  be  past,  shews  plainly  that  it 
is  not  past. 

Look  upon  examples ;  when  the  prodigal  in  his  forlorn  condition  was 
going  to  his  father,  his  father  stayed  not  for  him,  but  '  meets  him '  in  the 
way,  Luke  xv.  20  ;  he  did  not  only  go,  but  ran  to  meet  him.  God  is  more 
willing  to  entertain  us  than  we  are  to  cast  ourselves  upon  him  ;  as  there 
is  '  a  fountain  opened  for  sin,  and  for  uncleanness,'  Zech.  xiii.  1,  so  it  is  a 
living  fountain  of  living  water,  that  runs  for  ever,  and  can  never  be  drawn 
dry. 

Caution.  Here  remember,  that  I  build  not  a  shelter  for  the  presumptuous, 
but  only  open  a  hai-bour  for  the  truly  humbled  soul  to  put  himself  into. 


Chapter  XXII. — Of  sorrow  for  sin,  and  hatred  for  sin,  when  right  and 
sufficient.     Helps  thereto. 

Obj.  Ah !  there's  my  misery ;  K  I  could  be  humbled  for  sin,  I  might 
hope  for  mercy,  but  I  never  yet  knew  what  a  broken  heart  meant ;  this  soul 
of  mine  was  never  as  yet  sensible  of  the  grief  and  smart  of  sin.  How  then 
can  I  expect  any  comfort  ? 

Am.  1.  It  is  one  of  Satan's  policies  to  hold  its  in  a  dead  and  barren  con- 
dition, by  following  us  with  conceits,  that  tve  have  not  sorrowed  in  proportion 
to  our  offences.  True  it  is,  we  should  labour  that  our  sorrow  might  in  some 
measure  answer  to  the  heinousness  of  our  sins ;  but  we  must  know  sorrow 
is  not  required  for  itself  in  that  degree  as  faith  is.  If  we  could  trust  in  God 
without  much  son-ow  for  our  sins,  then  it  would  not  be  required,  for  God  de- 
lights not  in  our  sorrow  as  sorrow.  God  in  mercy  both  requfres  it  and  works 
it,  as  thereby  making  us  capable  vessels  of  mercy,  fit  to  acknowledge,  value, 
and  walk  worthy  of  Christ.  He  requires  it  as  it  is  a  means  to  embitter  sin, 
and  the  delightful  pleasures  thereof  unto  us,  and  by  that  means  bring  us  to 
a  right  judgment  of  ourselves,  and  the  creature,  with  which  sin  commits 
spiritual  adultery,  that  so  we  may  recover  our  taste  before  lost.  And  then 
when  with  the  prodigal  we  return  unto  ourselves,  having  lost  ourselves 
before,  we  are  fit  to  judge  of  the  baseness  of  sin,  and  of  the  worth  of  mercy ; 
and  so  upon  grounds  of  right  reason,  be  willing  to  alter  our  condition,  and 
embrace  mercy  upon  any  terms  it  shall  please  Christ  to  enjoin. 


THE  soul's  conflict.  283 

Jns.  2.  Secondly,  if  we  could  grieve  and  cast  down  ourselves  beneath 
the  earth,  as  low  as  the  nethermost  pit,  yet  this  ivould  be  no  satisfaction  to 
God  for  sin ;  of  itself,  it  is  rather  an  entrance,  and  beginning  of  hell. 

Ans.  3.  Thirdly,  we  must  search  what  is  the  cause  of  this  want  of  grief 
which  ive  complain  of,  whether  it  be  not  a  secret  cleaving  to  the  creature, 
and  too  much  contentment  in  it,  which  oft  stealeth  away  the  heart  from 
God,  and  brings  in  such  contentment  as  is  subject  to  fail  and  deceive  us  ; 
whereupon  from  discontentment  we  grieve,  which  grief,  being  carnal,  hinders 
grief  of  a  better  kind. 

Usually  the  causes  of  our  want  of  grief  for  sin  are  these  : — First,  a  want 
of  serious  consideration,  and  dwelling  long  enough  upon  the  cause  of  grief, 
which  springs  either  from  an  unsettledness  of  nature,  or  distractions  from 
things  without.  Moveable  dispositions  are  not  long  affected  with  anything. 
One  main  use  of  crosses  is  to  take  the  soul  from  that  it  is  dangerously  set 
upon,  and  to  fix  our  running  spfrits.  For  though  grief  for  crosses  hinders 
epiritual  grief,  yet  worldly  delights  hinder  more.  That  grief  is  less  distant 
from  true  grief,  and  therefore  nearer  to  be  turned  into  it. 

And  secondhi ^Xj-gj  case  we  could  call  off  our  minds  from  other  things,  and 
Bet  them  on  grief  for  our  sins7"yet  it  is  only  God's  Spirit  that  can  work  our 
hearts  to  this  grief;  and  for  tbis  end,  perhaps,  God  holds  us  off  from  it,  to 
teach  us  that  he  is  the  teacher  of  the  heart  to  grieve.  And  thereupon  it  is 
our  duty  to  wait  till  he  reveal  ourselves  so  far  to  ourselves,  as  to  stir  up 
this  affection  in  us. 

ThirdliL  Another  cause  may  be  a  kind  of  doubleness  of  heart,  whereby  we 
would  bring  two  things  together  that  cannot  suit!  We  would  grieve  for  sin  so 
far  as  we  think  it  an  evidence  of  a  good  condition  ;  but  then  because  it  is  an 
irksome  task,  and  because  it  cannot  be  wrought  without  severing  our  heart 
from  those  sweet  deUghts  it  is  set  upon ;  hence  we  are  loath  God  should 
take  that  course  to  work  grief,  which  crosseth  our  disposition.  The  soul 
must  therefore,  by  self-denial,  be  brought  to  such  a  degree  of  sincerity  and 
simplicity  as  to  be  willing  to  give  God  leave  to  work  this  '  sorrow,  not  to  be 
sorrowed  for,'  2  Cor.  vii.  10,  by  what  way  he  himself  pleaseth.  But  here 
we  must  remember  again  that  this  self-denial  is  not  of  ourselves,  but  of  God, 
who  only  can  take  us  out  of  ourselves,  and  if  our  hearts  were  brought  to  a 
Btooping  herein  to  his  work,  it  would  stop  many  a  cross,  and  continue  many 
a  blessing  which  God  is  forced  to  take  from  us,  that  he  may  work  that  grief 
in  us  which  he  seeth  would  not  otherwise  be  kindly  wrought. 

Ans.  4.  God  giveth  some  larger  spirits,  and  so  their  sorrows  become 
larger.  Some  upon  quickness  of  apprehension,  and  the  ready  passages 
betwixt  the  braia  and  the  heart,  are  quickly  moved.  Where  the  apprehen- 
sion is  deeper,  and  the  passages  slower,  there  sorrow  is  long  in  working, 
and  long  in  removing.  The  deepest  waters  have  the  stillest  motion.  Iron 
takes  fire  more  slowly  than  stubble,  but  then  it  holds  it  longer. 

Ans.  5.  Again,  God  that  searcheth  and  knows  our  hearts  better  than  our- 
selves, knows  when  and  in  what  measure  it  is  fit  for  to  grieve.  He  sees  it  is 
fitter  for  some  dispositions  to  go  on  in  a  constant  grief.  We  must  give  that 
honour  to  the  wisdom  of  the  great  physician  of  souls  to  know  best  how  to 
mingle  and  minister  his  potions.  Aiid  we  must  not  be  so  unkind  to  take  it 
ill  at  God's  hands  when  he,  out  of  gentleness  and  forbearance,  miuisters 
not  to  us  that  churlish  physic  he  doth  to  others,  but  cheerfully  embrace 
any  potion  that  he  thinks  fit  to  give  us. 

Some  holy  men  have  desired  to  see  their  sin  in  the  most  ugly  colours, 
and  God  hatii  heard  them  in  their  requests.    But  yet  his  hand  was  so  heavy 


284  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

upon  them  that  they  went  always  mourning  to  their  very  graves,  and  thought 
it  fitter  to  leave  it  to  God's  wisdom  to  mingle  the  potion  of  sorrow  than 
to  be  their  own  choosers.*  For  a  conclusion,  then,  of  this  point,  if  we 
grieve  that  we  cannot  grieve,  and  so  far  as  it  is  sin,  make  it  our  grief;  then 
put  it  amongst  the  rest  of  our  sins,  which  we  beg  pardon  of,  and  help 
against,  and  let  it  not  hinder  us  from  going  to  Christ,  but  drive  us  to  him. 
For  herein  lies  the  danger  of  this  temptation,  that  those  who  complain  in 
this  kind  think  it  should  be  presumption  to  go  to  Christ,  whenas  he  espe- 
cially calleth  the  '  weary  and  heavy  laden  sinner  to  come  unto  him,'  Mat.  xi. 
28,  and  therefore  such  as  are  sensible  that  they  are  not  sensible  enough  of 
their  sin  must  know,  though  want  of  feeling  be  quite  opposite  to  the  life  of 
grace,  yet  sensibleness  of  the  want  of  feeling  shews  some  degree  of  the  life 
of  grace.  The  safest  way  in  this  case  is  from  that  Ufe  and  light  that  God 
hath  wrought  in  our  souls,  to  see  and  feel  this  want  of  feeling,  to  cast  our- 
selves and  this  our  indisposition  upon  the  pardoning  and  healing  mercy  of 
God  in  Christ. 

Caution.  We  speak  only  of  those  that  are  so  far  displeased  with  them- 
selves for  their  ill  temper,  as  they  do  not  favour  themselves  in  it,  but  are 
willing  to  yield  to  God's  way  in  redressing  it,  and  do  not  cross  the  Spirit, 
moving  them  thus  with  David  to  check  themselves,  and  to  trust  in  God. 
Otherwise,  an  imfeeling  and  careless  state  of  spirit  will  breed  a  secret  shame 
of  going  to  God,  for  removing  of  that  we  are  not  hearty  in  labouring  against, 
so  far  as  our  conscience  tells  us  we  are  enabled. 

The  most  constant  state  the  soul  can  be  in,  in  regard  of  sin,  is,  upon 
judgment,  to  condemn  it  upon  right  gi-ounds,  and  to  resolve  against  it. 
Whereupon  repentance  is  called  an  after  wisdom  and  change  of  the  mind,  f 
And  this  disposition  is  in  God's  children  at  all  times.  And  for  afiections, 
love  of  that  which  is  good,  and  hatred  of  that  which  is  evd,  these  Ukewise 
have  a  settled  continuance  in  the  soul.  But  grief  and  sorrow  rise  and  fad 
as  fresh  occasions  are  offered,  and  are  more  lively  stirred  up  upon  some 
lively  representation  to  the  soul  of  some  hurt  we  receive  by  sin,  and  wrong 
we  do  to  God  in  it.  The  reason  hereof  is,  because  tdl  the  soul  be  sepa- 
rated from  the  body,  these  affections  have  more  communion  with  the  body, 
and  therefore  they  carry  more  outward  expressions  than  dislike  or  abomina- 
tion in  the  mind  doth.  We  are  to  judge  of  ourselves  more  by  that  which 
is  constant  than  by  that  which  is  efeoing  and  flowing. 

Quest.  But  what  is  the  reason  mat  the  affections  do  not  always  follow  the 
judgment,  and  the  choice  or  refvfsal  of  the  will  ? 

Am.  1.  Our  soul  being  a  finite  substance,  is  carried  with  strength  but 
one  way  at  one  time. 

2.  Sometimes  God  calls  us  to  joy  as  well  as  to  grieve,  and  then  no  won- 
der if  grief  be  somewhat  to  seek. 

3.  Sometimes  when  God  caUeth  to  grief,  and  the  judgment  and  will  goeth 
along  with  God,  yet  the  heart  is  not  always  ready,  because,  it  may  be,  it 
hath  run  out  so  far  that  it  cannot  presently  be  called  in  again. 

4.  Or  the  spirits,  which  are  the  instruments  of  the  soul,  may  be  so  wasted 

*  Here  in  margin  is  placed  a  name,  thus,  '  Mr  Leaver.'  Probably  the  reference  is 
to  the  excellent  but  despondent  Thomas  Leaver,  chaplain  to  Edward  VL,  and  sub- 
sepuently  one  of  the  refugees  at  Frankfort.  See  Fuller's  '  Worthies  '  (i.  547,  ed. 
1811.  2  vols.  4to)  ;  and  Bale,  de  Scrip.  Brit.  (Cent.  ix.  86).  There  were  various 
eminent  Nonconformists  of  the  same  name,  descendents  of  Thomas  Leaver,  contem- 
porary with  Sibbes.  See  Nonconf.  Memorial  by  Palmer  (ii.  358  ;  iii.  58,  78,  ed.  3 
vols.  8vo,  1802).— G.  f  '  Change  of  the  mind=  /isravoia G. 


THE  soul's  conflict.  285 

that  they  cannot  hold  out  to  feed  a  strong  grief;  in  which  case  the  con- 
science must  rest  in  settled  judgment  and  hatred  of  ill,  which  is  the  surest 
and  never  failing  character  of  a  good  soul. 

5.  Ofttimes  God  in  mercy  takes  us  off  from  grief  and  sorrow,  hy  refresh- 
ing occasions,  because  sorrow  and  grief  are  affections  very  much  afflicting 
both  of  body  and  soul. 

Quest.  Wlien  is  godly  sorrow  in  that  degree  wherein  the  soul  may  stay 
itself  from  uncomfortable  thoughts  about  its  condition  ? 

Ans.  1.  When  we  find  strength  against  that  sin  which  formerly  we  fell 
into,  and  ability  to  walk  in  a  contrary  way ;  for  this  answers  God's  end  in 
giief,  one  of  which  is  a  prevention  from  falling  for  the  time  to  come.  For 
God  hath  that  affection  in  him  which  he  puts  into  parents,  which  is  by 
smai-t  to  prevent  their  children's  boldness  of  offending  for  the  time  to  come. 

Ans.  2.  When  that  which  is  wanting  in  grief  is  made  up  in  fear.  Here 
there  is  no  great  cause  of  complaint  of  the  want  of  grief,  for  this  holy  affec- 
tion is  the  awe-band  of  the  soul,  whereby  it  is  kept  from  starting  from  God 
and  his  ways. 

Ans.  3.  When  after  grief  we  find  inward  peace  ;  for  true  grief  being  God's 
work  in  us,  he  knows  best  how  to  measure  it.  Therefore,  whatsoever 
fi-ame  God  brings  my  soul  into,  I  am  to  rest  in  his  goodness,  and  not  ex- 
cept against  his  deaUng.  That  peace  and  joy  which  riseth  from  grief  in 
the  use  of  means,  and  makes  the  soul  more  humble  and  thankful  to  God, 
and  less  censorious  and  more  pitiful  to  others,  is  no  illusion  nor  false  light. 

Ans.  4.  The  main  end  of  grief  and  sorrow  is  to  make  us  value  the  grace 
and  mercy  of  God  in  Christ,  above  all  the  contentments  which  sin  feeds  on. 
Which,  where  it  is  found,  we  may  know  that  grief  for  sin  hath  enough  pos- 
sessed the  soul  before.  The  sufficiency  of  things  is  to  be  judged  by  an 
answerableness  to  their  use  and  ends.  God  makes  sin  bitter,  that  Christ 
may  be  sweet.  That  measure  of  grief  and  sorrow  is  sufficient  which  bringg 
us  and  holds  us  to  Christ. 

Ans.  5.  Hatred,  being  the  strongest,  deepest,  and  steadiest  affection  of  the 
soul  against  that  which  is  evil,  grief  for  sin  is  then  right,  when  it  springs 
fr'om  hatred,  and  increaseth  farther  hatred  against  it. 

1.  Now  the  soul  may  be  known  to  hate  sin  when  it  seeks  the  utter 
abolishing  of  it ;  for  hatred  is  an  implacable  and  irreconcileable  affection. 

2.  True  hatred  is  carried  against  the  whole  kind  of  sin,  without  respect 
of  any  wrong  done  to  us,  but  only  out  of  a  mere  antipathy  and  contrariety 
of  disposition  to  it,  as  the  lamb  hateth  the  whole  kind  of  wolves,  and  man 
hateth  the  whole  kind  of  serpents.  A  toad  does  us  no  harm,  but  yet  we 
hate  it. 

3.  That  which  is  hateful  to  us,  the  nearer  it  is  the  more  we  shun  and 
abhor  it,  as  venomous  serpents  and  hurtful  creatures,  because  the  nearness 
of  the  object  affects  us  more  deeply.  Therefore,  if  our  grief  spring  from 
true  hatred  of  sin,  it  will  make  no  new  league  with  it,  but  grieve  for  all  sin, 
especially  for  our  own  particular  sins,  as  being  contrary  to  the  work  of 
God's  grace  in  us,  then  is  grief  an  affection  of  the  new  creature,  and  every 
way  of  the  right  breed. 

4.  But  for  fuller  satisfaction  in  this  case,  we  must  know  there  is  some- 
times grief  for  sin  in  us,  when  we  think  there  is  none.  It  wants  but 
stirring  up  by  some  quickening  word.  The  remembrance  of  God's  favours 
and  our  unkindness,  or  the  awaking  of  our  consciences  by  some  cross,  will 
raise  up  this  affection  feelingly  in  us.  As  in  the  affection  of  love  many 
think  that  they  have  no  love  to  God  at  all ;  yet  let  God  be  dishonoured  in 


236  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

his  name,  truth,  or  children,  and  their  love  will  soon  stir,  and  appear  in 
just  anger. 

In  want  of  grief  for  sin,  we  must  remember,  first,  that  we  must  have 
this  aflfection  from  God,  before  we  can  bring  it  unto  God. 

And,  therefore,  in  the  second  place,  our  chief  care  should  be  not  to 
harden  our  hearts  against  the  motions  of  the  Spirit  stirring  us  to  season- 
able grief,  for  that  may  cause  a  judicial  hardness  from  God.  God  oft  in- 
flicteth  some  spiritual  judgment  as  a  correction  upon  men,  for  not  yielding 
to  his  Spirit  at  the  first ;  they  feel  a  hardness  of  heart  growing  upon  them. 
This  made  the  church  complain,  *  Why  hast  thou  hardened  our  hearts  from 
thy  fear?'  Isa.  kiii.  17.  Which  if  Christians  did  well  consider,  they 
would  more  carefuUy  entertain  such  impressions  of  sorrow,  as  the  Spirit 
in  the  use  of  the  means,  and  observation  of  God's  dealing  towards  them- 
selves or  others,  shall  work  in  them,  than  they  do.  It  is  a  saying  of 
Austin,  *  Let  a  man  grieve  for  his  sin,  and  joy  for  his  grief.'  Though 
we  can  neither  love,  nor  grieve,  nor  joy  of  ourselves,  as  we  should,  yet 
our  hearts  tell  us,  we  are  often  guilty  of  giving  a  check  to  the  Spirit's  stir- 
ring these  afiections  in  us,  which  is  a  main  cause  of  the  many  sharp  afiiic- 
tions  we  endure  in  this  life,  though  God's  love  in  the  main  matter  of  sal- 
vation be  most  firm  unto  us. 

Third,  We  must  not  think  to  have  aU  this  grief  at  first,  and  at  once,  for 
oftentimes  it  is  deeper  after  a  sight  and  feeling  of  God's  love  than  it  was 
before.  God  is  a  free  agent,  and  knows  every  man's  several  mould,  and 
the  several  services  he  is  to  use  them  in,  and  oft  takes  liberty  afterwards 
to  humble  men  more,  when  he  hath  enabled  them  better  to  bear  it,  than  in 
their  first  entrance  into  reUgion.  Grief  before  springs  commonly  from 
self-love  and  fear  of  danger.  Let  no  man  suspect  his  estate,  because  God 
spares  him  in  the  beginning.  For  Christians  many  times  meet  with  greater 
trial  after  their  conversion  than  ever  they  thought  on.  When  men  take 
little  fines,  they  mean  to  take  the  greater  rent.  God  will  have  his  children, 
first  or  last,  to  feel  what  sin  is ;  and  how  much  they  are  beholden  to  him 
for  Christ. 

This  grief  doth  not  always  arise  from  poring  on  sin,  but  by  oft  consider- 
ing of  the  infinite  goodness  of  God  in  Christ,  and  thereby  reflecting  on  our 
own  unworthiness,  not  only  in  regard  of  sin  past,  but  likewise  of  the  sin 
that  hangeth  upon  us,  and  issues  daily  from  us.  The  more  holy  a  man  is, 
the  more  he  sees  the  holiness  of  God's  nature,  with  whom  he  desires  to 
have  communion,  the  more  he  is  grieved  that  there  should  be  anjrthing 
found  in  him  displeasing  to  so  pure  a  Majesty. 

And  as  all  our  grief  comes  not  at  first,  so  God  will  not  have  it  come  all 
at  once,  but  to  be  a  stream  always  running,  fed  with  a  spring,  yet  within 
the  banks,  though  sometimes  deeper,  sometimes  shallower.  Grief  for  sin 
is  Uke  a  constant  stream ;  giief  for  other  things  is  like  a  torrent,  or  swell- 
ing waters,  which  are  soon  up,  soon  down ;  what  it  wants  in  greatness  is 
made  up  in  continuance. 

Fourth,  Again,  if  we  watch  not  our  nature,  there  will  be  a  spice  of  popery, 
which  is  a  natural  reUgion,  in  this  great  desire  of  more  grief ;  as,  if  we  had 
that,  then  we  had  something  to  satisfy  God  withal,  and  so  our  minds  will 
run  too  much  upon  works.  This  grief  must  not  only  be  wrought  by  God 
revealing  our  sin,  and  his  mercy  unto  us  in  Christ;  but  when  it  is  wrought, 
we  must  altogether  rest,  in  a  sense  of  our  own  emptiness,  upon  the  full 
satisfaction  and  worthiness  of  Christ  our  Saviour. 

All  this  that  hath  been  said  tends  not  to  the  abating  of  our  desire  to 


THE  SOUIi's  CONFLICT.  237 

have  a  tender  and  bleeding  heart  for  sin  ;  but  that  in  the  pursuit  of  this 
desire,  we  be  not  cast  down  so  as  to  question  our  estates,  if  we  feel  not 
that  measure  of  grief  which  we  desire  and  endeavour  after,  or  to  refuse  our 
portion  of  joy  winch  God  offers  us  in  Christ,  consideriag  grief  is  no  further 
good  than  it  makes  way  for  joy ;  which  caused  our  Saviour  to  join  them 
together :  blessed  are  the  mourners,  for  they  shall  be  comforted.'  Being 
thus  disposed,  we  may  commit  our  souls  to  God  in  peace,  notwithstanding 
Satan's  troubling  of  us  in  the  hour  of  temptation. 


Chapter  XXm. — Other  spiritual  causes  of  the  soul's  trovhle  discovered 
"    and  removed ;  and  objections  answered. 

Another  thing  that  disquiets  and  casts  down  the  soul  very  much  is,  that   ca^*'^^  y 
inward  conflict  betwixt  grace  and  corruption.     This  makes  us  most  work,      "'''  JiA 
and  puts  us  to  most  disqmetmen^     Proximorum  odia  sunt  acerbissima.     It    Pa/^ 
is  the  trouble  of  troubles  to  have  two  inhabitants  so  near  in  one  soul,  and 
these  to  strive  one  against  another,  in  every  action,  and  at  all  times  in 
every  part  and  power  in  us :  the  one  carrying  us  upward,  higher  and  higher 
still,  till  we  come  to  God ;  the  other  pulling  us  lower  and  lower,  further 
from  him.     This  cannot  but  breed  a  great  disquiet,  when  a  Christian  shall 
be  put  on  to  that  which  he  would  not,  and  hindered  from  that  which  he 
would  do,  or  troubled  in  the  performance  of  it,  Rom.  vii.  21—23.     The 
more  hght  there  is  to  discern,  and  life  of  grace  to  be  sensible  hereof,  and 
the  more  love  of  Christ,  and  desire  from  love  to  be  like  to  him,  the  more 
irksome  wiU  this  be.     No  wonder  then  that  the  apostle  cried  out,  '  0 
wretched  man  that  I  am,'  &c.,  Eom.  vii.  24. 

Here  is  a  special  use  of  trust  in  the  free  mercy  of  God  in  justification, 
considering  all  is  stained  that  comes  from  us.  It  is  one  main  end  of  God's 
leaving  us  ia  this  conflicting  condition,  that  we  may  live  and  die  by  faith 
in  the  perfect  righteousness  of  Christ,  whereby  we  glorify  God  more  than 
if  we  had  perfect  righteousness  of  our  oAvn.  Hereby  likewise  we  are  driven 
to  make  use  of  aU  the  promises  of  grace,  and  to  trust  in  God  for  the  per- 
formance of  them,  in  strengthening  his  own  party  in  us,  and  not  only  to 
trust  ia  God  for  particular  graces,  but  for  his  Spirit,  which  is  the  spring 
of  aU  graces,  which  we  have  through  and  from  Christ,  who  will  help  us  in 
this  fight  untn  he  hath  made  us  hke  himself.  We  are  under  the  govern- 
ment of  grace ;  siu  is  deposed  from  the  rule  it  had,  and  shall  never  recover 
the  right  it  had  agaia.  It  is  left  in  us  for  matter  of  exercise,  and  ground 
of  triumph. 

Obj.  Oh,  say  some,  I  shall  never  hold  out,  as  good  give  over  at  first 
as  at  last ;  I  find  such  strong  inclination  to  sin  in  me,  and  such  weakness 
to  resist  temptation,  that  I  fear  I  shall  but  shame  the  cause ;  I  shall  one 
day  perish,  by  the  hand  of  Satan  strengthening  my  corruption. 

A71S.  Why  art  thou  thus  troubled?  'Trust  in  God,'  grace  wiU  be  above 
nature  ;  God  above  the  devil,  the  spirit  above  the  flesh.  Be  strong  in  the 
Lord,  the  battle  is  his,  and  the  victory  ours  beforehand.  If  we  fought  in 
our  own  cause  and  strength,  and  with  our  weapons,  it  were  something ; 
but  as  we  fight  in  the  power  of  God,  so  are  *  we  kept  by  that  mighty  power 
through  faith  imto  salvation,'  1  Pet.  i.  6.  It  Hes  upon  the  faithfulness  of 
Christ,  to  put  us  iuto  that  possession  of  glory  which  he  hath  purchased  for 
us ;  therefore  charge  the  soul  to  make  use  of  the  promises,  and  rely  upon 
God  for  perfecting  the  good  work  that  he  hath  begun  in  thee. 


238  THE  soul's  CONlTilCT. 

Corruptions  be  strong,  but  stronger  is  be  that  is  in  us  than  that  corrup- 
tion that  is  in  us.  When  we  are  weak  in  our  own  sense,  then  are  we  strong 
in  him  who  perfecteth  strength  in  our  weakness,  felt  and  acknowledged. 
Our  corruptions  are  God's  enemies  as  well  as  ours,  and,  therefore,  in  trust- 
ing to  him  and  fighting  against  them,  we  may  be  sure  be  will  take  our  part 
against  them. 

Obj.  But  I  have  great  impediments  and  many  discouragements  in  my 
Christian  course. 

Ans.  What  if  our  impediments  be  mountains,  faith  is  able  to  remove 
them.  'Who  art  thou,  0  mountain?'  Zech.  iv.  7,  saith  the  prophet.  What 
a  world  of  impediments  were  there  betwixt  Egj'pt  and  the  land  of  Canaan, 
betwixt  the  return  out  of  Babylon  and  Jerusalem  ;  yet  faith  removed  all  by 
looking  to  God's  power  and  truth  in  his  promise.  The  looking  too  much 
to  the  Anakims  and  giants,  and  too  little  to  God's  omnipotency,  shut  the 
Israelites  out  of  Canaan,  and  put  God  to  his  oath  that  they  should  '  never 
enter  into  his  rest,'Ps.  xcv.  11;  audit  will  exclude  our  souls  from  happiness 
at  length,  if,  looldng  too  much  upon  these  Anakims  within  us  and  without 
us,  we  basely  despair  and  give  over  the  field,  considering  all  our  enemies 
are  not  only  conquered  for  us  by  our  Head,  but  shall  be  conquered  in  us, 
so  that  in  strength  of  assistance  we  fight  against  them.  God  gave  the 
Israelites'  enemies  into  their  hands,  but  yet  they  must  fight  it  out ;  and 
what  coward  wiU  not  fight  when  he  is  sure  of  help  and  victory  ? 

Obj.  But  I  carry  continually  about  me  a  corrupt  heart ;  if  that  were  once 
changed,  I  could  have  some  comfort. 

A  new  heart  is  God's  creature,  and  he  hath  promised  to  create  it  in  us, 
Ps.  li.  10,  Eph.  ii.  10.  A  creating  power  can,  not  only  bring  something  out  of 
nothing,  but  contrary  out  of  contrary.  Where  we  are  sure  of  God's  truth, 
let  us  never  question  that  power  to  which  all  things  are  possible.  If  our 
hearts  were  as  ill  as  God  is  powerful  and  good,  there  were  some  ground  of 
discouragement.  In  what  measure  we  give  up  our  hearts  to  God,  in  that  mea- 
sure we  are  sure  to  receive  them  better.  That  grace  which  enlargeth  the 
heart  to  desire  good  is  therefore  given  that  God  may  increase  it,  being  both 
a  part  and  a  pledge  of  further  grace,  Ezek.  xxxvi.  25.  There  is  a  promise 
of  pouring  clean  water  upon  us  which  faith  must  sue  out.  Christ  hath 
taken  upon  him  to  purge  his  spouse,  and  make  her  fit  for  himself,  Eph.  v. 
26,  27. 

Obj.  But  I  have  many  wants  and  defects  to  be  suppHed. 

A^is.  It  pleaseth  him  that  in  Christ  *  all  fulness  shall  dwell,'  Col.  i.  19, 
from  whose  fuhiess  grace  sufficient  is  dispensed  to  us  answerable  to  the 
measure  of  our  faith,  whereby  we  fetch  it  from  the  fountain.  The  more 
we  trust,  the  more  we  have.  When  we  look,  therefore,  to  our  own  want, 
we  should  look  withal  to  Christ's  fulness  and  his  nearness  to  us,  and  take 
advantage  from  our  misery  to  rest  upon  his  aU- sufficiency  whose  fulness  is 
ours,  as  himself  is.  Our  fulness,  with  our  life,  is  hid  in  Christ,  and  distilled 
into  us  in  such  measure  as  his  wisdom  thinketh  fit  and  as  sheweth  him  to 
be  a  free  agent,  and  yet  so  as  the  blame  for  want  of  grace  lieth  upon  us, 
seeing  he  is  beforehand  with  us  in  his  offers  of  grace ;  and  our  own  con- 
sciences will  tell  us  that  our  failings  are  more  from  cherishing  of  some 
lust  than  from  unwillingness  in  him  to  supply  us  with  grace. 

Obj.  But  God  is  of  pure  eyes,  and  cannot  endure  such  services  as  I  perform. 

Ans.  Though  God  be  of  pure  eyes,  yet  he  looks  upon  us  in  '  Him  who  is 
blameless  and  without  spot,'  Heb.  ix.  14,  who,  by  virtue  of  his  sweet- smelling 
sacrifice,  appears  for  us  in  heaven,  and  mingles  his  odours  with  our  services ; 


THE  soul's  OOKFLIOT. 

and  in  him  will  God  be  known  to  us  by  the  name  of  a  kind  Father,  not 
only  in  pardoning  our  defects,  but  accepting  our  endeavours.  We  offer  our 
services  to  God,  not  in  our  own  name,  but  in  the  name  of  our  High  Priest, 
who  takes  them  from  us,  and  presents  them  to  his  Father  as  stirred  up  by 
his  Spirit  and  perfumed  by  his  obedience.  Jonah's  prayer  was  mingled 
with  a  great  deal  of  passion  and  imperfection,  yet  God  could  discern  some- 
thing of  his  own  in  it,  and  pity  and  pardon  the  rest. 

Chapteb  XXIV. — Of  outward  troubles  disquieting  the  spirit,  and  comforts 

in  tliem. 

As  for  the  outward  evils  that  we  meet  withal  in  this  life,  they  are  either 
such,  1,  As  deprive  us  of  the  comforts  our  nature  is  supported  withal;  or 
else,  2,  They  bring  such  misery  upon  our  nature  or  condition  that  hinders 
our  well-being  in  this  world. 

1.  For  the  first,  trust  in  God,  and  take  out  of  his  all-sufficiency  whatsoever 
we  want.  Sure  we  are  by  his  promise  that  we  shall  want  nothing  that  is 
good.  What  he  takes  away  one  way,  he  can  give  another ;  what  he  takes 
away  in  one  hand,  he  can  give  another ;  what  he  withholds  one  way,  he  can 
supply  in  a  befcter,*  Whatsoever  comfort  we  have  in  goods,  friends,  health, 
or  any  other  blessings,  it  is  all  conveyed  by  him,  who  still  remains,  though 
these  be  taken  from  us.  And  we  have  him  bound  in  many  promises  for 
all  that  is  needful  for  us.  We  may  sue  him  upon  his  own  bond.  Can  we 
think  that  he  who  will  give  us  a  kingdom,  will  fail  us  in  necessary  provision 
to  bring  us  thither,  who  himself  is  our  portion  ? 

2.  As  for  those  miseries  which  our  weak  nature  is  subject  to,  they  are  all 
under  Cbrist.  They  come  and  go  at  his  command ;  they  are  his  messengers, 
sent  for  our  good,  and  called  back  again  when  they  have  done  what  they 
came  for.  Therefore,  look  not  so  much  upon  them  as  to  Him  for  strength 
and  comfort  in  them,  mitigation  of  them,  and  grace  to  profit  by  them. 

To  strengthen  our  faith  the  more  in  God,  he  calleth  himself  a  buckler 
for  defence  from  HI,  and  an  '  exceeding  great  reward,'  Gen.  xv.  1,  for  a 
supply  of  all  good ;  a  sun  for  the  one,  and  a  shield  for  the  other.  Tmst 
him,  then,  with  health,  wealth,  good  name,  all  that  thou  hast.  It  is  not 
in  man  to  take  away  that  from  us  which  God  will  give  us  and  keep  for  us. 
It  is  not  in  man's  power  to  make  others  conceive  what  they  please  of  us. 

Among  crosses  this  is  that  which  disquieteth  not  the  mind  least,  to  be 
deceived  in  matter  of  trust,  whenas  if  we  had  not  trusted  we  had  not  been 
deceived.  The  very  fear  of  being  disappointed  made  David  in  his  haste 
think  '  all  men  were  hars,'  Ps.  cxvi.  11.  But  as  it  is  a  sharp  cross,  so  nothing 
will  drive  us  nearer  unto  God,  who  never  faileth  his. 

Friends  often  prove  as  the  '  reed  of  Egypt,  as  a  broken  staff,'  Ezek.  xxix.  6, 
*  and  as  a  deceitful  brook,'  Job  vi.  15,  that  fails  the  weary  passenger  in 
summer  time,  when  there  is  most  need  of  refreshing  ;  and  it  is  the  unhap- 
piness  of  men,  otherwise  happy  in  the  world,  that  during  their  prosperous 
condition,  they  know  not  who  be  their  fiiends ;  for  when  their  condition 
declines,  it  plainly  appears,  that  many  were  friends  of  their  estates,  and  not 
of  their  persons.  But  when  men  will  know  us  least,  God  will  know  us 
most.  He  knows  our  souls  in  adversity,  and  knows  them  so  as  to  support 
and  comfort  them,  and  that  from  the  spring-head  of  comfort,  whereby  the 
sweetest  comforts  are  fetched.  What  God  conveyed  before  by  friends,  that 
he  doth  now  instil  immediately  from  himself.  The  immediate  comforts  are 
♦  In  Margin, '  Amaziah.' 


240  THE  soul's  conflict. 

the  strongest  comforts.  Our  Saviour  Christ  told  his  disciples,  that  they 
would  '  leave  him  alone  ;  yet,  saith  he,  I  am  not  alone,  but  the  Father  is 
with  me,'  John  xvi.  32.  At  St  Paiil's  first  appealing  '  all  forsook  him,  but 
the  Lord  stood  by  him,'  2  Tim.  iv.  16.  He  wants  no  company  that  hath 
Christ  for  his  companion.  Solus  non  est  cui  Clmstvs  comes  est. — Cypr[ian.J  '  I 
looked  for  some  to  take  pity,'  saith  David,  *  but  there  was  none,  Ps.  Ixix.  20. 
This  unfaithfulness  of  man  is  a  foil  to  set  out  God's  truth,  who  is  never 
nearer  than  when  trouble  is  nearest.  There  is  not  so  much  as  a  shadow  of 
change  in  him  or  his  love. 

It  is  just  with  God  when  we  lay  too  much  weight  of  confidence  upon  any 
creatm'e,  to  let  us  have  the  greater  fall.  Man  may  fail  us  .and  yet  be  a 
good  man,  but  God  cannot  fail  us  and  be  God,  because  he  is  truth  itself. 
Shall  God  be  so  true  to  us,  and  shall  not  we  be  true  to  him  and  his  truth  ? 

The  hke  may  be  said  in  the  departure  of  our  friends.  Our  life  is  oft  too 
much  in  the  hfe  of  others,  which  God  takes  unkindly.  How  many  friends 
have  we  in  him  alone !  who  rather  than  we  shall  want  friends,  can  make 
our  enemies  our  friends.  A  true  beUever  is  to  Christ  as  his  mother, 
brother,  and  sister,  because  he  carries  that  afiection  to  them,  as  if  they 
were  mother,  brother,  and  sister,  to  him  indeed,  Mat.  xii.  50.  As  Christ 
makes  us  all  to  him,  so  should  we  make  him  aU  in  all  to  ourselves.  If  aU 
comforts  in  the  world  were  dead,  we  have  them  still  in  the  living  Lord. 

Sicknesses  are  harbingers  of  death,  and  in  the  apprehension  of  many 
they  be  the  greatest  troubles,  and  tame  great  spirits,  that  nothing  else 
could  tame.  Herein  we  are  more  to  deal  with  God  than  with  men,  which 
is  one  comfort  sickness  yieldeth  above  other  troubles.  It  is  better  to  be 
troubled  with  the  distempers  of  our  own  bodies,  than  with  the  distempers 
of  other  men's  souls  ;  in  which  we  have  not  only  to  deal  with  men,  but  with 
the  devH  himself,  that  ruleth  in  the  humours  of  men. 

The  example  of  Asa,  2  Chron.  xvi.  12,  teaches  us  in  this  case  not  to  lay 
too  much  trust  upon  the  physician,  but  with  Hezekiah  first  look  up  to  God, 
and  then  use  the  means,  2  Kings  xix.  14,  15.  If  God  will  give  us  a 
quietus  est,  and  take  us  ofi"  from  business  by  sickness,  then  we  have  a  time 
of  serving  God  by  patient  subjection  to  his  wiU.  If  he  means  to  use  our 
service  any  further,  he  wiU  restore  our  health  and  strength  to  do  that  work 
he  sets  us  about.  Health  is  at  his  command,  and  sickness  stays  at  his 
rebuke.  In  the  mean,  the  time  of  sickness  is  a  time  of  purging  from  that 
defilement  we  gathered  in  our  health,  tiU  we  come  purer  out ;  which  should 
move  us  the  rather  willingly  to  abide  God's  time.  Blessed  is  that  sickness 
that  proves  the  health  of  the  soul.  We  are  best,  for  the  most  part,  when  we 
are  weakest,  Optimi  sumus  dum  infirmi  sumus.  Then  it  appears  what  good 
proficients  we  have  been  in  time  of  health. 

Carnal  men  are  oft  led  along  by  false  hopes  suggested  by  others,  and 
cherished  by  themselves,  that  they  shall  Uve  still  and  do  well  till  death 
comes  and  cuts  off  their  vain  confidence  and  their  life  both  at  once,  before 
ever  they  are  acquainted  what  it  is  to  trust  in  God  aright,  in  the  use  of 
means.  We  should  labour  to  learn  of  St  Paul  in  desperate  cases,  to  re- 
ceive the  sentence  of  death,  and  not  to  trust  in  ourselves,  but  in  God  '  that 
raiseth  the  dead,'  2  Cor.  i.  9.  He  that  raiseth  our  dead  bodies  out  of 
the  grave,  can  raise  our  diseased  bodies  out  of  the  bed  of  sickness,  if  he 
hath  a  pleasure  to  serve  himself  by  us. 

In  aU  kind  of  troubles,  it  is  not  the  ingredients  that  God  puts  into  the 
cup  so  much  afflicts  us,  as  the  ingredients  of  our  distempered  passions 
mingled  with  them.     The  sting  and  core  of  them  all  is  sin.     When  that  ia 


THK  soul's  conflict.  241 

not  only  pardoned,  but  in  some  measure  healed,  and  the  proud  flesn  eaten 
out,  then  a  healthy  soul  will  bear  anything.  After  repentance,  that  trouble 
that  before  was  a  coiTection,  becomes  now  a  trial  and  exercise  of  grace. 
'  Strike,  Lord,'  saith  Luther,  '  I  bear  anything  wilhngly,  because  my  sins 
are  forgiven.'  We  should  not  be  cast  down  so  much  about  outward  troubles, 
as  about  sin,  that  both  procures  them  and  envenoms  them.  We  see  by 
experience,  when  conscience  is  once  set  at  liberty,  how  cheerfully  men  will 
go  under  any  burden ;  therefore  labour  to  keep  out  sin,  and  then  let  come 
what  will  come. 

It  is  the  fooHsh  wisdom  of  the  world  to  prevent  trouble  by  sin,  which  is 
the  way  indeed  to  pull  the  greatest  trouble  upon  us.  For  sin  dividing  be- 
twixt God  and  us,  moveth  him  to  leave  the  soul  to  entangle  itself  in  its  own 
ways.  When  the  conscience  is  clear,  then  there  is  nothing  between  God 
and  us  to  hinder  our  trust.  Outward  troubles  rather  drive  us  nearer  unto 
God,' and  stand  with  his  love.  But  sin  defileth  the  soul,  and  sets  it  further 
fi-om  God.  It  is  well-doing  that  enables  us  to  commit  our  souls  cheerfully 
unto  him,  1  Pet.  iii.  21.  Whatsoever  our  outward  condition  be,  '  if  our 
hearts  condemn  us  not,  we  may  have  boldness  with  God,'  1  John.  iii.  21.  In 
any  trouble  our  care  should  be,  not  to  avoid  the  trouble,  but  sinful  miscarriage 
in  and  about  the  trouble,  and  so  trust  God.  It  is  a  heavy  condition  to  be 
under  the  burden  of  trouble,  and  under  the  burden  of  a  guilty  conscience 
both  at  once.  When  men  will  '  walk  ia  the  hght  of  their  own  fire,  and  the 
sparks  which  they  have  kindled  themselves,  it  is  just  with  God  that  they 
should  lie  down  in  sorrow,'  Isa.  1.  11. 

Whatsoever  injuries  we  suffer  from  those  that  are  ill  affected  to  us,  let 
Hs  commit  our  cause  to  the  '  God  of  vengeance,'  Isa.  lix.  17,  and  not  meddle 
with  his  prerogative.  He  will  revenge  om-  cause  better  than  we  can,  and 
more  j)erhaps  than  we  desire.  The  wronged  side  is  the  safer  side.*  If, 
instead  of  meditating  revenge,  we  can  so  overcome  ourselves  as  to  pray  for 
our  enemies,  and  deserve  well  of  them,  we  shall  both  sweeten  our  own 
spirits,  and  prevent  a  sharp  temptation  which  we  are  prone  unto  ;  and 
have  an  undoubted  argument  that  we  are  sons  of  that  Father  that  doth 
good  to  his  enemies,  and  members  of  that  Saviour  that  prayed  for  his 
persecutors,  Luke  xxiii.  34.  And  withal  by  '  heaping  coals,'  Eom. 
xii.  20,  upon  our  enemies,  shall  melt  them  either  to  conversion  or  to  con- 
fusion. 

But  the  greatest  trial  of  trust  is  in  our  last  encounter  with  death,  wherein 
we  shall  find  not  only  a  deprivation  of  all  comforts  in  this  life,  but  a  con- 
fluence of  all  ill  at  once ;  but  we  must  know,  God  will  be  the  God  of  his 
unto  death,  and  not  only  unto  death,  but  in  death.  We  may  trust  God 
the  Father.'  with  our  bodies  and  souls  which  he  hath  created ;  and  God  the 
Son  with  the  bodies  and  souls  which  he  hath  redeemed ;  and  the  Holy 
Spirit  with  those  bodies  and  souls  that  he  hath  sanctified.  We  are  not 
disquieted  when  we  put  off  oui'  clothes  and  go  to  bed,  because  we  trust 
God's  ordinary  providence  to  raise  us  up  again.  And  why  should  we  be 
disquieted  when  we  put  off  our  bodies  and  sleep  our  last  sleep,  considering 
we  are  more  sure  to  rise  out  of  our  graves  than  out  of  our  beds  ?  Nay, 
we  are  raised  up  already  in  Christ  our  Head,  '  who  is  the  resurrection  and 
the  hfe,'  John  xi.  25,  in  whom  we  may  triumph  over  death,  that  triumph- 
eth  over  the  greatest  monarchs,  as  a  disarmed  and  conquered  enemy.  Death 
is  the  death  of  itself,  and  not  of  us.  If  we  would  have  faith  ready  to  die 
by,  we  must  exercise  it  well  in  li\dng  by  it,  and  then  it  will  no  more  fail 

*  Melior  est  tristitia  iniqua  patieutis,  quain  Icetitia  iniqua  facientis. — Aug. 
TOL  .  1.  <4 


242  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

US  than  the  good  things  we  lay  hold  on  by  it,  until  it  hath  brought  us  into 
heaven,  where  that  office  of  it  is  laid  aside.  Here  is  the  prerogative  of  a 
■  true  Christian  above  an  hypocrite  and  a  worldling,  whenas  their  trust,  and 
the  thing  they  trust  in,  fails  them,  then  a  true  believer's  trust  stands  him 
in  greatest  stead. 

In  regard  of  our  state  after  death,  a  Christian  need  not  be  disquieted, 
for  the  angels  are  ready  to  do  their  office  in  carrying  his  soul  to  paradise, 
those  '  mansions  prepared  for  him,'  John  xiv.  2.  His  Saviour  will  be  his 
judge,  and  the  Head  will  not  condemn  the  members ;  then  he  is  to  receive 
the  fruit  and  end  of  his  faith,  the  reward  of  his  hope ;  which  is  so  great 
and  so  sm-e,  that  our  trusting  in  God  for  that,  strengtheneth  the  heart  to 
trust  him  for  aU  other  things  in  our  passage ;  so  that  the  refreshing  of  our 
faith  in  these  great  things,  refreshes  its  dependence  upon  God  for  all  things 
here  below.  And  how  strong  helps  have  we  to  uphold  our  faith  in  those 
great  things  which  we  are  not  able  to  conceive  of,  till  we  come  to  possess 
them !  Is  not  our  husband  there  ?  and  hath  he  not  taken  possession  for 
us  ?  Doth  he  not  keep  our  place  for  us  ?  Is  not  our  flesh  there  in  him  ? 
and  his  Spirit  below  with  us  ?  Have  we  not  some  first-fruits  and  earnest 
of  it  before  hand  ?  Is  not  Christ  now  fitting  and  preparing  of  us  daily,  for 
what  he  hath  prepared  and  keeps  for  us  ?  Whither  tends  all  we  meet 
with  in  this  world,  that  comes  betwixt  us  and  heaven,  as  desertions,  in- 
ward conflicts,  outward  troubles,  and  death  at  last,  but  to  fit  us  for  a  better 
condition  hereafter,  and  by  faith  therein  to  stir  up  a  strong  desire  after  it  ? 
'  Comfort  one  another  with  these  things,'  saith  the  apostle,  1  Thes.  iv.  18; 
these  be  the  things  will  comfort  the  soul. 

Chapter  XXV. — Of  the  defects  of  gifts,  disquieting  the  soul;  as  also 
the  affiictions  of  the  church. 

Among  other  things,  there  is  nothing  more  disquiets  a  Christian,  that  is 
called  to  the  fellowship  of  Christ  and  his  church  here,  and  to  glory  hereafter, 
jfff.  than  that  he  sees  himself  unfurnished  with  those  gifts  that  are  fit  for  the 
calling  of  a  saint j  as  likewise  for  that  particular  standing  and  place  wherein 
trod  hath  set  him  in  this  world,  by  being  a  member  of  a  body  politic. 
fjffjff^-  For  our  Christian  caUing,  we  must  know  that  Christianity  is  a  matter 
rather  of  grace  than  of  fjjft.s.  of  obedience  than  of  parts.  Gifts  may  come 
from  a  more  common  work  of  the  Spirit ;  they  are  common  to  (Jastaways, 
and  are  more  for  others  than  for  om-selves.  Grace  comes  fi'om  a  peculiar 
favour  of  God,  and  especially  for  our  own  good.  In  the  same  duty,  where 
there  is  required  gifts  and  grace,  as  in  prayer,  one  may  perform  it  with 
evidence  of  gi-eater  gi-ace  than  another  of  greater  parts.  Moses,  a  man 
not  of  the  b^st.  papfff^li,  -n^Qq  chosen  before  Aaron  to  speak  to  God,  Exod. 
vu.  11;  and  to  strive  with  him  by  prayer,  whilst  Israel  fought  with  Amalek 
with  the  sword,  l^xod.  xvii  IT!  It  is  a  business  more  of  the  heart  than  of 
the  tongue,  more  of  f;ri-nana  than  of  words,  which  groans  and  sighs  the 
spirit  will  always  stir  up  even  in  the  worst  condition.  Yet  for  parts  there 
is  no  member,  but  it  is  fitted  with  some  abilities  to  do  service  in  the  body, 
and  by  faith  may  grow  up  to  a  greater  measure.  For  God  calls  none  to 
that  high  condition,  but  whom  in  some  measure  he  fits  to  be  an  useful 
member,  and  endows  with  a  public  spirit. 

But  that  is  the  measure  which  Christ  thinks  fit ;  who  vnll  make  up  that 
in  the  body  which  is  wanting  in  any  particular  member.  God  will  increase 
the  measure  of  our  gifts  as  occasion  shall  be  offered  to  draw  them  forth ; 


THE  soul's  conflict.  243 

for  there  is  not  the  greatest  but  may  have  use  both  of  the  parts  and  graces 
of  the  meanest  in  the  cJaurcn.  And  here  the  soul  may  by  a  spirit  of  faith 
go  to  God  in  this  manner :  Lord,  the  state*  of  Christianity  unto  which  thy 
love  in  Christ  hath  called  and  advanced  me,  is  a  high  condition ;  and  there 
is  need  of  a  great  measure  of  grace  to  uphold  the  credit  and  comfort  of  it. 
Whom  thou  callest  unto  it,  thou  dost  in  some  measure  furnish  to  walk 
worthy  of  it.  Let  this  be  an  evidence  to  my  soul  of  the  truth  of  thy  call, 
that  I  am.  enabled  by  the  Spirit  for  those  duties  that  are  required  ;  in  con- 
fidence of  which  assistance  I  will  set  upon  the  work :  '  Thou  hast  promised 
to  give  wisdom  to  them  that  ask  it,  and  to  upbraid  none  with  their  unwor- 
thiness.  Nay, '  thou  hast  promised  the  Spirit  of  all  grace  to  those  that  beg  it>' 
James  i.  5.  It  is  that  which  I  need,  and  it  is  no  more  than  thou  hast  promised. 

Caution.  Only  it  must  be  remembered,  that  we  do  not  walk  above  our 
parts  and  graces,  the  issue  whereof  will  be  discouragement  in  ourselves 
and  ^sgrace  trom  others. 

The  like  may  be  said  for  our  particular  calling,  wherein  we  are  to  express 
the  graces  of  our  Christian  calling,  and  *  serve  one  another  in  love,^  Gal. 
V.  13,  as  members  of  the  state  as  weU  as  of  the  church.  Therefore  every 
one  must  have,  1,  a  calling;  2,  a  lawful;  3,  a_usefal  calling ;  4,  a  calling 
fitted  for  his  parts,  that  he  may  be  even  for  Tus  business^  pares  negotio  ; 
5,  a  lawful  entrance  and  calling  thereunto ;  6,  and  a  lawful  demeanour  in 
the  same.  Though  the  orb  and  sphere  we  walk  in  be  little,  yet  we  must 
keep  within  the  bounds  of  it,  because  for  our  carriage  in  that,  we  must  give 
a  strict  account ;  and  there  is  no  calling  so  mean  but  a  man  shall  find 
enough  to  give  a  good  account  for  (i).  Our  care  must  be  to  know  our 
^ork,  and  then  to  do  it ;  and  so  to  do  it  as  if  it  were  unto  God,  with  con- 
science  ot  moderate  diligence ;  for  over- doing  and  over- working  anything 
comes  either  from  ostentation  or  distrust  in  God ;  and  negligence  is  so  far 
from  getting  any  blessing,  that  it  brings  us  under  a  '  curse  for  doing  God's 
work  negligently,'  Jer.  xlviii.  10.  For  we  must  think  our  callings  to  be 
services  of  God,  who  hath  appointed  us  our  standing  therein. 

That  which  belongs  to  us  in  our  calUng  is  care  of  discharging  our  duty ; 
that  which  God  takes  upon  him  is  assistance,  and  good  success  in  it.  Let  us 
do  our  work,  and  leave  God  to  do  Jiis  own.  Diligence  and  trust  in  him 
is  only  ours,  the  rest  of  the  burden  is  his.  Li  a  family  the  father's 
and  the  master's  care  is  the  greatest ;  the  child's  care  is  only  to  obey, 
and  the  servant's  to  do  his  work ;  care  of  provision  and  protection  doth 
not  trouble  them.  Most  of  our  disquietness  in  our  calling  is,  that  we 
trouble  ourselves  about  God's  work.  Trust  God  and  be  doing,  and  let  him 
alone  with  the  rest.  He  stands  upon  his  credit  so  much,  that  it  shaU 
appear  we  have  not  trusted  him  in  vain,  even  when  we  see  no  appearance 
of  doing  any  good.  Peter  fished  aU  night  and  catched  nothing,  yet  upon 
Christ's  word  he  casts  in  his  net  again,  and  caught  so  many  fish  as  break 
his  net,  Luke  v.  6.  Cnyetnnsness,  when  men  will  be  richer  than  God  would 
have  them,  troubles  allj  it  troubles  the  house,  the  whole  family,  and  the 
house  witJim  us,  our  precious  soul,  which  should  be  a  quiet  house  for  God's 
spirit  to  dwell  in,  whose  seat  is  a  quiet  spirit.  If  men  would  follow  Chi-ist's 
method,  and  '  seek  first  the  kingdom  of  heaven,'  Mat.  vi.  33,  all  other 
things  would  be  cast  upon  them.  If  thoughts  of  insufficiency  in  nnr  \) 
places  discourage  us,  remember  what  God  saith  to  Mnses,  whi^n  he  pre-  | 
tended  disability  to  speak.  '  Who  hath  made  man'a  montli^  Tinvp  nnt.  T  t.Kfl  1 
Lord  ?'  Exod.  iv.  11.     A^  our  sufficiencv  for  eveiy  calling  ia  from  God.     /V 

*  '  Estate,'  in  C. 


244  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

Obj.  But  you  will  say,  though  by  God's  blessing  my  particular  condition 
be  comfortable,  yet  the  state  of  God's  people  abroad,  and  the  miseries  of 
"the  timesj_disquiet  me. 

Jk   Ans.(WQ  complain  of  the  times,  but  let  us  take  heed  we  be  not  a  part  of 

the  misery  of  the  times  :  that  they  be  not  the  worse  for  us.  Indeed  he  is 
a  dead  member  that  takes  not  to  heart  the  ill  of  the  times,  yet  here  is 
place  for  that  complaint,  'Help,  Lord,'  Ps.  xii.  1.  In  these  tempests 
do  as  the  disciples  did,  cry  to  Christ  to  rebuke  the  tempests  and  storms. 
Mat.  viii.  25.  This  is  the  day  of  Jacob's  trouble,  let  it  also  be  the  day  of 
Jacob's  trust ;  let  the  body  do  as  the  head  did  in  the  like  case,  and  in  time 
it  shall  be  with  the  body  as  it  is  with  the  head. 

In  this  case  it  is  good  to  lay  before  God  all  the  promises  made  to  his 
chm'ch,  with  the  examples  of  his  presence  in  it,  and  deliverance  of  the  same 
- — ^  in  former  times.  God  is  never  nearer  his  church  than  when  trouble  is  near.  ^ 
When  in  earth  they  conclude  an  utter  overthrow,  God  is  in  heaven  con- 
cluding  a,  glorious  deliverance.  Usually  after  the  lowest  ebb,  follows  the 
highest  spring-tide.  Christ  stands  upon  Mount  Zion.  There  is  a  counsel 
in  heaven,  that  will  dash  the  mould  of  aU  contrary  counsels  on  earth ;  and 
which  is  more,  God  will  work  the  raising  of  the  church,  by  that  very  means 
by  which  his  enemies  seek  to  ruin  it.  '  Let  us  stand  still  and  behold  the 
salvation  of  the  Lord,'  Exod.  xiv.  13.  God  gave  too  dear  a  price  for  his 
church,  to  suffer  it  long  in  the  hands  of  merciless  enemies. 

As  for  the  seeming  flom'ishing  of  the  enemies  of  God's  church,  it  is  but 
for  a  time,  and  that  a  short  time,  and  a  measured  time.  '  The  wicked  plot 
against  the  just,'  Ps.  xxx\ii.  12  ;  they  '  are  plotters  and  ploughers  of  mis- 
chief,' Job  iv.  8 ;  they  are  skilful  and  industrious  in  it,  but  they  reap  their 
own  ruin.  '  Their  day  is  a  coming,'  Ps.  xxxvii.  12,  and  '  their  pit  is  in 
digging,'  Ps.  xciv.  13  ;  take  heed  therefore  of  fretting,  Ps.  xxxvii.  7  ; 
because  of  the  man  '  that  bringeth  wicked  devices  to  pass,  for  the  arms  of 
the  wicked  shall  be  broken,'  Ps.  xxx\ii.  17.*  We  should  help  our  faith  by 
observing  God's  executing  of  judgment  in  this  kind.  It  cannot  but  vex  the 
enemies  of  the  chm-ch,  to  see  at  length  a  disappointing  of  their  projects ; 
but  then  to  see  the  mould  of  aU  their  devices  turned  upon  their  own  heads, 
wiU  more  toiment  them. 

In  this  case,  it  wiU  much  comfort  to  go  into  the  sanctuary,  for  there  we 
shall  be  able  to  say,  '  Yet  God  is  good  to  Israel,'  Ps.  Ixxiii.  17.  God  hath 
an  ark  for  his.  There  is  no  condition  so  iU,  but  there  is  balm  in  Gilead, 
comfort  in  Israel.  The  depths  of  misery  are  never  beyond  the  depths  of 
mercy.  God  oft  for  this  very  end,  strips  his  church  of  all  helps  below, 
that  it  may  only  rely  upon  him  :  and  that  it  may  appear  that  the  church  is 
ruled  by  a  higher  power  than  it  is  opposed  by.  And  then  is  the  time  when 
we  may  expect  great  deliverances  of  the  chm-ch,  when  there  is  a  great  faith 
in  the  great  God. 

From  all  that  hath  been  said,  we  see  that  the  only  way  to  quiet  the  soul 
is,  to  lay  a  charge  upon  it  to  trust  God,  and  that  unquietness  and  impatiency 
are  symptoms  and  discoveries  of  an  unbeHeving  heart. 

CJhapteb  XXYI. — Of  divine  reasons  in  a  believer.     Of  his  minding  to  praise 
God,  more  than  to  be  delivered. 

To  go  on.     '  1  shall  yet  praise  him.' 

In  these  words  David  expresseth  the  reasons  and  grounds  of  his  trust, 
*  Read  Psalms  x.,  xxxvii.,  xciv.,  exxix.,  &c. 


THE  soul's  conflict.  245 

namely,  from  the  interest  lie  had  in  God  by  experience  and  special  covenant : 
wherein  in  general  we  may  observe,  that  those  ivho  truly  trust  in  God,  labour 
to  back  their  faith  xvith  sound  arguments.  Faith  is  an  understanding  grace  ; 
it  knows  whom  it  trusts,  and  for  what,  and  upon  what  grounds  it  trusts. 
Reason  of  itself  cannot  find  what  we  should  believe,  yet  when  God  hath 
discovered  the  same,  faith  teUs  us  there  is  great  reason  to  believe  it.  Faith 
useth  reason,  though  not  as  a  ground,  yet  as  a  sanctified  instrument  to  find 
out  God's  grounds,  that  it  may  rely  upon  them.  He  believes  best,  that 
knows  best  why  he  should  believe.  Confidence,  and  love,  and  other 
affections  of  the  soul,  though  they  have  no  reason  grafted  in  them,  yet  thus 
far  they  are  reasonable,  as  that  they  are  in  a  wise  man  raised  up,  guided, 
and  laid  down  with  reason ;  or  else  men  were  neither  to  be  blamed  nor 
praised  for  ordering  their  afiections  aright ;  whereas  not  only  civil  virtue,  but 
grace  itself  is  especially  conversant  in  ruling  the  affections  by  sanctified  reason. 

The  soul  guides  the  will  and  affections  otherwise  than  it  doth  the  out- 
ward members  of  the  body.  It  swavs  the  affectio-ns  of  p.onfidf-ncfi.  lov(^. 
joy,  &c.,  as  a  prince  doth  his  wiser  subjects,  and  as  counsellors  do  a  well 
ordered  state,  by  mimstermg  reasons  to  them  ;  but  the  soul  governs  the  out- 
wardmembers  by  command,  as  amaster  dotha  slave, — his  will  is  enough.  The 
hand  and  foot  move  upon  command,  without  regarding  any  reason ;  but  we  will 
not  trust  and  rejoice  in  God  without  reason,  or  a  show  of  reason  at  the  least. 

Sin  itself  never  wanted  a  reason,  such  as  it  is,  but  we  call  it  unreason- 
able, because  it  hath  no  good  reason  for  it ;  for  reason  being  a  beam  of  God, 
cannot  strengthen  any  work  of  darkness.  God  having  made  man  an  under- 
standing creature,  guides  him  by  a  way  suitable  to  such  a  condition,  and 
that  is  the  reason  why  God  in  mercy  yields  so  far  to  us  in  his  word,  as  to 
g;ive  us  so  many  reasons  of  our  affiance  in  him.  What  is  encouragement 
and  comfort  but  a  demonstration  to  us  of  greater  reasons  to  raise  us  up, 
than  there  are  to  cast  us  down  ? 

David's  reasons  here,  are  drawn  partly  from  some  promise  of  deliverance, 
and  partly  from  God's  nature  and  dealing  with  him,  whom,  as  he  had  for- 
merly found  a  healing  and  a  saving  God,  so  he  expects  to  find  him  still; 
and  partly  from  the  covenant  of  grace,  He  is  my  God. 

The  chief  of  his  reasons  are  fetched  from  God,  what  he  is  in  himself,  and 
what  he  is  and  will  be  to  his  children,  and  what  to  him  in  particular. 
Though  godly  men  have  reasons  for  their  trust,  yet  those  reasons  be  divine 
and  spiritual,  as  faith  itself  is  ;  for  as  naturally  as  beams  come  from  the  sun, 
and  branches  from  the  root,  even  so  by  divine  discourse  one  truth  issueth 
from  another.  And  as  the  beams  and  the  sun,  as  the  root  and  branches 
are  all  of  one  natm-e,  so  the  grounds  of  comfortable  truths,  and  reasons 
taken  from  those  grounds,  are  both  of  the  same  divinity  and  authority, 
though  in  time  of  temptation  discourse  is  oft  so  troubled,  that  it  cannot  see 
how  one  truth  riseth  from  another.  This  is  one  privilege  of  heaven,  that 
om'  knowledge  there  shall  not  be  so  much  discoursive,  proving  one  thing  by 
another,  as  definitive,  seeing  things  in  their  grounds  with  a  more  present 
view ;  the  soul  being  then  raised  and  enlarged  to  a  present  conceiving  of 
things,  and  there  being  no  flesh  and  blood  in  us  to  raise  objections  that 
must  be  satisfied  with  reasoning. 

Sometimes  in  a  clearer  state  of  the  soul,  faith  hath  not  so  much  use  of 
reasons,  but  upon  near  and  sweet  communion  with  God,  and  by  reason  of 
some  likeness  between  the  soul  that  hath  a  divine  nature  stamped  upon  it, 
and  God,  it  presei^tly,  without  any  long  discourse,  runneth  to  God,  as  it 
were,  by  a  supernatural  instinct,  as  by  a  natural  instinct  a  child  runneth  to 


246  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

his  father  in  any  distress.  Yea,  and  from  that  common  light  of  nature, 
which  discovereth  there  is  a  God,  even  natural  men  in  extremities  will  run 
■  to  God,  and  God  as  the  author  of  nature  will  sometimes  hear  them,  as  he 
doth  the  young  ravens  that  cry  unto  him  ;  but  comfortably,  and  with  assur- 
ance, only  those  have  a  familiar  recourse  unto  him,  that  have  a  sanctified 
suitable  disposition  unto  God,  as  being  well  acquainted  with  him. 

Sometimes  again  faith  is  put  to  it  to  use  reasons  to  strengthen  itself,  and 
therefore  the  soul  studieth  arguments  to  help  itself  by,  either  from  inward 
store  laid  up  in  the  soul,  or  else  it  hearkeneth  and  jdelds  to  reasons  sug- 
gested by  others ;  and  there  is  no  gracious  heart  but  hath  a  frame  suitable 
and  agreeable  to  any  holy  and  comfortable  truth  that  shall  be  brought  and 
enforced  upon  it.  There  is  something  in  his  spirit  that  answers  whatever 
comes  from  the  Spirit  of  God.  Though  perhaps  it  never  heard  of  it  before, 
yet  it  presently  claims  kindred  of  it,  as  coming  from  the  same  blessed 
spring,  the  Holy  Spirit ;  and,  therefore,  a  gracious  heart  sooner  takes  com- 
fort than  another,  as  being  prepared  to  close  with  it. 

The  reasons  here  brought  by  David,  are  not  so  much  arguments  to  con- 
vince his  judgment,  as  motives  and  inducements  to  incline  his  will  to  trust 
in  God  ;  for  trusting  being  a  holy  relying  upon  God,  carrieth  especially  the 
wiU  to  him.  Now  the  will  is  led  with  the  goodness  of  things,  as  the  un- 
derstanding is  led  with  truth.  The  heart  must  be  sweetened  with  consi- 
deration of  love  and  mercy  in  him  whom  we  trust,  as  well  as  convinced  of 
his  ability  to  do  us  good.  The  cords  that  draw  the  heart  to  trust  are  the 
cords  of  love,  and  the  cords  of  love  are  especially  the  love  of  him  to  us 
whom  we  love ;  and,  therefore  the  most  prevailing  reasons  that  carry  the 
whole  heart,  are  such  as  are  drawn  from  the  sweetness  of  God,  whereby  the 
heart  is  opened  and  enlarged  to  expect  all  good,  and  nothing  but  good 
from  him. 

But  we  must  remember  that  neither  reasons  from  the  truth  and  power  of 
God,  nor  inducements  or  allurements  from  the  goodness  of  God,  will  fur- 
ther prevail  with  the  soul,  than  it  hath  a  fresh  light  and  relish  brought  into 
it  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  to  discern  of  those  reasons,  and  answer  the  contrary. 

I  shall  yet  praise  him,*  or  I  will  yet  praise  him,  I  shall  because  I  will, 
and  I  will  praise  him  because  I  shall  have  occasion  to  praise  him.  When 
God  by  grace  enlarges  the  will,  he  intends  to  give  the  deed.  God's  chil- 
dren, wherein  their  wiUs  are  conformable  to  God's  wiU,  shall  have  their 
wills  fulfilled.  God  intends  his  own  glory  in  every  mercy,  and  he  that 
praises  him  glorifies  him,  Ps.  1.  23.  When  our  wills,  therefore,  carry  us  to  that 
which  God  wills  above  all,  we  may  well  expect  he  will  grant  us  what  we  will. 

'  I  shall  praise  him,'  because  I  have  prayed  unto  him.  It  is  God's  direc- 
tion, to  call  upon  him  in  trouble,  Ps.  1.  15,  and  it  is  his  promise  to  deliver, 
and  then  both  his  direction  and  promise  that  we  shall  glorify  him.  When 
troubles  stir  up  prayer,  God's  answer  to  them  will  stir  up  praises.  David, 
when  he  says  I  shall  praise  God,  pre-supposes  that  God  will  deliver  him, 
that  he  may  have  ground  of  praising  his  name ;  and  he  knew  God  would 
deliver  him,  because  as  from  faith  he  had  prayed  for  deUverance,  so  he  knew 
that  it  was  God's  order  in  his  dealing,  to  revive  after  drooping,  and  to 

*  '  I  shall  yet,'  to  ♦  fail  before  him.'  This  very  sweet  paragraph,  by  a  strange 
oversight,  was  omitted  in  B,  and  has  slipped  out  from  every  subsequent  edition.  Pro- 
bably it  was  displaced  in  B  to  allow  of  the  additions  referred  to  in  Note  g.  The  para- 
graph, '  David  minds,'  &c.,  that  immediately  follows,  is  twice  printed  in  B,  and  the 
closing  sentence  of  the  one  omitted  above,  occurs  at  page  531,  without  any  connection 
with  what  precedes.     G. 


THE  soul's  conflict.  247 

refresli  after  fainting.  God  knows  otherwise  that  our  spirits  would  fail 
before  him. 

I^will  praise  him.  David*  minds  praising  of  God  more  than  his  own 
delivery,  because  he  knew  his  own  delivery  was  intended  on  God's  part, 
that  he  might  be  glorified.  It  is  an  argument  of  an  excellent  spirit,  when 
all  self-respects  are  di'owned  in  the  glory  of  God :  and  there  is  nothing  lost 
therein,  for  our  best  being  is  in  God.  A  Christian  begins  with  loving  God 
for  himself ;  but  he  ends  in  loving  himself  in  and  for  God  :  and  so  his  end, 
and  God's  end,  and  the  end  of  all  things  else,  concentre  and  agree  in  one. 
We  may  aim  at  our  own  good,  so  we  bring  our  hearts  to  refer  it  to  the 
chief  good,  as  a  less  circle  may  well  be  contained  in  a  greater,  so  that  the 
Unes  drawn  from  both  circles,  meet  in  one  middle  point.  It  is  an  excellent 
ground  of  sincerity  to  desire  the  favour  of  God,  not  so  much  out  of  self- 
aims,  as  that  God  may  have  the  more  free  and  full  praise  from  us,  consi- 
dering the  soul  is  never  more  fit  for  that  blessed  duty,  than  when  it  is  in  a 
cheerful  plight. 

It  rejoiced  David  more  that  he  should  have  a  large  heart  to  serve  God, 
than  that  he  should  have  enlargement  of  condition.  Holy  dispositions 
think  not  so  much  of  the  time  to  come,  that  it  will  be  sweet  to  them,  as 
that  it  win  further  God's  praise.  True  grace  raiseth  the  soul  above  self- 
respects,  and  resteth  not  till  it  comes  to  the  chief  end  wherein  its  happiness 
consists. 

God  is  glorified  in  making  us  happy,  and  we  enjoying  happiness,  must 
glorify  God.  Although  God  condescend  so  low  unto  us,  as  not  only  to 
allow  us,  but  to  enjoin  us  to  look  to  our  own  freedom  from  misery,  and  en- 
joyment of  happiness,  yet  a  soul  thoroughly  seasoned  with  grace,  mounteth 
higher,  and  is  carried  with  pure  respects  to  advance  God's  glory  ;  yea, 
sometimes  so  far  as  to  forget  its  own  happiness.  It  respects  itself  for  God, 
rather  than  God  for  itself.  A  heavenly  soul  is  never  satisfied,  imtil  it  be 
as  near  God  as  is  attainable.  And  the  nearer  a  creature  comes  to  God, 
the  more  it  is  emptied  of  itself,  and  aU  self-aims.  Our  happiness  is  more 
in  him,  than  in  ourselves.  We  seek  ourselves  most  when  we  deny  ourselves 
most.  And  the  more  we  labour  to  advance  God,  the  more  we  advance  our 
own  condition  in  him. 

I  will  praise.  David  thinks  of  his  own  duty  in  praising  God  more  than 
of  God's  work  in  delivering  him.  Let  us  think  of  what  is  our  duty,  and 
God  will  think  of  what  shall  be  for  our  comfort.  We  shall  feel  God 
answering  what  we  look  for  from  him,  in  doing  what  he  expects  from  us. 
Can  we  have  so  mean  thoughts  of  him  as  that  we  should  intend  his  glory, 
and  he  not  much  more  intend  our  good  ? 

This  should  be  a  strong  plea  unto  usjin  our  prayers  to  prevail  with  God, 
when  we  engage  ourselves,  upon  the  revelation  of  his  mercy  to  us,  to  yield 
him  all  the  praises.  Lord,  as  the  benefit  and  comfort  shall  be  mine,  so  the 
praises  shall  be  thine  ! 

It  is  liUlp.  IftSR  jhan  blasphemY  to  praise  God  for  that  which  bv  unlawful 
shifts  we  have  procured ;  for  besides  the  hypocrisy  of  it,  in  seeming  to 
sacrifice  to  him,  when  we  sacrifice,  indeed,  to  our  own  wits  and  carnal 


helps,  we  make  him  a  patron  of  those  ways  which  he  most  abhors ;  audit 


is  idolatry  in  the  highest  degrftfi  to  trflnsfnrm  God  so  in  our  thoughts,  as  to 
think  he  is  pleased  with  that  which  comes  from  his  greatest  enemy.     And 
there  is  a  gross  mistake  to  take  God's  cm-se  for  a  blessing.     To  thrive  in 
an  iU  way  is  a  spiritual  judgment,  extremely  hardening  in  the  heart. 
*  '  Here,'  inserted  in  B. 


248  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

It  is  an  argument  of  David's  sincerity  here  that  he  meant  not  to  take 
any  indirect  com-se  for  delivering  himself,  because  he  intended  to  praise 
God,  which  as  no  guilty  conscience  can  offer,  being  afraid  to  look  God  in 
the  face,  so  God  would  abhor  such  a  sacrifice  w^ere  it  oifered  to  him.  St 
Paul  was  stirred  up  to  praise  God,  but  withal  he  was  assui-ed  '  God  would 
preserve  him  from  every  evil  work,'  2  Tim.  iv.  18. 

Sometimes,  indeed,  where  there  is  no  malicious  intention,  God  pardons 
some  breakings  out  of  flesh  and  blood,  endeavouring  to  help  ourselves  in 
danger,  so  far  as  not  to  take  advantage  of  them  to  desert  us  in  trouble ; 
as  in  David,  who  escaped  from  Achish  by  counterfeiting,  1  Sam.  xxvii.  10; 
and  this  yields  a  double  ground  of  thanMilness,  partly  for  God's  overlook- 
ing our  miscarriage,  and  partly  for  the  deliverance  itself.  Yet  this  indul- 
gence of  God  will  make  the  soul  more  ashamed  afterward  for  these  sinful 
shifts ;  therefore,  it  must  be  no  precedent  to  us.  There  can  neither  be 
grace  nor  wisdom  in  setting  upon  a  coui'se  wherein  we  can  neither  pray  to 
God  for  success  in,  nor  bless  God  when  he  gives  it.  In  this  case  God  most 
blesseth  where  he  most  crosseth,  and  most  curseth  where  the  deluded  heart 
thinks  he  blesseth  most. 


Chapter  XXVII. — In  our  worst  condition  we  have  cause  to  praise  God ; 
still  ample  cause  in  these  days. 

*  I  shall  yet  praise  him,  or  yet  I  will  yraise  God:'  that  is,  however  it  goeth 
with  me,  yet,  as  I  have  cause,  so  I  have  a  sphit  to  praise  God.  When  we 
are  at  the  lowest,  yet  it  is  a  mercy  that  we  are  not  consumed.  We  are 
never  so  ill  but  it  might  be  worse  with  us.  Whatsoever  is  less  than  hell  is 
undeserved.  It  is  a  matter  of  praise  that  yet  we  have  time  and  opportunity 
to  get  into  a  blessed  condition.  '  The  Lord  hath  afflicted  me  sore,  but  he 
hath  not  delivered  me  to  death,'  saith  David,  Ps.  x\iii.  18. 

In  the  worst  times  there  is  a  presence  of  God  with  his  children. 

1.  In  moderating  the  measure  of  the  crosSj  that  it  be  not  above  their 
strength. 

2.  In  moderatingthe  time  of  it.  *  The  rod  of  the  wicked  shall  not  rest 
long  upon  the  lot  oftherighteous,'  Ps.  cxxv.  3.  God  limits  both  measure 
and  time. 

3.  He  is  present  in  mixing  some  comfort,  and  so  allaying  the  bitterness 
of  a  cross. 

4.  Yea,  and  he.pipports  the  soul  by  inward  strength,  so  as  though  it 
faint,  yet  it  shall  not  utterly  fail. 

5.  God  is  present  in  sanctifying  a  cross  for  good,  and  at  length,  when 
he  hath  perfected  his  own  work  in  his,  he  is  present  for  a  final  deliverance  of 
them.  A  sound-hearted  Christian  hath  always  a  God  to  go  to,  a  promise  to 
go  to,  former  experience  to  go  to,  besides  some  present  experiences  of  God's 
goodness  which  he  enjoys.  For  the  present  he  is  a  child  of  God,  a  member 
of  Christ,  an  heir  of  heaven.  He  dwells  in  the  love  of  God  in  the  cross  as 
well  as  out  of  it.  He  may  be  cast  out  of  his  happy  condition  in  the  world, 
but  never  out  of  God's  favour. 

Obj.  If  God's  childi'en  have  cause  to  praise  God  in  their  worst  condition, 
what  difference  is  there  betwixt  their  best  estate  and  their  worst  ? 

Ans.  Howsoever  God's  children  have  continual  occasion  to  praise  God, 
yet  there  be  some  more  especial  seasons  of  praising  God  than  others ;  there 
be  days  of  God's  own  making  of  purpose  to  rejoice  in,  wherein  we  may  say, 


THE  soul's  conflict.  249 

*  This  is  the  day  which  the  Lord  hath  made,  let  us  rejoice  therein,'  Ps. 
cxviii,  24.  And  this  I  think  is  chiefly  intended  here.  David  comforts 
himself  with  this,  that  however  it  was  now  with  him,  yet  God  would  deal 
so  graciously  with  him  hereafter  that  he  should  have  cause  to  bless  his  name. 

Though  in  evil  times  we  have  cause  to  praise  God,  yet  so  we  are,  and 
such  are  our  spirits,  for  the  most  part,  that  afiliction  straitens  our  heaii-s. 
Therefore,  the  apostle  thought  it  the  fittest  duty  in  affliction  to  pray.  '  Is 
any  afflicted?  let  him  pray,'  saith  James;  'is  any  joyful?  let  him  sing 
psalms,'  James  v.  13 ;  shewing  that  the  day  of  rejoicing  is  the  fittest  day 
of  praising  God.  Every  work  of  a  Christian  is  beautiful  in  its  own  time. 
The  graces  of  Christianity  have  their  several  offices  at  several  seasons.  In 
trouble,  prayer  is  in  its  season.  '  In  the  evil  day  caU  upon  me,'  saith  God, 
Ps.  xci.  15.  In  better  times  praises  should  appear  and  shew  themselves. 
When  God  manifests  his  goodness  to  his,  he  gives  them  grace  with  it  to 
manifest  their  thankfuhiess  to  him.  Praising  of  God  is  then  most  comely, 
though  never  out  of  season,  when  God  seems  to  caU  for  it  by  renewing  the 
sense  of  his  mercies  in  some  fresh  favour  towards  us.  If  a  bird  will  sing  in 
winter,  much  more  in  the  spring.  If  the  heart  be  prepared  in  the  winter- 
time of  adversity  to  praise  God,  how  ready  will  it  be  when  it  is  warmed  with 
the  glorious  sunshine  of  his  favour  ! 

Our  life  is  nothing  but  as  it  were  a  web  woven  with  interminglings  of 
wants  and  favours,  crosses  and  blessings,  standings  and  fallings,  combat 
and  victory,  therefore  there  should  be  a  perpetual  intercom'se  of  praying 
and  praising  in  our  hearts.  There  is  always  a  ground  of  commimion  with 
God  in  one  of  these  kinds,  till  we  come  to  that  condition  wherein  all  wants 
shall  be  supplied,  where  indeed  is  only  matter  of  praise.  Yet  praising  God 
in  this  life  hath  this  prerogative,  that  here  we  praise  him  '  in  the  midst  of 
his  enemies,'  Ps.  ex.  2.  In  heaven  all  will  be  in  concert  with  us.  God 
esteems  it  an  honour  in  the  midst  of  devils,  and  wicked  men,  whose  hfe  is 
nothing  but  a  dishonom-  of  him,  to  have  those  that  will  make  his  name,  as 
it  is  in  itself,  so  gi'eat  in  the  world. 

David  comforts  himself  in  this,  that  he  should  praise  God,  which  shews 
he  had  inm^ed  himself  weU  before  to  this  holy  exercise,  in  which  he  found 
such  comfort,  that  he  could  not  but  joy  in  the  forethoughts  of  that  time, 
wherein  he  should  have  fresh  occasion  of  his  former  acquaintance  with  God. 
Thoughts  of  this  natm'e  enter  not  into  a  heart  that  is  strange  to  God. 

It  is  a  special  art,  in  time  of  misery  to  think  of  matter  of  joy,  if  not  for 
the  present,  yet  for  the  time  to  come ;  for  joy  disposeth  to  praise,  and 
praise  again  stirs  up  joy ;  these  mutually  breed  one  another,  even  as  the 
seed  brings  forth  the  tree,  and  the  tree  brings  forth  the  seed.  It  is  wisdom, 
therefore,  to  set  faith  on  work,  to  take  as  much  comfort  as  we  can  from 
future  promises,  that  we  may  have  comfort  and  strength  for  the  present, 
before  we  have  the  full  possession  of  them.  It  is  the  nature  of  faith  to 
antedate  blessings,  by  making  them  that  are  to  be  performed  hereafter,  as 
present  now,  because  we  have  them  in  the  promise.  If  God  had  not 
allowed  us  to  take  many  things  in  trust  for  the  time  to  come,  both  for  his 
glory  and  our  good,  he  would  never  have  left  such  rich  promises  to  us. 
For  faith  doth  not  only  give  glory  to  God,  for  the  present,  in  a  present  be- 
lieving of  his  truth,  and  reljdng  upon  him,  but  as  it  looks  forward,  it  sees 
an  everlasting  ground  of  praising  God,  and  is  stirred  up  to  praise  him  now, 
.  for  that  futm'e  matter  of  praise,  which  it  is  sm'e  to  have  hereafter.  The 
very  hopes  of  future  good  made  David  praise  God  for  the  present.  If  the 
happy  condition  we  look  for  were  present,  we  would  embrace  it  with  pre- 


250  THE  soul's  conflict. 

sent  praises.  Now,  'faith  is  the  evidence  of  things  not  seen,'  Heb.  xi.  1, 
and  gives  a  being  to  that  which  is  not ;  whereupon  a  true  believing  soul 
cannot  but  be  a  praising  soul.  For  this  end  God  reveals  beforehand  what 
we  shall  have,  that  beforehand  we  should  praise  him,  as  if  we  possessed  it. 
For  that  is  a  great  honour  to  his  truth,  when  we  esteem  of  what  he  speaks 
as  done,  and  what  he  promiseth  as  already  performed.  Had  we  not  a  per- 
petual confidence  in  the  perpetuity  of  his  love  to  us,  how  is  it  possible  we 
should  praise  him  ? 

Obj.  But  we  want  those  grounds  for  the  time  to  come  which  David  had ; 
he  had  particular  promises,  which  we  want. 

Am.  1.  Though  we  want  Urim  and  Thummim  and  the  prophets,  to  fore- 
tell us  what  the  times  to  come  shall  be,  yet  we  have  the  canon  of  Scripture 
enlarged  ;  we  live  under  a  more  glorious  manifestation  of  Christ,  and  under 
a  more  plentiful  shedding  of  the  Spirit,  whereby  that  want  is  abundantly 
supplied.  We  have  general  promises  for  the  time  to  come,  that  *  God  will 
never  fail  nor  forsake  us,'  Deut.  xxxi.  6  ;  '  that  he  will  be  with  us  in  fire 
and  in  water,  that  he  will  give  an  issue  to  the  temptation,  and  that  the 
issue  of  all  things  shall  be  for  our  good,  that  we  shall  reap  the  quiet  fruit 
of  righteousness,'  Heb.  xii.  11  ;  '  and  no  good  thing  will  he  withhold  from 
them  that  lead  a  godly  life,'  &c.,  Ps.  Ixxxiv.  11.  If  we  had  a  spirit  of 
faith  to  apply  these  generals,  we  should  see  much  of  God's  goodness  in 
particular. 

2,  Besides  general  promises,  we  have  some  particular  ones  for  the  time 
to  come  ;  of  the  confusion  of  antichrist,  of  the  conversion  of  the  Jews,  and 
fulness  of  the  Gentiles,  &c.,  which,  though  we  perhaps  shall  never  live  to 
see,  yet  we  are  members  of  that  body,  which  hereafter  shall  see  the  same; 
which  should  stir  up  our  hearts  to  praise  God,  as  if  we  did  enjoy  the  pre- 
sent fulfilling  of  them  ourselves,  for  faith  can  present  them  to  the  soul  as  if 
they  were  now  present. 

3.  Some  that  have  a  more  near  communion  with  God,  may  have  a 
particular  faith  of  some  particular  deliverances,  whereupon  they  may 
ground  particular  prayer.  Luther  praying  for  a  sick  friend  [Frederick 
Myco]  who  was  very  comfortable  and  useful  to  him,  had  a  particular  answer 
for  his  recovery,  whereupon  he  was  so  confident,  that  he  sent  word  to  his 
friend,  that  he  should  certainly  recover.  Latimer  prayed  with  great  zeal 
for  three  things.  1.  That  Queen  EHzabeth  might  come  to  the  crown.  2. 
That  he  might  seal  the  truth  with  his  heart's  blood.  3.  And  that  the 
gospel  might  be  restored  '  once  again,  once  again,'  which  he  expressed  with 
great  vehemency  of  spirit ;  all  which  three,  God  heard  him  in.  But  the 
privileges  of  a  few  must  not  be  made  a  general  rule  for  all.  Privileges  go 
not  out  of  the  persons,  but  rest  there.  Yet  if  men  would  maintain  a  nearer 
commimion  with  God,  there  is  no  doubt  but  he  would  reveal  himself  in  more 
familiar  manner  to  them,  in  many  particulars,  than  usually  he  doth.  Those 
particular  promises  in  the  91st  Psalm  and  other  places,  are  made  good  to 
such  as  have  a  particular  faith,  and  to  all  others,  with  those  limitations 
annexed  to  promises  of  that  nature,  so  far  forth  as  God  seeth  it  will  con- 
duce* to  their  good  and  his  own  glory,  and  so  far  forth  as  they  depend 
upon  him  in  the  use  of  means  ;  and  is  not  this  suflicient  to  stay  a  gracious 
heart  ? 

But  not  to  insist  upon  particular  promises  and  revelations,  the  perform- 
ance whereof  we  enjoy  here  in  this  present  life,  we  have  rich  and  precious 
promises  of  final  and  full  deUverance  from  all  evil,  and  perfect  enjoying  of 

*  '  Induce,  in  C. 


THE  soul's  conflict.  251 

all  good  in  that  life  which  is  to  come ;  yet  not  so  to  come,  but  that  we  have 
the  earnest  and  first  fruits  of  it  here ;  all  is  not  kept  for  heaven.  We  may 
say  with  David,  '  Oh  how  great  is  thy  goodness,  which  thou  hast  laid  up  for 
them  that  fear  thee,'  Ps.  rxxi.  19;  and  not  only  so,  but  how  great  is  that 
goodness  which  thou  hast  wrought  in  them  that  trust  in  thee,  even  before 
the  sons  of  men !  God  treasures  not  up  all  his  goodness  for  the  time  to 
come,  but  lays  much  of  it  out  daily  before  such  as  have  eyes  to  behold  it. 

Now  God's  main  end  in  revealing  such  glorious  promises  of  the  life  to 
come  is,  that  they  might  be  a  ground  of  comfort  to  us,  and  of  praise  to 
him  even  in  this  life  ;  and  indeed  what  can  be  grievous  in  this  world  to  him 
that  hath  heaven  in  his  eye  ?  What  made  our  blessed  Saviour  '  endure  the 
cross,  and  despise  the  shame,  but  the  joy  of  glory  to  come,  set  before  him?' 
Heb.  xii.  2. 

The  duty  that  David  brought  his  heart  to,  before  he  had  a  full  enjoyment 
of  what  he  looked  for,  was  patient  waiting,  it  being  God's  use  to  put  a  long 
date  oftentimes  to  the  performances  of  his  promises.  David  after  he  had  the 
promise  of  a  kingdom,  was  put  off  a  long  time  ere  he  was  invested  to  it ; 
Abraham  was  an  old  man  before  he  enjoyed  his  son  of  the  promise  ;  Joseph 
stayed  a  long  time  before  he  was  exalted ;  our  blessed  Saviour  himself  was 
thirty-four  years  old  before  he  was  exalted  up  into  glory. 

God  defers,  but  his  deferring  is  no  empty  space,  wherein  no  good  is 
done,  but  there  is  in  that  space  a  fitting  for  promises.  Whilst  the  seed 
lieth  hid  in  the  earth,  time  is  not  lost,  for  winter  fits  for  spring,  yea,  the 
harder  the  winter,  the  more  hopeful  the  spring ;  yet  were  it  a  mere  empty 
space,  we  should  hold  out,  because  of  the  great  things  to  come  ;  but  being 
only  a  preparing  time,  we  should  pass  it  with  the  less  discouragement.  Let 
this  support  us  in  all  the  thwartings  of  our  desire.  It  is  a  folly  to  think, 
that  we  should  have  physic  and  health  both  at  once.  We  must  endure  the 
working  of  God's  physic.  When  the  sick  humour  is  carried  away  and 
purged,  then  we  shall  enjoy  desired  health.  God  promiseth  forgiveness  of 
sin,  but  thou  findest  the  burden  of  it  daily  on  thee.  Cheer  up  thyself : 
when  the  morning  is  darkest,  then  comes  day  ;  after  a  weary  week  comes 
a  sabbath,  and  after  a  fight  victory  will  appear.  God's  time  is  best,  there- 
fore resolve  upon  waiting  his  leisure.  For  the  better  demeaning  of  our- 
selves herein,  we  must  know  we  must  so  wait,  that  we  provoke  not  in  the 
mean  time  his  patience  on  whom  we  depend,  by  putting  forth  our  hand  to 
any  evil,  which  indeed  is  a  crossing  of  our  hopes.  Therefore,  imiting  upon 
God  is  always  joined  with  doing  good.  There  is  an  influence  in  the  thing 
hoped  for,  in  the  spirit  of  him  that  truly  hopes,  stirring  him  up  to  a  suit- 
able conformity,  by  purging  himself  of  whatsoever  wiU  not  stand  with  the 
holiness  of  that  condition.  Waiting  implies  all  graces,  as  patience,  perse- 
verance, long-suffering  in  holding  out,  notwithstanding  the  tediousness  of 
time  deferred,  courage,  and  breaking  through  all  difficulties  that  stand 
between.  For  what  is  waiting,  indeed,  but  a  continuing  in  a  gracious 
inoffensive  course,  till  the  accomphshment  of  our  desii'es  ? 

Whence  we  may  discern  a  main  difference  betwixt  a  Christian  and  a 
carnal  man,  who  is  short-spirited,  and  all  for  the  present.  He  wiU  have 
his  good  here,  whereas  a  saint  of  God  continues  still  waiting,  though  all 
things  seem  contrary  to  what  he  expects.  The  presence  of  things  to  come 
is  such  to  faith,  as  it  makes  it  *  despise  the  pleasure  of  sin  for  a  season,' 
Heb.  xi.  25.  What  evidence  of  goodness  is  it  for  a  man  to  be  good  only 
upon  the  apprehension  of  something  that  contents  him  ?  Here  is  the  glory 
of  faith,  that  it  can  upon  God's  bare  promise,  cross  itself  in  things  pleasing 


252  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

to  nature,  and  raise  up  the  soul  to  a  disposition  some  ways  answerable  to 
that  blessed  estate  which,  though  yet  it  enjoys  not,  yet  it  is  undoubtedly 
persuaded  of,  and  looks  for.  What  can  encourage  us  more  to  wait  than 
this,  that  the  good  we  wait  for  is  greater  than  we  are  able  to  conceive,  yea, 
gi-eater  than  we  can  desire  or  hope  for  ? 

This  was  no  presumptuous  resolution  of  David's  own  strength,  but  it 
issued  from  his  present  truth  of  heart,  so  far  as  he  knew  the  same  ;  to- 
gether with  an  humble  dependence  upon  God,  both  for  deliverance,  and  a 
heart  to  praise  him  for  it ;  because  God's  benefits  are  usually  entire,  and 
are  sweetened  with  such  a  sense  of  his  love,  as  causeth  a  thankful  heart, 
which  to  a  true  Christian,  is  a  greater  blessing  than  the  dehverance  itself, 
as  making  the  soul  better.  David  doth  acknowledge  with  humble  admira- 
tion, that  a  heart  enlarged  comes  from  God,  '  Who  am  I,'  saith  he,  '  and 
who  are  my  people  ? '  1  Chron.  xxix.  14. 

He  mentioneth  here  praising  God,  instead  of  deliverance,  because  a 
heart  enlarged  to  praise  God  is  indeed  the  greatest  part  of  the  deliverance ; 
for  by  it  the  soul  is  delivered  out  of  its  own  straits  and  discontent. 


Chapter  XXVIII. — Divers  qualities  of  the  praise  due  to  God,  with  helps    ! 
therein ;  and  notes  of  God's  hearing  our  prayers. 

Though  this  be  God's  due  and  our  duty,  and  itself  a  delightful  thing,  yet 
it  is  not  so  easy  a  matter  to  praise  God,  as  many  imagine.  Music  is  sweet, 
but  the  setting  of  the  strings  in  tune  is  unpleasing.  Our  souls  will  not  be 
long  in  tune,  and  it  is  harsh  to  us  to  go  about  the  setting  them  in  order. 
Like  curious  clocks,  a  httle  thing  will  hinder  the  motion ;  especially  pas- 
sion, which  disturbs  not  only  the  frame  of  grace  in  us,  but  the  very  frame 
of  nature,  putting  man  out  of  the  power  and  possession  of  himself  ;  and 
therefore  David  here,  when  he  had  thoughts  of  praising  God,  was  fain  to 
take  up  the  quarrel  betwixt  him  and  his  soul  fii'st.  Praising  sets  all  the 
parts  and  graces  of  the  soul  awork  ;  and  therefore  the  soul  had  need  gather 
itself  and  its  strength  together  to  this  duty. 

It  requires  especially  self-denial,  from  a  conscience*  of  our  own  wants, 
weaknesses,  and  unworthiness ;  it  requires  a  giving  up  of  ourselves,  and 
all  ours  to  be  at  God's  dispose. f  .  The  very  ground  and  the  fruit  which  it 
yields  are  both  God's  ;  and  they  never  gave  themselves  truly  up  to  God, 
that  are  not  ready  to  give  all  they  have  to  him  whensoever  he  calls  for  it. 
Thankfulness  is  a  sacrifice,  and  in  sacrifices  there  must  be  killing  before 
offering,  otherwise  the  sacrifice  will  be  as  the  offering  up  some  unclean 
creatm'e.  Thanksgiving  is  an  incense,  and  there  must  be  fire  to  bum  that 
incense.  Thanksgiving  requires  not  only  afiections,  but  the  heat  of  affec- 
tions. There  must  be  some  assurance  of  the  benefit  we  praise  God  for;  and 
it  is  no  easy  matter  to  maintain  assm'ance  of  our  interest  in  the  best  things. 

Yet  in  this  case,  if  we  feel  not  sense  of  assurance,  it  is  good  we  should 
praise  God  for  what  we  have.  We  cannot  deny  but  God  offers  himself  in 
mercy  to  us,  and  that  he  intends  our  good  thereby,  for  so  we  ought  to 
construe  his  merciful  dealing  towards  us,  and  not  have  him  in  jealousy 
without  ground.  If  we  bring  our  hearts  to  be  willing  to  praise  God,  for 
that  we  cannot  but  acknowledge  comes  from  him,  he  will  be  ready  in  his 
time  to  shew  himself  more  clearly  to  us.  We  taste  of  his  goodness  many 
ways,  Eom.  ii.  4,  and  it  is  accompanied  with  much  patience ;  and  these  in 
*  That  Is,  '  consciousness.' — Ed.  -f  That  is,  '  disposal.' — G. 


THE  soul's  conflict.  253 

their  natures  lead  us  not  only  to  repentance,  but  likewise  to  thankful  ac- 
knowledgment ;  and  we  ought  to  follow  that  which  God  leads  us  unto, 
though  he  hath  not  yet  acquainted  us  with  his  secrets. 

It  is  good  in  this  case  to  help  the  soul  with  a  firm  resolution,  and  to 
back  resolution  with  a  vow,  not  only  in  general  that  we  will  praise,  but 
particularly  of  something  within  our  own  power,  provided  it  prove  no  snare 
to  us.  For  by  this  means  the  heart  is  perfectly  gained,  and  the  thing  is 
as  good  as  done  in  regard  of  God's  acceptance  and  our  comfort ;  because 
strong  resolutions  discover  sincerity  without  any  hypocritical  reservation 
and  hollowness.  Always  so  much  sincerity  as  a  man  hath,  so  much  will 
his  inward  peace  be.  Resolution  as  a  strong  stream  bears  down  all  before  it. 
Little  good  is  done  in  rehgion  without  this,  and  with  it,  all  is  as  good  as 
done. 

So  soon  as  we  set  upon  this  work  we  shall  feel  our  spirits  to  rise  higher 
and  higher,  as  the  waters  in  the  sanctuary,  Ezek.  xlvii.,  as  the  soul  grows 
more  and  more  heated.  See  how  David  riseth  by  degrees.  Be  glad  in  the 
Lord,  Ps.  xxxii.  11,  and  then,  rejoice,  ye  righteous,  and  then,  shout  for  joy 
all  ye  that  are  upright  in  heart.  The  Spirit  of  God  wiU  delight  to  carry  us 
along  in  this  duty,  until  it  leaves  our  spirits  in  heaven,  praising  God  with 
the  saints  and  glorious  angels  there.  To  him  that  hath  and  useth  it  shall 
be  given.  Mat.  xxv.  29.  He  that  knoweth  God  aright  will  honour  him  by 
trusting  of  him  ;  he  that  honours  him  by  trusting  him,  wiU  honour  him  by 
praying  ;  and  he  that  honours  him  by  prayer,  shall  honour  him  by  praises  ; 
he  that  honom-s  him  by  praises  here,  shall  perfect  his  praises  in  heaven ; 
and  this  will  quit  the  labour  of  setting  and  keeping  the  soul  in  tune.  This 
trading  with  God  is  the  richest  trade  in  the  world.  When  we  return  praises 
to  him,  he  returns  new  favours  to  us,  and  so  an  everlasting,  ever  increasing 
intercourse  betwixt  God  and  the  soul  is  maintained.  David  here  resolved 
to  praise  God,  because  he  had  assurance  of  such  a  deHverance  as  would 
yield  him  a  ground  of  praising  him. 

Praising  of  God  may  well  be  called  incense,  because,  as  it  is  sweet  in 
itself,  and  sweet  to  God,  so  it  sweetens  aU  that  comes  from  us.  Love  and 
joy  are  sweet  in  themselves,  though  those  whom  we  love  and  joy  in  should 
not  know  of  ooi-  affection,  nor  return  the  like ;  but  we  cannot  love  and  joy 
in  God  but  he  wiU  delight  in  us.  When  we  neglect  the  praising  of  God, 
we  lose  both  the  comfort  of  God's  love  and  our  own  too.  It  is  a  spiritual 
judgment  to  want  or  lose  the  sight  or  sense  of  God's  favours,  for  it  is  a  sign 
of  want  of  spiritual  life,  or  at  least  liveliness ;  it  shews  we  are  not  yet  in 
the  state  of  those  whom  God  hath  chosen  to  set  forth  the  riches  of  his  glory 
upon. 

When  we  consider  that,  if  we  answer  not  kindness  and  favour  shewed 
unto  us  by  men,  we  are  esteemed  unworthy  of  respect,  as  having  sinned 
against  the  bond  of  human  society  and  love,  we  cannot  but  much  more  take 
shame  to  ourselves,  when  we  consider  the  disproportion  of  our  carriage,  and 
unkind  behaviour  towards  God,  when,  instead  of  being  temples  of  his  praise, 
we  become  graves  of  his  benefits.  What  a  vanity  is  this  in  our  nature,  to 
stand  upon  exactness  of  justice,  in  answering  petty  courtesies  of  men,  and 
yet  to  pass  by  the  substantial  favours  of  God,  without  scarce  taking  notice 
of  them  !  The  best  breeding  is  to  acknowledge  greatest  respects  where  they 
are  most  due,  and  to  think,  that  if  unkindness  and  rudeness  be  a  sin  in 
civility,  it  is  much  more  in  rehgion.  The  greatest  danger  of  unthankful- 
ness  is  in  the  greatest  matter  of  all.  If  we  arrogate  any  spiritual  strength 
to  oui'selves  in  spiritual  actions,  we  commit  either  sacrilege,  La  robbing  God 


254  THE  SOTJIi  S  CONPIilCT. 

of  his  due,  or  mockery,  by  praising  him  for  that  which  we  hold  to  be  of 
ourselves.  If  injustice  be  to  be  condemned  in  man,  much  more  in  denying 
God  his  due,  religion  being  the  first  due.  It  takes  much  from  thankful- 
ness, when  we  have  common  conceits  of  pecuUar  favours.  Praise  is  not 
comely  in  the  mouth  of  fools  ;  God  loves  no  *  blind  sacrifice,'  Mai.  i.  8. 

We  should,  therefore,  have  wisdom  and  judgment,  not  only  to  know  upon 
what  grounds  to  be  thankful,  but  in  what  order,  by  discerning  what  be  the 
best  and  first  favours  whence  the  rest  proceed,  and  which  add  a  worthiness 
to  all  the  rest.  It  is  good  to  see  blessmgs,  as  they  issue  from  grace  and 
mercy.  It  much  commends  any  blessing,  to  see  the  love  and  favour  of 
God  in  it,  which  is  more  to  be  valued  than  the  blessing  itself,  as  it 
much  commends  anything  that  comes  from  us,  when  we  put  a  respect 
of  thankfulness,  and  love  to  God  upon  it ;  and  if  we  observe,  we  shall  find 
the  unkindness  of  others  to  us,  is  but  a  correction  of  our  unkindness  to 
God. 

In  praising  God  it  is  not  good  to  delay,  but  take  advantage  of  the 
freshness  of  the  blessing.  What  we  add  to  delay,  we  take  from  thankful- 
ness ;  and  withal  lose  the  prime  and  first-fruits  of  our  afiections.  It  is  a 
wise  redeeming  of  time  to  observe  the  best  seasons  of  thankfulness.  A 
cheerful  heart  will  best  close  with  a  cheerful  duty,  and  therefore  it  is  not 
good  to  waste  so  fit  a  temper  in  frivolous  things  ;  but  after  some  content- 
ment given  to  nature,  let  God  have  the  fruit  of  his  own  planting,  otherwise 
it  is  even  no  better  than  the  refreshing  of  him  that  standeth  by  a  good  fire 
and  crieth,  '  Ah,  ah,  I  am  warm,'  Isa.  xliv.  16. 

David  doth  not  say,  *  I  will  thank  God,'  but  '  I  shall  praise  him,'  though 
he  intends  that.  Thanks  is  then  best  when  it  tends  to  praising,  and  there 
ends ;  for  thanks  alone  shew  respect  to  our  own  good  only,  praises  to  God's 
glory ;  and  in  particular  to  the  glory  of  such  excellencies  whence  the  bene- 
fit comes  ;  and  from  thence  the  soul  is  enlarged  to  think  highly  of  all  God's 
excellencies. 

Hannah,  upon  particular  thanks  for  her  hearing  about  a  child,  1  Sam. 
ii.  1,  takes  occasion  to  set  out  God's  other  excellencies,  and  riseth  higher 
and  higher,  from  one  to  many,  from  the  present  time  to  that  which  was  to 
come ;  from  particular  favours  to  herself,  she  stirs  up  others  to  praise  God 
for  his  mercy  to  them.  So  David :  '  Deliver  me,  0  God,  and  my  tongue 
shall  smg  of  thy  praises,'  Ps.  li.  14.  He  propounds  this  as  an  engagement 
of  the  Lord  to  help  him,  because  it  should  tend  to  the  enlargement  of  his 
glory ;  he  was  resolved  to  improve  God's  favom-  this  way. 

The  Spirit  of  God  works  like  new  wine,  enlarging  the  spirit  from  one 
degree  of  praising  God  to  another ;  and  because  it  foresees  the  eternity  of 
God's  love,  as  far  as  it  can,  it  endeavours  an  eternity  of  God's  praise.  A 
gracious  heart  upon  taste  of  favour  shewed  to  itself,  is  presently  warmed 
to  spread  the  praise  of  God  to  others ;  and  the  more  it  sees  the  fruit  of 
trusting  God,  and  his  truth  in  performing  promise,  the  more  it  still  honours 
that  trusting,  as  knowing  that  it  lies  upon  God's  honour  to  honour  those 
that  honour  him,  1  Sam.  ii.  Blessing  will  procure  blessing.  The  soul 
hath  never  'such  freedom  from  sin  as  when  it  is  in  a  thankftil  frame ;  for 
thankfulness  issues  from  a  heart  truly  humbled  and  emptied  of  itself,  truly 
loving  and  rejoicing  in  God ;  and  upon  any  sm  the  spirit  is  grieved  and 
straitened,  and  the  lips  sealed  up  in  such  a  heart ;  for  the  conscience  upon 
any  sin  looks  upon  it  not  only  as  disobedience  against  God's  will  and 
authority,  but  as  unthankfulness  to  his  goodness ;  and  this  melteth  a  godly 
heart  most  of  all.     When  Nathan  told  David  God  had  done  this  and  this 


THE  soul's  conflict.  '25S 

for  him,  and  was  ready  to  do  more,  he  could  not  hold  in  the  confession  of 
his  sin,  but  relented  and  gave  in  presently,  2  Sam.  xii.  8. 

We  ought  not  only  to  give  thanks,  but  to  be  thankful,  to  meditate  and 
study  the  praises  of  God.  Our  whole  life  should  be  nothing  else  but  a 
continual  blessing  of  his  holy  name,  endeavouring  to  bring  in  all  we  have, 
and  to  lay  it  out  for  God  and  his  people,  to  see  where  he  hath  any  receivers. 
Our  goodness  is  nothing  to  God.  We  need  bring  no  water  to  the  fountain 
nor  light  to  the  sun.  Thankfulness  is  full  of  invention,  it  deviseth  liberal 
things.  Though  it  be  our  duty  to  be  good  stewards  of  our  talents,  yet 
thankfulness  adds  a  lustre,  and  a  more  gracious  acceptance,  as  having  more 
of  that  which  God  calls  for. 

Our  praising  God  should  not  be  as  sparks  out  of  a  flint,  but  as  water  out 
of  a  spring,  natm-al,  ready,  free,  as  God's  love  to  us  is.  Mercy  pleases 
him,  so  should  praise  please  us.  It  is  our  happiness  when  the  best  part  in 
us  is  exercised  about  the  best  and  highest  work.  It  was  a  good  speech  of 
him  that  said.  If  God  had  made  me  a  nightingale,  I  would  have  sung  as  a 
nightingale,  but  now  God  hath  made  me  a  man,  I  will  sing  forth  the  praises 
of  God,  which  is  the  work  of  a  saint  only.  '  All  thy  works  bless  thee,  and 
thy  saints  praise  thee,'  Ps.  cxlv.  10.  All  things  are  either  blessings  in  their 
nature,  or  so  blessed,  as  they  are  made  blessings  to  us  by  the  overruling 
command  of  him,  who  maketh  all  things  serviceable  to  his.  Even  the 
worst  things  in  this  sense  are  made  spiritual  to  God's  people  against  their 
own  nature.  How  gi'eat  is  that  goodness  which  makes  even  the  worst 
things  good  ! 

Little  favours  come  from  no  small  love,  but  even  from  the  same  love  that 
Gdd  intends  the  greatest  things  to  us ;  and  are  pledges  of  it.  The  godly  are 
more  thankful  for  the  least  favours  than  worldly  men  for  the  greatest.  The 
if^tion  of  the  giver  enhances  the  gift. 

0  then  let  us  labour  to  improve  both  what  we  have,  and  what  we  are,  to 
his  glory.  It  discovers  that  we  love  God,  not  only  with  all  our  understand- 
ing, heart,  and  affection,  but,  when  with  all  our  might  and  power,  so  far  as  ■ 
we  have  advantage  by  any  part,  relation,  or  calUng  whatsoever,  we  endea- 
vour to  do  him  service.  We  cannot  have  a  greater  honour  in  the  world, 
than  to  be  honoured  of  God,  to  be  abundant  in  this  kind. 

Om'  time  here  is  short,  and  we  shall  all  ere  long  be  called  to  a  reckoning ; 
therefore  let  us  study  real  praises.  God's  blessing  of  us  is  in  deed,  and  so 
should  ours  be  of  him.  Thanks  in  words  is  good,  but  in  deeds  is  better ; 
leaves  are  good,  but  fruit  is  better ;  and  of  fruit,  that  which  costs  us  most. 
True  praise  requires  our  whole  man,  the  judgment  to  esteem,  the  memory 
to  treasure  up,  the  will  to  resolve,  the  affections  to  delight,  the  tongue  to 
speak  of,  and  the  life  to  express  the  rich  favours  of  God.  What  can  we 
think  of !  what  can  we  call  to  mind !  What  can  we  resolve  upon  !  what 
can  we  speak  !  What  can  we  express  in  our  whole  course  better  than  the 
praises  of  him,  '  of  whom,  and  through  whom,  and  to  whom  we  and  all 
things  are  !'  Rom.  xi.  36. 

Our  whole  Hfe  should  speak  nothing  but  thankfulness ;  every  condition 
and  place  we  are  in  should  be  a  witness  of  our  thankfulness.  This  will 
make  the  times  and  places  we  live  in  the  better  for  us.  When  we  our- 
selves are  monuments  of  God's  mercy,  it  is  fit  we  should  be  patterns  of  his 
praises,  and  leave  monuments  to  others.  We  should  think  life  is  given  us, 
to  do  something  better  than  live  in.  We  live  not  to  live.  Our  life  is  not 
the  end  of  itself,  but  the  praise  of  the  giver.  God  hath  joined  his  glory 
and  our  happiness  together.     It  is  fit  that  we  should  refer  all  that  is  good 


/^ 


256  THE  SOtTL  S  CONFLICT. 

to  his  glory,  that  hath  joined  his  glory  to  our  best  good,  in  being  glorified 
in  our  salvation. 

David  concludes,  that  he  should  certainly  praise  God,  because  he  had 
prayed  unto  him.  Prayers  be  the  seeds  of  praises.  I  have  sown,  there- 
fore I  will  reap.  What  we  receive  as  a  fruit  of  our  prayers,  is  more  sweet 
than  what  we  have  by  a  general  providence. 

Ohj.  But  how  do  we  know  that  God  hears  our  prayers  ? 

Ans.  1.  If  we  regard  them  ourselves,  and  expect  an  issue.  Prayer  is  a 
Bure  adventufeT     We  may  well  look  for  a  return.  "" 

2.  It  is  a  sign  that  God  hath  heard  our  prayers,  when  he  stirs  up  thank- 
fulness  aforehand  uponassurance.  Thankfulness  cannot  be  without  either 
the  grace  of  God,  by  winch  we  are  thankful,  or  some  taste  of  the  things  we 
are  thankful  for.  God  often  accepts  the  prayer,  when  he  doth  not  grant 
the  thing,  and  will  give  us  thereby  occasion  of  thanksgiving  for  his  wise  care 
in  changing  one  blessing  for  another  fitter  for  us.  God  regards  my  prayers, 
when  by  prayer  my  heart  is  wrought  to  that  frame  which  he  requires,  that 
is,  an  humble  subjection  to  him,  from  an  acknowledgment  of  my  wants,  and 
his  fulness.  There  is  nothing  stirred  up  in  our  hearts  by  the  Spirit,  no,  not 
so  much  as  a  gracious  desire,  but  God  wiU  answer  it,  if  we  have  a  spirit 
to  wait. 

3.  We  may  know  God  hath  accepted  our  prayer,  when  he  makes  the  way 
easy  and  plain  after  prayer, "by  a  gracious  providence  ;  when  the  course  of 
things  begin  to  change,  and  we  meet  with  comforts  instead  of  former  crosses, 
and  find  our  hearts  quieted  and  encouraged  against  what  we  most  feared. 

4.  Likewise  earnestness  in  prayer  is  a  sign  God  hears  our  prayers,  as 
fire  kindled  from  heaven  sheweth  God  accepts  the  sacrifice,  'i'he  ground  of 
prevailing  by  our  prayer,  is,  that  they  are  put  up  in  a  gi-acious  name,  and 
for  persons  in  favour,  and  dictated  by  God's  own  Spirit.  They  work  in  the 
strength  of  the  blessed  Trinity,  not  their  own,  giving  God  the  glory  of  all 
his  excellencies. 

It  is  God's  direction  '  to  call  upon  him  in  trouble,'  Ps.  1.  15,  and  it  is  his 
promise  to  deliver  ;  and  then  both  his  direction  and  promise  that  we  shall 
glorify  him.  When  troubles  stir  up  prayer,  God's  answer  to  them  will  stir 
up  praises.  David  when  he  saith,  I  shall  praise  God,  presupposes  God 
would  deliver  him,  that  he  might  have  ground  of  praising  his  name.  And 
he  knew  God  would  deliver  him,  because  as  from  faith  he  had  prayed  for 
deliverance,  so  he  knew  it  was  the  order  of  God's  dealing,  to  revive  after 
drooping,  and  refresh  after  fainting.  God  knows  otherwise  that  our  spirits 
would  fail  before  him. 

A  thankful  disposition  is  a  special  help  in  an  afflicted  condition,  for 
thankfulness  springs  from  love,  and  '  love  rejoiceth  in  sufi'ering,'  Acts  xv. 
21.  Thankfulness  raises  the  soul  higher  than  itself.  It  is  trading  with 
God,  whereby,  as  we  by  him,  so  he  gains  by  us.  Therefore  the  saints  used 
this  as  a  motive  to  God,  that  he  would  grant  their  desires,  because  the 
living  praise  him,  and  not  the  dead,  Isa.  xxxviii.  19.  If  God  expect  praise 
from  us,  sure  he  wiU  put  us  into  a  condition  of  praise. 

Unthankfulness  is^a  sin  detestable  both  to  God  and  men,  and  the  less 
ti.unishment  it  receives  from  human  laws,  the  more  it  is  punished  inwardly 
by  secret  shame,  and  outwardly  by  public  hatred,  if  once  it  prove  notorious. 
WfiTen  God's  arrests  come  forth  tor  denying  him  his  tribute,  he  chiefly  eyes 
to  unthankful  heart,  and  hates  all  sin  the  worse,  as  there  is  more  unthank- 
fulness m  it.  The  neglect  of  kindness  is  taken  most  unkindly.  Why 
should  we  load  God  with  injuries,  that  loadeth  us  with  his  blessings  ?  Who 


THE  soul's  conflict.  267 

would  requite  good  with  evil  ?  Such  men's  mercies  will  prove  at  last  so 
many  indictments  against  them. 

Use.  I  beseech  you  therefore  labour  to  be  men  of  j)raiaea.  If  in  any 
duty  we  may  expect  assistance,  we  may  in  this,  that  altogether  concerns 
God's  glory.  The  more  we  praise  God,  the  more  we  shall  praise  him. 
When  God  by  grace  enlarges  the  will,  he  intends  to  give  the  deed.  God's 
children,  wherein  their  wills  are  conformable  to  God's  will,  are  sure  to  have 
them  fulfilled.  In  a  fruitful  ground,  a  man  will  sow  his  best  seed.  God 
intends  his  own  glory  in  every  mercy,  and  he  that  '  praises  him,  glorifies 
him,'  Ps.  1.  23.  When  our  wills  therefore  carry  us  to  that  which  God  wiUs 
above  all,  we  may  well  expect  he  will  satisfy  our  desiies.  The  living  God  is  a 
living  fountain,  nc/er  drav/ndiy.  Ho  hath  never  done  ao  much  for  us,  but 
he  can  and  will  do  more.  If  there  be  no  end  of  our  praises,  there  shall  be 
no  end  of  his  goodness ;  no  way  of  thriving  like  to  this.  By  this  means 
we  are  sure  never  to  be  very  miserable.  How  can  he  be  dejected,  that  by 
a  sweet  communion  with  God  sets  himself  in  heaven  ?  nay,  maketh  his 
heart  a  kind  of  heaven,  '  a  temple,  a  holy  of  holies,'  2  Cor.  vi.  16,  wherein 
incense  is  offered  unto  God.  It  is  the  sweetest  branch  of  our  priestly  office, 
to  ofier  up  these  daily  sacrifices.  It  is  not  only  the  beginning,  but  a  further 
entrance  of  our  heaven  upon  earth,  and  shall  be  one  day  our  whole  em- 
ployment for  ever. 

Praise  is  a  just  and  due  tribute  for  all  God's  blessings  ;  for  what  else 
especially  do  the  best  favours  of  God  call  for  at  our  hands  ?  How  do  aU 
creatures  praise  God,  but  by  our  mouths  ?  It  is  a  debt  always  owing,  and 
always  paying ;  and  the  more  we  pay,  the  more  we  shall  owe.  Upon  the 
due  discharge  of  this  debt,  the  soul  will  find  much  peace.  A  thankful  heart 
to  God  for  his  blessings,  is  the  greatest  blessing  of  all.  Were  it  not  for  a 
few  gracious  souls,  what  honour  should  God  have  of  the  rest  of  the  un- 
thankful world  ?  Which  should  stir  us  up  the  more  to  be  trumpets  of  God's 
praises  in  the  midst  of  his  enemies,  because  this,  in  some  sort,  hath  a  pre- 
rogative above  our  praising  God  in  heaven ;  for  there  God  hath  no  enemies 
to  dishonour  him. 

This  is  a  duty  that  none  can  except  against,  because  it  is  especially  a 
work  of  the  heart.  All  cannot  shew  their  thankfulness  in  giving,  or  doing, 
great  matters,  but  all  may  express  the  willingness  of  their  hearts.  All 
within  us  may  praise  his  holy  name,  Ps.  ciii.  1,  though  we  have  little  or 
nothing  without  us  ;  and  that  vrithin  us  is  the  thing  God  chiefly  requires. 
Our  heart  is  the  altar  on  which  we  ofier  this  incense.  God  looks  not  to 
quantity,  but  to  proportion.  He  accepts  a  mite  where  there  is  no  more  to 
be  had. 

Quest.  But  how  shall  we  be  enabled  to  this  great  duty  ? 

Ans.  1.  Filter  into  a  deep  comideration  of  God's  favours,  past,  present,  and 
to  come ;  think  of  the  greatness  and  suitableness  of  them  to  our  condition, 
the  seasonableness  and  necessity  of  them  every  way  unto  us.  Consider  how 
miserable  our  life  were  without  them,  even  without  common  favours  ;  but 
as  for  spiritual  favom's,  that  make  both  our  natm-al  and  civil  condition  com- 
fortable, our  very  life  were  death,  our  light  were  darkness  without  these.  In 
all  favours  think  not  of  them  so  much,  as  God's  mercy  and  love  in  Christ, 
which  sweetens  them.  Think  of  the  freeness  of  this  love,  and  the  smallness 
of  thy  own  deserts.  How  many  blessings  doth  God  bestow  upon  us,  above 
our  deserts,  yea,  above  our  desires,  nay,  above  our  very  thoughts !  He  had 
thoughts  of  love  to  us  when  we  had  no  thoughts  ourselves.  What  had  we 
been  if  God  had  not  been  good  unto  us  !     How  many  blessings  hath  God 

TOL.  I.  B 


258  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

bestowed  upon  us,  that  we  never  prayed  for  !  and  yet  we  are  not  so  ready 
to  praise  God,  as  to  pray  unto  him.     This  more  desire  of  what  we  want 
■  than  esteeming  of  what  we  have,  shews  too  much  prevailing  of  self-love. 
But, 

2.  Secondly,  comparing  also  ourselves  with  others,  will  add  a  great  lustre 
to  God's  favour,  considering  we  are  aU  hewed  out  of  one  rock,  and  differ 
nothing  from  the  meanest,  but  in  God's  free  love.  Who  are  we,  that  God 
should  single  us  out  for  the  glory  of  his  rich  mercy  ? 

3.  Considering,  likewise,  that  the  blessings  of  God  to  tis  are  such  as  if 
none  but  we  had  them,  and  God  cares  for  us  as  if  he  had  none  else  to  care  for 
in  the  ivorld  besides.  These  things  well  pondered  should  set  the  greater 
price  upon  God's  blessings.  What  are  we  in  nature  and  grace  but  God's 
blessings  ? — ^what  is  in  us,  about  us,  above  us  ?  What  see  we,  taste  we, 
enjoy  we,  but  blessings  ?  All  we  have,  or  hope  to  have,  are  but  dead 
favours  to  us,  unless  we  put  life  into  them  by  a  spirit  of  thankfulness. 
And  shall  we  be  as  dead  as  the  earth,  as  the  stones  we  tread  on  ?  ShaU 
we  live  as  if  we  were  resolved  God  should  have  no  praise  by  us  ?  ShaU 
we  make  ourselves  gods,  ascribing  all  to  ourselves  ?  Nay,  shall  we,  as 
many  do,  fight  against  God  with  his  own  favours,  and  turn  God's  bless- 
ings against  himself?  Shall  we  abuse  peace  to  security  ?  plenty  to  ease, 
promises  to  presumption,  gifts  to  pride  ?  How  can  we  please  the  devil 
better  than  thus  doing  ?  Oh,  the  wonderful  patience  of  God,  to  continue 
life  to  those  whose  Hfe  is  nothing  else  but  a  warring  against  him,  the  giver 
of  life ! 

As  God  hath  thoughts  of  love  to  us,  so  should  our  thoughts  be  of  praises 
to  him,  and  of  doing  good  in  our  places  to  others  for  his  sake.  Think  with 
thyself.  Is  there  any  I  may  honour  God  by  reUeving,  comforting,  counsel- 
ling? Is  there  any  of  Jonathan's  race?  2  Sam.  ix.  1.  Is  there  any  of 
Christ's  dear  ones  ?  I  will  do  good  to  them,  that  they  together  with  me, 
and  for  me,  may  praise  God,  Psalm  cxviii.  1.  As  David  here  checks  him- 
self for  the  faihng  and  disquietness  of  his  spirit,  and,  as  a  cure  thereof, 
thinks  of  praising  God,  so  let  us,  in  the  like  case,  stir  up  our  souls  as  he 
did,  and  say,  '  Praise  the  Lord,  0  my  soul,  and  all  that  is  within  me,  set 
forth  his  holy  name,'  Psalm  ciii.  1.  We  never  use  our  spirits  to  better 
purpose,  than  when  by  that  light  we  have  from  God,  we  stir  them  up  to 
look  back  again  to  him. 

By  this  it  will  appear  to  what  good  purposes  we  had  a  being  here  in  the 
world,  and  were  brought  into  communion  with  Christ  by  the  gospel.  The 
carriage  of  all  things  to  the  right  end  shews  whose  we  are,  and  whither  we 
tend.  It  abundantly  appears  by  God's  revealing  of  himself  many  ways  to 
us,  as  by  promises,  sacraments,  sabbaths,  &c.,  that  he  intended  to  raise 
up  our  hearts  to  this  heavenly  duty.  The  whole  gracious  dispensation  of 
God  in  Christ  tends  to  this,  that  our  carriage  should  be  nothmg  else  but 
an  expression  of  thankfulness  to  him ;  that  by  a  free,  cheerful,  and  gra- 
cious disposition,  we  might  shew  we  are  the  people  of  God's  free  grace,  set 
at  hberty  from  the  spirit  of  bondage,  to  serve  him  without  fear,  Luke  i.  74, 
with  a  voluntary,  child-like  service,  all  the  days  of  our  lives. 

Chapter  XXIX. — Of  God's  manifold  salvation  for  his  people,  and  why 
open,  or  expressed  in  the  countenance. 

I  proceed. 

He  is  the  salvation  of  my  countenance. 


THE  soul's  conflict.  259 

As  David  strengthens  his  trust  in  God,  by  reason  fetched  from  the 
fature  goodness  of  God,  apprehended  by  faith,  so  he  strengthens   that 
reason  with  another  reason  fetched  from  God,  whom  he  apprehends  here  , 
as  the  salvation  of  his  countenance.     We  need  reason  against  reason,  and  . 
reason  upon  reason,  to  steel  and  strengthen  the  soul  against  the  onset  of 
contrary  reasons. 

He  is  the  salvation  of  my  countenance ;  that  is,  he  will  so  save  as  I  , 
shall  see,  and  my  enemies  shall  see  it ;   and  upon  seeing,  my  countenance  , 
shall  be  cheered  and  lifted  up ;  God's  saving  kindness  shall  be  read  in  my 
countenance,  so  that  all  who  look  on  me  shall  say,  God  hath  spoken  peace 
to  my  soul,  as  well  as  broiiglit  poace  to  my  condition. 

lie  saith  not  salvation,  but  salvations  (j) ;  because  as  our  life  is  subject  to 
many  miseries,  in  soul,  body,  and  state,  public  and  private,  &c.,  so  God 
hath  many  salvations.  If  we  have  a  thousand  troubles,  he  hath  a  thousand 
ways  of  help,  Mille  mali  species,  mille  salutis  erunt.  As  he  hath  more  bless- 
ings than  one,  so  he  hath  more  salvations  than  one.  He  saves  our  souls 
from  sin,  our  bodies  from  danger,  and  om*  estates  from  trouble.  He  is 
the  Redeemer  of  his  people ;  and  not  only  so,  but  '  with  him  is  plenteous 
redemption,'  Ps.  cxxx,  7,  of  all  persons,  of  all  parts  both  of  body  and  soul, 
from  all  ill,  both  of  sin  and  misery,  for  all  times,  both  now  and  hereafter. 
He  is  an  everlasting  salvation. 

David  doth  not  say,  God  will  save  me  ;  but  God  is  salvation  itself,  and 
nothing  but  salvation.  Our  sins  only  stop  the  current  of  his  mercy,  but  it 
being  above  all  our  sins,  wiU  soon  scatter  that  cloud,  remove  that  stop,  and 
then  we  shall  see  and  feel  nothing  but  salvation  from  the  Lord.  '  AU  his 
ways  are  mercy  and  peace,'  Ps.  xxv.  10,  to  a  repentant  soul  that  casts  itself 
upon  him. 

Christ  himself  is  nothing  else  but  salvation  clothed  in  our  flesh.  So  old 
Simeon  conceived  of  him,  when  he  had  him  in  his  arms,  Luke  ii.  29,  and 
was  willing  thereupon  to  yield  up  his  spirit  to  God,  having  seen  Christ,  the 
salvation  of  God.  When  we  embrace  Christ  in  the  arms  of  our  faith,  we 
embrace  nothing  but  salvation.  He  makes  up  that  sweet  name  given  him  . 
by  his  Father,  and  brought  from  heaven  by  an  angel  to  the  ftdl,  Luke  . 
ii.  14;  a  name  in  the  faith  of  which  it  is  impossible  for  any  believing  soul 
to  sink. 

The  devil,  in  trouble,  presents  God  to  us  as  a  revenging  destroyer,  and 
unbelief  presents  him  under  a  false  vizard ;  but  the  skill  of  faith  is,  to  pre- 
sent him  as  a  Saviour  clothed  with  salvation.  We  should  not  so  much  look 
what  destruction  the  devil  and  his  threaten,  as  what  salvation  God  pro- 
miseth.  To  God  belong  'the  issues  of  death,'  Ps.  Isviii.  20;  and  of  aU 
other  troubles,  which  are  lesser  deaths.  Cannot  he  that  hath  vouchsafed 
an  issue  in  Christ  from  eternal  death,  vouchsafe  an  issue  from  all  temporal 
evils  ?  If  he  wiU  raise  our  bodies,  cannot  he  raise  our  conditions  ?  He 
that  brought  us  into  trouble  can  easily  make  a  way  out  of  it  when  he  pleaseth. 
This  should  be  a  ground  of  resolute  and  absolute  obedience,  even  in  our 
greatest  extremities,  considering  God  wiU  either  deliver  us  from  death,  or 
by  death,  and  at  length  out  of  death. 

So  then,  when  we  are  in  any  danger,  we  see  whither  to  go  for  salvation,  even 
to  him  that  is  nothing  else  but  salvation  ;  but  then  we  must  trust  in  him,  as 
David  doth,  and  conceive  of  him  as  salvation,  that  we  may  trust  in  him. 
If  we  will  not  trust  in  salvation,  what  will  we  trust  in  7  and  if  salvation  itself 
cannot  save  us,  what  can  ?  Out  of  salvation  there  is  nothing  but  destruc- 
tion, which  those  that  seek  it  anywhere  out  of  God,  are  sure  to  meet  with. 


260  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

How  pitiful  then  is  their  case,  who  go  to  a  destroyer  for  salvation !  that 
seek  for  help  from  hell ! 

Here  also  we  see  to  whom  to  return  praise  in  all  our  deliverances,  even 
to  the  God  of  our  salvation.  The  Virgin  Mary  was  stirred  up  to  magnify 
the  Lord ;  but  why  ?  *  Her  spirit  rejoiced  in  God  her  Saviour,'  Luke  i.  47. 
"Whosoever  is  the  instrument  of  any  good,  yet  salvation  is  of  the  Lord ; 
whatsoever  brings  it,  he  sends  it.  Hence  in  their  holy  feasts  for  any  de- 
liverance, the  cup  they  drank  was  called  the  cup  of  salvation ;  and  therefore 
David  when  he  summons  his  thoughts,  what  to  render  unto  God,  he  re- 
solves upon  this,  to  take  '  the  cup  of  salvation,'  Ps.  cxvi.  13.  But 
always  remember  this,  that  when  we  thiuk  of  God  as  salvation,  we 
must  think  of  him  as  he  is  in  Christ  to  his.  For  so  everything  in 
God  is  saving,  even  his  most  terrible  attributes  of  justice  and  power.  Out 
of  Christ,  the  sweetest  things  in  God  are  terrible.  Salvation  itself  will  not 
save  out  of  Christ,  who  is  the  only  way  of  salvation,  called  the  way,  the 
truth,  and  the  hfe,  John  xiv.  6. 

David  addeth,  '  He  is  the  salvation  of  my  countenance,'  that  is,  he  will 
first  speak  salvation  to  my  soul,  and  say,  I  am  thy  salvation  ;  and  when 
the  heart  is  cheered,  which  is  as  it  were  the  sun  of  this  little  world,  the 
beams  of  that  joy  mH.  shine  in  the  countenance.  Time  joy  begins  at  the 
centre,  and  so  passeth  to  the  circumference,  the  outward  man.  The  coun- 
tenance is  as  the  glass  of  the  soul,  wherein  you  may  see  the  naked  face  of 
the  soul,  according  as  the  several  affections  thereof  stand.  In  the  counte- 
nance of  an  understanding  creature,  you  may  see  more  than  a  bare  counte- 
nance. The  spirit  of  one  man  may  see  the  countenance  of  another's  inner 
man  in  his  outward  countenance ;  which  hath  a  speech  of  its  own,  and 
declares  what  the  heart  saith,  and  how  it  is  affected. 

Quest.  But  how  comes  God  to  be  the  salvation  of  oiir  countenance  ? 

Ans.  I  answer,  God  only  graciously  shines  in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ,  which 
we  with  the  eye  of  faith  beholding,  receive  those  beams  of  his  grace,  and  reflect 
them  back  again.  God  shiueth  upon  us  first,  and  we  shine  in  that  light 
of  his  countenance  upon  us.  '  The  joy  of  salvation,'  Ps.  U.  12,  especially 
of  spiritual  and  eternal  salvation,  is  the  only  true  joy  :  all  other  salvations 
end  at  last  in  destruction,  and  are  no  farther  comfortable  than  they  issue 
from  God's  saving  love. 

God  will  have  the  body  partake  with  the  soul.  As  in  matter  of  grief,  so 
in  matter  of  joy,  the  lantern  shines  in  the  light  of  the  candle  within. 

2.  Again,  God  brings  forth  the  joy  of  the  heart  into  the  countenance,  for  the 
further  spreading  and  niultiplying  of  joy  to  others. 

Next  unto  the  sight  of  the  sweet  countenance  of  God,  is  the  beholding  of 
the  cheerful  countenance  of  a  Christian  friend,  rejoicing  from  true  grounds. 
Whence  it  is  that  the  joy  of  one  becomes  the  joy  of  many,  and  the  joys  of 
many  meet  in  one ;  by  which  means,  as  many  lights  together  make  the 
gi'eater  light,  so  many  lightsome  spirits  make  the  greater  light  of  spirit : 
and  God  receiveth  the  more  praise,  which  makes  him  so  much  to  delight 
in  the  prosperity  of  his  children.  Hence  it  is,  that  in  any  deliverance  of 
God's  people,  '  the  righteous  do  compass  them  about,'  Ps.  cxlii.  7,  to  know 
*  what  God  hath  done  for  their  souls  ;'  and  keep  a  spiritual  feast  with  them 
in  partaking  of  their  joy.  And  the  godly  have  cause  to  joy  in  the  deliver- 
ance of  other  Christians,  because  they  sufiered  in  their  afliictions,  and  it 
may  be  in  their  sins  the  cause  of  them,  which  made  them  somewhat 
ashamed.  Whence  it  is,  that  David's  great  desire  was,  that  '  those  who 
feared  God  might  not  be  ashamed  because  of  him,'  Ps.  Im.  6  :  insinuating 


THE  soul's  conflict.  261 

that  those  who  fear  God's  name  are  ashamed  of  the  falls  of  God's  people. 
Kow  when  God  delivers  them,  this  reproach  is  removed,  and  those  that  had 
part  in  their  sorrow  have  part  in  their  joy. 

3.  Again,  God  will  have  salvation  so  open,  that  it  shall  appear  in  the 
countenance  of  his  people,  the  more  to  daunt  and  vex  the  enemies.  Cainish 
hypocrites  hang  down  their  heads,  when  God  lifts  up  the  countenance  of 
their  brethren.  When  the  countenance  of  God's  children  clears  up,  then 
their  enemies'  hearts  and  looks  are  cloudy.  Jerusalem's  joy  is  Babylon's 
sorrow.  It  is  with  the  church  and  her  enemies  as  it  is  with  a  balance,  the 
scales  whereof,  when  one  is  up,  the  other  is  down.  Whilst  God's  people  are 
under  a  cloud,  carnal  people  insult  over  them,  as  if  they  were  men  deserted 
of  God.  Whereupon  they  hang  down  their  heads,  and  the  rather,  because 
they  think  that  by  reason  of  their  sin,  Christ  and  his  religion  will  suffer 
with  them.  Hence  David's  care  was,  that  the  miseries  of  God's  people 
'  should  not  be  told  in  Gath,'  2  Sam.  i.  20.  The  chief  reason  why  the 
enemies  of  the  church  gnash  their  teeth  at  the  sight  of  God's  gracious  deal- 
ing, is,  that  they  take  the  rising  of  the  church  to  be  a  presage  of  their  ruin : 
a  lesson  which  Haman's  wife  had  learned,  Esther  vi.  13. 

This  is  a  comfort  to  us  in  these  times  of  Jacob's  trouble  and  Zion's 
sorrow.  The  captivity  of  the  church  shall  return,  '  as  rivers  in  the  south,' 
Ps.  cxxvi.  1.  Therefore  the  church  may  say,  '  Rejoice  not  over  me,  0  my 
enemy;  though  I  am  fallen,  I  shall  rise  again,'  Mic.  vii.  8.  Though  Christ's 
spouse  be  now  as  black  as  the  pots,  yet  she  shall  be  as  white  as  the  dove,  Ps. 
Ixviii.  13.  If  there  were  not  great  dangers,  where  were  the  glory  of  God's 
great  deliverance  ?  The  church  at  length  wUl  be  as  'a  cup  of  trembHng,' 
and  as  '  a  burdensome  stone,'  Zech.  xii.  2.  The  blood  of  the  saints  cry, 
their  enemies'  violence  cries,  the  prayers  of  the  church  cry,  for  deliverance 
and  vengeance  upon  the  enemies  of  the  church  ;  and  as  that  '  importunate 
widow,'  Luke  xi.  5,  will  at  length  prevail.  Shall  the  importunity  of  one 
poor  woman  prevail  with  an  unrighteous  judge,  and  shall  not  the  prayers  of 
many  that  cry  unto  the  righteous  God  take  effect  ?  If  there  were  armies  of 
prayers,  as  there  are  armies  of  men,  we  should  see  the  stream  of  things 
turned  another  way.  A  few  Moseses  in  the  mount  would  do  more  good  than 
many  soldiers  in  the  valley.  If  we  would  lift  up  our  hearts  and  hands 
to  God,  he  would  lift  up  our  countenance.  But  alas  !  we  either  pray  not, 
or  cross  our  own  prayers,  for  want  of  love  to  the  truth  of  God  and  his  people. 

It  is  we  that  keep  antichrist  and  his  faction  alive,  to  plague  the  im- 
thankfal  world.  The  strength  he  hath  is  not  from  his  own  cause,  but  from 
our  want  of  zeal.  We  hinder  those  hallelujahs  by  private  brabbles,* 
coldness  and  indifferency  in  religion.  The  church  begins  at  this  time  a 
httle  to  hft  up  her  head  again.  Now  is  the  time  to  follow  God  with  pray- 
ers, that  he  would  perfect  his  work,  and  plead  his  own  cause  ;  that  he 
would  be  revenged  not  only  of  ours,  but  his  enemies  ;  that  he  would  wholly 
free  his  church  from  that  miserable  bondage.  These  beginnings  give  our 
faith  some  hold  to  be  encouraged  to  go  to  God,  for  the  fulfflling  of  his 
gracious  promise,  that  the  church  may  rejoice  in  the  salvation  of  the  Lord. 
God  doth  but  look  for  some  to  seek  unto  him  ;  Christ  doth  but  stay  until 
he  is  awaked  by  our  prayers.  But  it  is  to  be  feared  that  God  hath  not  yet 
perfected  his  work  in  Zion.  The  church  is  not  yet  fully  prepared  for  a  full 
and  glorious  deliverance.  If  God  had  once  his  ends  in  the  humiliation  of 
the  church  for  sins  past,  with  resolution  of  reformation  for  the  time  to  come, 
then  this  age,  perhaps,  might  '  see  the  salvation  of  the  Lord,'  which  the 
*  That  is,  '  sauabblea.' — G. 


^62  THE  soul's  conflict. 

generations  to  come  shall  be  witness  of, '  we  should  see  Zion  in  her  perfect 
beauty,'  Ps.  1.  2.  The  generations  of  those  that  came  out  of  Egypt  saw 
and  enjoyed  the  pleasant  land  which  their  progenitors  were  shut  out  of ; 
who  by  reason  of  their  murmuring  and  looking  back  to  Egypt,  and  forget- 
fulness  of  the  wonders  which  God  had  done  for  and  before  them,  perished 
in  the  wilderness. 

Use.  There  is  little  cause,  therefore,  of  envying  the  present  flourishing 
of  the  enemies  of  the  church,  and  of  joining  and  colluding  *  with  them ; 
for  it  will  prove  the  wisest  resolution  to  resolve  to  fall  and  rise  with  the 
church  of  Christ,  considering  the  enemies  themselves  shall  say,  God  hath 
done  great  things  for  them  ;  kings  shall  lay  their  crowns  at  '  Christ's  feet,' 
and  'bring  all  their  glory  to  the  church,'  Eev.  xxi.  24. 

And  for  every  Christian  this  may  be  a  comfort,  that  though  their  light 
for  a  time  may  be  ecUpsed,  yet  it  shall  break  forth.  David  at  this  time 
was  accounted  an  enemy  of  the  state,  and  had  a  world  of  false  imputations 
laid  upon  him,  which  he  was  very  sensible  of ;  yet  we  see  here,  he  knew  at 
length  God  would  be  '  the  salvation  of  his  countenance.' 

Obj.  But  some,  as  Gideon,  may  object,  '  If  God  intend  to  be  so  gracious, 
why  is  it  thus  with  us  ?'  Judges  vi.  13. 

Ans.  The  answer  is,  salvation  is  God's  own  work,  humbling  and  casting 
down  is  his  strange  work,  whereby  he  comes  to  his  own  work.  For,  when 
he  intends  to  save,  he  vdll  seem  to  destroy  first ;  and  when  he  will  justify, 
he  will  condemn  fii-st ;  whom  he  wiU  revive,  he  wiU  kill  first.  Grace  and 
goodness  countenanced  by  God,  have  a  native  inbred  majesty  in  them, 
which  maketh  the  face  to  shine,  and  borroweth  not  its  lustre  from  without, 
which  God  at  length  will  have  to  appear  in  its  own  Ukeness,  howsoever 
malice  may  cast  a  veil  thereon,  and  disguise  it  for  a  time.  And  though 
wickedness,  as  it  is  base  born,  and  a  child  of  darkness,  may  shelter  itself 
under  authority  a  while,  yet  it  shall  hide  itself  and  run  into  comers.  The 
comfort  of  comforts  is,  that  at  that  great  day,  the  day  of  all  days,  that 
day  *  of  the  revelation  of  the  righteous  judgment  of  God,'  the  righteous 
shall  then  shine  as  the  sun  in  the  firmament,  Dan.  xii.  3 ;  then  Christ 
will  come  to  be  glorious  in  his  saints,  and  will  be  the  salvation  of  the 
countenance  of  all  his.  Then  all  the  works  of  darkness  shall  be  driven 
out  of  countenance,  and  adjudged  to  the  place  from  whence  they  came. 
In  the  mean  time,  let  us,  with  David,  support  ourselves  with  the  hopes  of 
these  times. 


Chapter  XXX. — Of  God,  our  God,  and  of  particular  application. 

My  God. 

These  words  imply  a  special  interest  that  the  holy  man  had  in  God,  as 
his  God,  being  the  ground  of  all  which  was  said  before ;  both  of  the  duty 
of  trusting,  and  of  praising,  and  of  the  salvation  that  he  expected  from 
God.  He  is  my  God,  therefore  be  not  disquieted,  but  trust  him.  He  is 
my  God,  therefore  he  will  give  me  matter  to  praise  him,  and  will  be  the 
salvation  of  my  countenance.  God  hath  some  special  ones  in  the  world, 
to  whom  he  doth  as  it  were  pass  over  himself,  and  whose  God  he  is  by 
virtue  of  a  more  special  covenant ;  whence  we  have  these  excellent  expres- 
sions, *  I  will  be  your  God,  and  you  shall  be  my  people,'  Jer.  xxxi.  33 ; 
'  I  will  be  your  Father,  and  you  shall  be  my  sons  and  daughters,'  2  Cor. 
*  That  is,  '  falling  in  with.'— G. 


THE  soul's  conflict.  263 

vi.  18.  Since  the  fall,  we  having  lost  our  communion  with  God  the  chief 
good,  our  happiness  stands  in  recovering  again  fellowship  with  him.  For 
tiiia  end  we  were  created,  and  for  this  redeemed,  and  for  effecting  of  this 
the  word  and  sacraments  are  sanctified  to  us ;  yea,  and  for  this  end  God 
himself,  out  of  the  bowels  of  his  compassion,  vouchsafed  to  enter  into  a 
gracious  covenant  with  us,  founded  upon  Jesus  Christ,  and  his  satisfaction 
to  divine  justice ;  so  that  by  faith  we  become  one  with  him,  and  receive 
him  as  offered  of  his  Father  to  '  be  all  in  all  to  us,'  Col.  iii.  11. 

Hence  it  is  that  Christ  hath  his  name  Immanuel,  God  with  us.  Not 
only  because  he  is  God  and  man  too,  both  natures  meeting  in  one  person, 
but  because  being  God  in  our  nature,  he  hath  undertook  this  office  to  bring 
God  and  us  together.  The  main  end  of  Christ's  coming  and  suffering  was 
to  reconcile,  and  to  gather  together  in  one ;  and,  as  Peter  expresseth  it, 
*  to  bring  man  again  to  God,'  1  Pet.  iii.  18.  Immanuel  is  the  bond  of  this 
happy  agreement,  and  appears  for  ever  in  heaven  to  make  it  good.  As 
the  comfort  hereof  is  great,  so  the  foundation  of  it  is  sure  and  everlasting. 
God  will  be  our  God  so  long  as  he  is  Christ's  God,  and  because  he  is 
Christ's  God,  John  xx.  10.  Thus  the  father  of  the  faithful,  and  all  other 
holy  men  before  Christ,  apprehended  God  to  be  their  God  in  the  Messiah 
to  come.  Christ  was  the  ground  of  their  interest.  He  was  yesterday  to 
them  as  well  as  to-day  to  us,  Heb.  xiii.  Hence  it  is  that  God  is  called  the 
portion.  Psalm  Ixxiii.  26,  of  his  people,  and  they  his  jewels,  Mai.  iii.  25  ; 
he  is  their  only  rock  and  strong  tower.  Psalm  Ixxi.  3,  and  they  his  peculiar 
ones. 

Use.  Well  may  we  wonder  that  the  great  God  should  stoop  so  low,  to 
enter  into  such  a  covenant  of  grace  and  peace,  founded  upon  such  a 
mediator,  with  such  utter  enemies,  base  creatures,  sinful  dust  and  ashes 
as  we  are.  This  is  the  wonderment  of  angels,  a  torment  of  devils,  and 
glory  of  our  nature  and  persons ;  and  will  be  matter  of  admiration  and 
praising  God  unto  us  for  all  eternity. 

As  God  offereth  himself  to  be  ours  in  Christ,  else  durst  we  lay  no  claim 
to  him,  so  there  must  be  in  us  an  appropriating  grace  of  faith,  to  lay  hold 
of  this  offer.  David  saith  here.  My  God.  But  by  what  spirit?  By  a 
spirit  of  faith  which,  looking  to  God's  offer,  maketh  it  his  own  whatsoever 
it  lays  hold  of.  God  offereth  himself  in  covenant,  and  faith  catcheth  hold 
thereon  presently.  With  a  gracious  offer  of  God  there  goeth  a  gracious 
touch  of  his  Spirit  to  the  soul,  giving  it  sight  and  strength,  whereby,  being 
aided  by  the  same  Spirit,  it  layeth  hold  on  God  shewing  himself  in  love. 
God  saith  to  the  soul,  I  am  thy  salvation ;  and  the  soul  saith  again.  Thou 
art  my  God.  Faith  is  nothing  else  but  a  spiritual  echo,  returning  that 
voice  back  again,  which  God  first  speaks  to  the  soul.  For  what  acquaint- 
ance could  the  soul  claim  with  so  glorious  a  Majesty,  if  he  should  not  fii'st 
condescend  so  low  as  to  speak  peace  and  whisper  secretly  to  the  soul,  that 
he  is  our  loving  God  and  Father,  and  we  his  peculiar  ones  in  Christ ;  that 
om-  sins  are  all  pardoned,  his  justice  fully  satisfied,  and  our  persons  freely 
accepted  in  his  dear  Son  ? 

But  to  come  more  particularly  to  the  words.  My  God.  The  words  are 
pregnant.  In  the  womb  of  them,  all  that  is  graciously  and  comfortably 
good  is  contained.  They  are  the  spring-head  of  all  particular  blessings. 
All  particular  relations  and  titles  that  it  pleaseth  God  to  take  upon  him, 
have  their  strength  fi-om  hence,  that  God  is  our  God.  More  cannot  be 
said,  and  less  will  not  serve  the  turn.  Whatsoever  else  we  have,  if  we 
have  not  God,  it  will  prove  but  an  empty  cistern  at  last.    He  is  our  proper 


264  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

element.  Everything  desires  to  live  in  its  own  element :  fishes  in  the  sea, 
birds  in  the  air ;  in  this  they  are  best  preserved. 

There  is  a  greater  strength  in  this  'My  God,'  than  in  any  other  title.  It 
is  more  than  if  he  had  said,  My  King,  or  My  Lord.  These  are  words  of 
sovereignty  and  wisdom ;  but  this  implies  not  only  infinite  power,  sove- 
reignty, and  wisdom,  but  likewise  infinite  bounty  and  provident  care ;  so 
that  when  we  are  said  to  be  God's  people,  the  meaning  is,  that  we  are  not 
only  such  over  whom  God  hath  a  power  and  command,  but  such  as  toward 
whom  he  shews  a  loving  and  peculiar  respect. 

In  the  words  is  implied:  1.  A  propriety  and  interest  in  God.  2. 
An  improvement  of  the  same  for  the  quieting  of  the  soul. 

David  here  lays  a  particular  claim,  by  a  particular  faith,  unto  God.  The 
reason  is  :  1.  The  virtue  of  faith  is,  as  to  lay  hold,  so  to  appropriate  to  it- 
self, and  make  its  own,  whatever  it  lays  hold  on ;  and  it  doth  no  more  in 
this  than  God  gives  it  leave  by  his  gracious  promises  to  do. 

2.  As  God  ofiers,  so  faith  receives ;  but  God  offers  himself  in  particular 
to  the  believing  soul  by  his  Spirit,  therefore  our  faith  must  be  particular. 
That  which  the  sacraments  seal,  is  a  peculiar  interest  in  Christ.  This  is 
that  which  hath  always  upheld  the  saints  of  God,  and  that  which  is  ever 
joined  with  the  life  of  Christ  in  us.  *  The  life  that  I  live,'  saith  Paul,  '  is 
by  the  faith  of  the  Son  of  God,  who  loved  me,  and  gave  himself  for  me,' 
Gal.  ii.  20.     The  spirit  of  faith  is  a  spirit  of  application. 

This  is  implied  in  all  the  articles  of  our  faith.  We  beheve  God  to  be 
our  Father,  and  Christ  to  be  born  for  us ;  that  he  died  for  us,  and  rose 
again  for  our  good,  and  now  sits  at  the  right  hand  of  God,  making  requests 
for  us  in  particular. 

3.  This  is  that  which  distinguisheth  the  faith  of  a  true  Christian  from 
all  hypocrites  and  castaways  whatsoever.  Were  it  not  for  this  word  of 
possession,  mine,  the  devil  might  say  the  Creed  to  as  good  purpose  as  we. 
He  beheves  there  is  a  God  and  a  Christ ;  but  that  which  torments  him  is 
this,  he  can  say  my  to  never  an  article  of  faith. 

4.  A  general  apprehension  of  God's  goodness  and  mercy  may  stand 
with  desperation.  Take  away  my  from  God,  and  take  away  God  himself 
in  regard  of  comfort.  Tolls  meum,  telle  Deum.  What  comfort  was  it  for 
Adam,  when  he  was  shut  out  of  Paradise,  to  look  upon  it  after  he  had  lost 
it  ?  The  more  excellencies  are  in  God,  the  more  our  grief  if  we  have  not 
our  part  in  them.  The  very  Ufe-blood  of  the  gospel  lies  in  a  special  appli- 
cation of  particular  mercy  to  ourselves.  All  relations  that  God  and  Christ 
have  taken  upon  them  imply  a  necessity  of  application.  What  if  God  be 
a  rock  of  salvation,  if  we  do  not  rest  upon  him  ?  What  if  he  be  a  foundation, 
and  we  do  not  build  on  him?  What  if  he  offers  himself  as  a  husband,  if  we 
will  not  accept  of  him,  what  avails  it  us  ?  How  can  we  rejoice  in  the  salvation 
of  our  souls,  unless  we  can  in  particular  say,  '  /rejoice  in  God  my  Saviour.' 

5.  Without  particular  application,  we  can  neither  entertain  the  love  of 
God,  nor  return  love  again,  by  which  means  we  lose  all  the  comfort  God 
intends  us  in  his  word,  which  of  purpose  was  written  for  our  solace  and 
refi-eshment.  Take  away  particular  faith,  and  we  let  out  aU  the  spirits  of 
cheerful  and  thankful  obedience. 

This  possessive  particle,  my,  hath  place  in  all  the  golden  chain  of  our 
salvation.  The  first  spring  of  all  God's  claim  to  us  as  his,  is  in  his  elec- 
tion of  us.  We  were  by  grace  his,  before  we  were.  Those  that  are  his 
from  that  eternal  love,  he  gives  to  Christ.  This  is  hid  in  the  breast  of  God, 
till  he  calls  us  out  of  the  rest  of  the  world  into  communion  with  Christ. 


r-"-  THE  soul's  CONFLICT.  265 

In  answering  of  wHch  call,  by  faith,  we  become  one  with  Christ,  and  so 
one  with  him.  Afterwards,  in  justification,  we  feel  God  experimentally  to 
be  reconciled  unto  us,  whence  arises  joy  and  inward  peace.  And  then, 
upon  further  sanctification,  God  delights  in  us  as  his,  bearing  his  own 
image,  and  we  from  a  likeness  to  God  delight  in  him  as  ours  in  his  Christ, 
and  so  this  mutual  interest  betwixt  God  and  us  continues,  until  at  last  God 
becomes  all  in  all  unto  us; 

Obj.  But  how  can  a  man  that  is  not  yet  in  the  state  of  grace  say  with 
any  comfort,  My  God  ? 

Ans.  Whilst  a  man  '  regards  iniquity  in  his  heart,'  Ps.  Ixvi.  18,  without 
any  remorse  or  disUke  of  the  same,  if  he  saith.  My  God,  his  heart  will  give 
his  tongue  the  he,  however  in  an  outward  profession  and  opinion  of  others 
he  may  bear  himself  as  if  God  were  his,  upon  false  grounds.  For  there 
can  be  no  more  in  a  conclusion,  than  it  hath  from  the  principle  and  pre- 
mises out  of  which  it  is  drawn.  The  principle  here  is,  that  God  is  the  God 
of  all  that  trust  in  him.  Now  if  we  can  make  it  good,  that  we  truly  trust  in 
God,  we  may  safely  conclude  of  comfort  from  him ;  for  the  more  certain 
clearing  of  which,  try  yourselves  by  the  signs  of  trust  delivered.* 

It  is  no  easy  matter  to  say  in  truth  of  heart.  My  God ;  the  flesh  will 
still  labour  for  supremacy.  God  should  be  all  in  all  unto  us ;  but  this  will 
not  be  till  these  bodies  of  flesh,  together  with  the  body  of  sin,  be  laid  aside. 
He  that  says,  God  is  my  God,  and  doth  not  yield  up  himself  unto  God, 
raisoth  a  building  without  a  foundation,  layeth  a  claim  without  a  title,  and 
claimeth  a  title  without  an  evidence,  reckoning  upon  a  bargain,  without 
consent  of  the  party  with  whom  he  would  contract. 

But  if  a  man  shall,  out  of  the  sight  and  sense  of  sin,  thirst  after  mercy 
in  Christ,  and  call  unto  God  for  pardon,  then  God,  who  is  a  God  '  hearing 
prayer,'  Ps.  Ixv.  2,  and  dehghteth  to  be  known  by  the  name  of  merciful, 
will  be  ready  to  close  and  meet  with  the  desire  of  such  a  soul,  so  far  as  to 
give  it  leave  to  rely  upon  him  for  mercy,  and  that  without  presumption,  until 
he  foi'ther  discovers  himself  graciously  unto  it ;  upon  sense  of  which  grace 
the  soul  may  be  encouraged  to  lay  a  foi'ther  claim  unto  God,  having  further 
acquaintance  with  him.  Hence  are  those  exhortations  so  oft  in  the  pro- 
phets, to  '  turn  unto  the  Lord  our  God,'  Zech.  i.  3,  because  upon  our  first 
resolution  to  turn  unto  God,  we  shall  find  him  always  ready  to  answer 
those  desires  that  he  stirs  up  by  his  own  Spirit  in  us. 

We  are  not  therefore  to  stay  our  turning  unto  God,  till  we  feel  him  saying 
to  our  hearts,  '  I  am  thy  God,'  Isa.  xli.  10;  but  when  he  prevents  us  by  his 
grace,  enabling  us  to  desire  grace,  let  us  follow  the  work  begun  in  the 
strength  of  what  grace  we  have,  and  then  God  will  further  manifest  himself 
in  mercy  to  us. 

Yet  God,  before  we  can  make  anything  towards  him,  lets  into  our  hearts 
some  few  beams  of  mercy,  thereby  drawing  us  unto  him,  and  reaching  us 
out  a  hint  to  lay  hold  upon. 

And  as  sin  causeth  a  distance  betwixt  God  and  us,  so  the  guilt  of  sin  in 
the  conscience,  causeth  further  strangeness,  insomuch  that  we  dare  not  look 
up  to  heaven,  tiU  God  open  a  Uttle  crevice  to  let  in  a  little  light  of  comfort 
at  least  into  our  souls,  whereby  we  are  by  little  and  little  drawn  nearer  to 
him.  But  this  Ught  at  the  fij-st  is  so  little,  that  in  regard  of  the  greater 
sense  of  sin,  and  a  larger  desire  of  grace,  the  soul  reckons  the  same  as  no 
light  at  all,  in  comparison  of  what  it  desires  and  seeks  after.  Yet  the 
comfort  is,  that  this  dawning  light  will  at  length  clear  up  to  a  perfect  day. 
*  See  chap,  xviii.  pp.  212-218. 


266  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

Thus  we  see  how  this  claim  of  God  to  be  our  God,  is  still  in  growth 
until  fall  assurance,  and  that  there  is  a  great  distance  betwixt  the  first  act  of 
faith  in  cleaving  to  God,  offering  himself  in  Christ  to  be  ours,  and  between 
the  last  fruit,  of  faith  the  clear  and  comfortable  feeHng,  that  God  is  our  God 
indeed.  We  first  by  faith  apply  ourselves  to  God,  and  then  apply  God  to 
us,  to  be  ours ;  the  first  is  the  conflicting  exercise  of  faith,  the  last  is  the 
triumph  of  faith  ;  therefore  faith  properly  is  not  assurance.  And  to  com- 
fort us  the  more,  the  promises  are  specially  made  to  the  act  of  faith ;  fuller 
assurance  is  the  reward  of  faith. 

Obj.  If  God  hath  not  chosen  me  in  Christ  to  be  his,  what  ground  have  I  to 
trust  in  him  ?     I  may  cast  away  myself  upon  a  vain  confidence. 

Am.  We  have  no  ground  at  first  to  trouble  ourselves  about  God's  election. 
Secret  things  belong  to  God,  Deut.  xxix.  29.  God's  revealed  will  is,  '  that  all 
that  believe  in  Christ  shall  not  perish,'  John  iii.  15.  It  is  my  duty  there- 
fore, knowing  this,  to  believe,  by  doing  whereof,  I  put  that  question,  whether 
God  be  mine  or  no  ?  out  of  all  question ;  for  all  that  believe  in  Christ  are 
Christ's,  and  all  that  are  Christ's  are  God's.  It  is  not  my  duty  to  look  to 
God's  secret  counsel,  but  to  his  open  offer,  invitation,  and  command,  and 
thereupon  to  adventure  my  soul.  And  this  adventure  of  faith  will  bring  at 
length  a  rich  return  unto  us.  In  war  men  will  adventure  their  lives,  be- 
cause they  think  some  will  escape,  and  why  not  they  ?  In  traffic  beyond 
the  seas  many  adventure  great  estates,  because  some  grow  rich  by  a  good 
return,  though  many  miscarry.  The  husbandman  adventures  his  seed, 
though  sometime  the  year  proves  so  bad,  that  he  never  sees  it  more.* 
And  shall  not  we  make  a  spiritual  adventure  in  casting  ourselves  upon  God, 
when  we  have  so  good  a  warrant  as  his  command,  and  so  good  an  encourage- 
ment as  his  promise,  that  he  will  not  fail  those  that  rely  on  him  ?  God 
bids  us  *  draw  near  to  him,  and  he  will  draw  near  to  us,'  Deut.  xxix.  29. 
Whilst  we  in  God's  own  ways  draw  near  to  him,  and  labour  to  entertain 
good  thoughts  of  him,  he  will  delight  to  shew  himself  favourable  unto  us. 
Whilst  we  are  striving  against  an  unbelieving  heart,  he  will  come  in  and 
help  us,  and  so  fresh  light  will  come  in. 

Pretend  not  thy  unworthiness  and  inability,  to  keep  thee  off  fi'om  God, 
for  this  is  the  way  to  keep  thee  so  still.  If  anything  help  us,  it  must  be 
God,  and  if  ever  he  help  us,  it  must  be  by  casting  ourselves  upon  him;  for 
then  he  will  reach  out  himself  unto  us  in  the  promise  of  mercy  to  pardon 
our  sin,  and  in  the  promise  of  grace  to  sanctify  our  natures.  It  was  a  good 
resolution  of  the  lepers,  '  If  we  enter  into  the  city,  the  famine  is  there,  and 
we  shall  die,  say  they;  if  we  sit  still,  we  shall  die  also:  let  us  therefore  fall 
into  the  host  of  Assyrians,  if  they  save  us,  we  shall  live  ;  if  they  kill  us,  we 
shall  but  die,'  2  Kings  vii.  4.  Omnia  in  rebiis  humanis  spes  futurorwn  agunt. 
So  we  should  reason :  if  we  sit  still  under  the  load  of  our  sin,  we  shall  die ; 
if  we  put  ourselves  into  the  hands  of  Christ,  if  he  save  us,  we  shall  Uve ; 
if  he  save  us  not,  we  shall  but  die.  Nay,  sui'ely  he  will  not  suffer  us  to 
die.  Did  ever  Christ  thrust  any  back  firom  him,  that  put  themselves  upon 
him  ?  unless  it  were  by  that  means  to  draw  them  the  nearer  unto  him,  as 
we  see  in  the  '  woman  of  Canaan,'  Mat.  xv.  27.  His  denial  was  but  to  in- 
crease her  importunity.  We  should  therefore  do  as  she  did,  gather  all 
arguments  to  help  our  faith.  Suppose  I  am  a  dog,  saith  she,  yet  I  am  one 
of  the  family,  and  therefore  have  right  to  the  crumbs  that  fall.     So,  Lord, 

*  Quis  poUicetur  serenti,  proventum ;  naviganti  portum  ;  militanti  victoriam  ? 
Ideo  navigantes  vitam  ventis  credunt,  etc.  Ideo  terris  frumenta  credimus  ut  cum 
usuris  credita  recipiamus. — Salvian\ua\. 


THE  soul's  conflict.  '267 

I  have  been  a  sinner,  yet  I  am  thy  creature ;  and  not  only  so,  but  such  a 
creature  as  thou  has  set  over  the  rest  of  the  works  of  thy  hands  ;  and  not 
only  so,  but  one  whom  thou  hast  admitted  into  thy  ehurch  by  baptism, 
whereby  thou  wouldst  bind  me  to  give  myself  unto  thee  beforehand  ;  and 
more  than  this,  thou  hast  brought  me  under  the  means,  and  therein  hast 
shewed  thy  will  concerning  my  turning  towards  thee.  Thou  hast  not  only 
offered  me  conditions  of  peace,  but  wooed  me  by  thy  ministers  to  give  up 
myself  unto  thee,  as  thine  in  thy  Christ.  Therefore  I  dare  not  suspect  thy 
good  meaning  towards  me,  or  question  thy  intendment,*  but  resolve  to 
take  thy  counsel,  and  put  myseK  upon  thy  mercy.  I  cannot  think,  if 
thou  hadst  meant  to  cast  me  away,  and  not  to  own  me  for  thine,  thou 
wouldst  ever  have  kindled  these  desires  in  me.  But  it  is  not  this  state  I 
rest  in,  my  purpose  is  to  wait  upon  thee,  until  thou  dost  manifest  thyself 
farther  unto  me.  It  is  not  common  favours  that  will  content  me,  though  I 
be  unworthy  of  these ;  because  I  hear  of  choice  blessings  towards  thy  chosen 
j)eople,  that  thou  enterest  into  a  peculiar  covenant  withal,  sure  mercies,  Isa. 
Iv.  3  ;  and  such  as  accompany  salvation.  These  be  the  favours  I  wait  for 
at  thy  hand.  '  0  visit  me  with  the  salvation  of  thy  chosen,'  Ps.  cvi.  4,  5. 
0  remember  me  with  the  favour  of  thy  people,  that  I  may  see  '  the  good  of 
thy  chosen.'  Whilst  the  soul  is  thus  exercised,  more  sweetness  falls  upon 
the  will  and  affections,  whereby  they  are  drawn  still  nearer  unto  God  ;  the 
soul  is  in  a  getting  and  thriving  condition.  For  God  dehghts  to  shew 
himself  gracious  to  those  that  strive  to  be  well  persuaded  of  him,  concerning 
his  readiness  to  shew  mercy  to  all  that  look  towards  him  in  Christ.  In 
worldly  things,  how  do  we  cherish  hopes  upon  little  grounds !  if  there 
shineth  never  so  little  hope  of  gain  or  preferment,  we  make  after  it :  why 
then  should  we  forsake  our  own  mercy,  which  God  offers  to  be  om-  own,  if 
we  will  embrace  it,  having  such  certain  grounds  for  our  hope  to  rest  on  ? 

It  was  the  pohcy  of  the  servants  of  Benhadad  to  watch  if  any  word  of 
comfort  fell  from  the  king  of  Israel,  and  when  he  named  Benhadad  his 
brother,  they  catched  presently  at  that,  and  cheered  themselves,  1  Kings 
XX.  33.  Faith  hath  a  catching  quahty  at  whatsoever  is  near  to  lay  hold  on. 
Like  the  branches  of  the  vine,  it  windeth  about  that  which  is  next,  and 
stays  itself  upon  it,  spreading  further  and  further  still.  If  nature  taught 
Benhadad' s  servants  to  lay  hold  upon  any  word  of  comfort  that  fell  from 
the  mouth  of  a  cruel  king,  shaU  not  grace  teach  God's  children  to  lie  in  wait 
for  a  token  that  he  will  shew  for  good  to  them  ?  How  should  we  stretch 
forth  the  arms  of  our  faith  to  him,  that  '  stretcheth  out  his  arms  all  the  day 
long  to  a  rebellious  people  !'  Isa.  Ixv.  2.  God  will  never  shut  his  bosom 
against  those,  that  in  an  humble  obedience  fly  unto  him.  "We  cannot  con- 
ceive too  graciously  of  God.  Can  we  have  a  fairer  offer,  than  for  God  in 
Christ  to  make  over  himself  unto  us  ?  which  is  more  than  if  he  should 
make  over  a  thousand  worlds.  Therefore  our  chief  care  should  be  first  by 
faith  to  make  this  good,  and  then  to  make  it  useful  unto  us,  by  Uving  upon 
it  as  om-  chiefest  portion,  which  we  shall  do :  1,  By  proving  God  to  be  our 
God  in  particular ;  2,  By  improving  of  it  in  all  the  passages  of  our  Uves. 

Chapteb  XXXI. — Means  of  proving  and  evidencing  to  our  souls  that  God  ts 

our  God. 

1.  Now  we  prove  it  to  our  souls,  that  God  is  ours,  when  we  take  him  at 
his  offer,  when  we  bring  nothing  but  a  sense  of  our  own  emptiness  with  us, 
•  That  is,  '  design,  intention.' — G. 


268  THE  soul's  conflict, 

and  a  good  conceit  of  his  faithMness  and  ability  to  do  us  good,  when  we 
answer  God  in  the  particular  passages  of  salvation,  which  we  cannot  do,  till 
he  begins  unto  us.  Therefore  if  we  be  God's,  it  is  a  certain  sign  that  God  is 
ours.  If  we  choose  him,  we  may  conclude  he  hath  chosen  us  first :  '  if  we 
love  him,  we  may  know  that  he  hath  loved  us  first,'  1  John  iv.  19.  If  we 
apprehend  him,  it  is  because  he  hath  apprehended  us  first.  Whatsoever 
affection  we  shew  to  God,  it  is  a  reflection  of  his  first  to  us.  If  cold  and 
dark  bodies  have  Hght  and  heat  in  them,  it  is  because  the  sun  hath  shined 
upon  them  first.  Mary  answers  not  Eabboni  till  Christ  said  Mary  to  her, 
John  XX.  16.  If  we  say  to  God,  I  am  thine,  it  is  because  he  hath  first  said 
unto  us,  Thou  art  mine ;  after  which,  the  voice  of  the  faithful  soul  is,  *  I 
am  my  beloved's,  and  my  beloved  is  mine,'  Cant.  vi.  3.*  We  may  know 
God's  mind  to  us  in  heaven,  by  the  return  of  our  hearts  upwards  again  to 
him  ;  only  as  the  reflected  beams  are  weaker  than  the  direct,  so  om'  affec- 
tions, in  their  return  to  God,  are  far  weaker  than  his  love  faUing  upon  us. 
God  win  be  to  us  whatsoever  we  make  him  by  our  faith  to  be.  When  by 
grace  we  answer  his  condition  of  trusting,  then  he  becomes  ours  to  use  for 
our  good. 

2.  We  may  know  God  to  be  our  God  when  we  pitch  and  plant  aU  our 
happiness  in  him,  when  the  desires  of  our  souls  are  towards  him,  and  we 
place  aU  our  contentment  in  him.  As  this  word  my  is  a  term  of  appropria- 
tion springing  from  a  special  faith,  so  it  is  a  word  of  love  and  peculiar  affec- 
tion, shewing  that  the  soul  doth  repose  and  rest  itself  quietly  and  securely 
upon  God.  Thus  David  proves  God  to  be  his  God,  by  early  seeking  of 
him,  by  thirsting,  and  longing  after  his  presence,  and  that  upon  good 
reason,  '  because  God's  lovingkindness  was  better  to  him  than  life,'  Ps. 
Ixiii.  1,  2,  3,  &c.  This  he  knew  would  'satisfy  his  soul  as  with  marrow 
and  fatness.'  So  St  Paul  proved  Christ  to  be  his  Lord,  by  '  accounting  aU 
else  as  dung  and  dross  in  comparison  of  him,'  Phil.  iii.  8. 

Then  we  make  God  our  God,  and  set  a  crown  of  majesty  upon  his  head, 
when  we  set  up  a  throne  for  him  in  our  hearts,  where  self-love  before  had 
set  up  the  creature  above  him ;  when  the  heart  is  so  unloosed  from  the 
world,  that  it  is  ready  to  part  with  anything  for  God's  sake,  giving  him  now 
the  supremacy  in  our  hearts,  and  bringing  down  every  high  thought,  in  cap- 
tivity to  him  ;  making  him  our  trust,  our  love,  our  joy,  our  dehght,  our  fear, 
our  all ;  and  whatsoever  we  esteem  or  affect  else,  to  esteem  and  affect  it 
under  him,  in  him,  and  for  him  ;  when  we  cleave  to  him  above  aU,  depend-  | 
ing  upon  him  as  our  chief  good,  and  contenting  ourselves  in  him,  as  aU-suf-  1 
ficient  to  give  our  souls  fit  and  fuU  satisfaction ;  when  we  resign  up  our- 
selves to  his  gracious  government,  to  do  and  suffer  what  he  will,  offering 
ourselves  and  all  our  spiritual  services  as  sacrifices  to  him ;  when  faith 
brings  God  into  the  soul  as  ours,  we  not  only  love  him,  but  love  him  dearly, 
making  it  appear  that  we  are  at  good  terms  with  God,  we  are  at  a  point  for 
other  things.  How  many  are  there  that  will  adventure  the  loss  of  the  love 
of  God  for  a  thing  of  nothing,  and  redeem  the  favour  of  men  vrith  the  loss 
of  God's  !  Certain  it  is,  whatsoever  we  esteem,  or  affect  most,  that,  whatso- 
ever it  be  in  itself,  yet  we  make  it  our  god — Amor  tuus,  Deus  tuus.  The 
best  of  us  all  may  take  shame  to  ourselves  herein  in  that  we  do  not  give  God 
his  due  place  in  us,  but  set  up  some  idol  or  other  in  our  hearts  above  him. 

When  the  soul  can  without  hypocrisy  say.  My  God,  it  engageth  us  to 
universal  and  unlimited  obedience.     We  shall  be  ambitious  of  doing  that 

*  Dicat  anima,  secura  dicat,  Deus  meus  es  tu,  qui  dicit  animse  nostrse :  Salus  tua 
ego  sum. — Aug\ustine\  in  Ps.  cxxxii. 


THK  soul's  conflict.  269 

which  may  be  acceptable  and  well  pleasing  to  him ;  and,  therefore,  this  is 
prefixed  as  a  ground  before  the  commandments,  enforcing  obedience.  *  I 
am  the  Lord  thy  God,'  therefore  '  thou  shalt  have  no  other  gods  before  me,' 
Exod.  XX.  3,  whomsoever  else  we  obey,  it  must  be  in  the  Lord,  because  we 
see  a  beam  of  God's  authority  in  them  ;  and  it  is  no  prejudice  to  any  infe- 
rior authority,  to  prefer  God's  authority  before  it,  in  case  of  difference  one 
from  the  other.    Neminifit  injuria  cui  praponitur  Deus. 

When  we  know  we  are  a  peculiar  people,  we  cannot  but  be  '  zealous  of 
good  works,'  Tit.  ii.  14.  '  If  I  be  a  Father,  where  is  mine  honour  ? '  Mai. 
i.  6.     Special  relations  are  special  enforcements  to  duty. 

4.  The  Spirit  of  God,  which  knows  the  deep  things  of  God  and  the  depths 
of  our  hearts,  doth  reveal  this  mutual  interest  betwixt  God  and  those  that 
are  his,  it  being  a  principal  work  of  the  Spirit  to  seal  this  unto  the  soul,  by 
discovering  such  a  clear  and  particular  light  in  the  use  of  means,  as  swayeth 
the  soul  to  yield  up  itself  wholly  to  God.  When  we  truly  trust,  we  may 
say  with  St  Paul,  '  I  know  whom  I  have  trusted,'  2  Tim.  i.  12  ;  he  knew 
both  that  he  trusted,  and  whom  he  trusted.  The  Spirit  of  God,  that  reveals 
God  to  be  ours,  and  stirs  up  faith  in  him,  both  reveals  this  trust  to  our 
souls,  and  the  interest  we  have  in  God  thereby.  '  The  Lord  is  my  portion, 
saith  my  soul,'  Lam.  iii.  24 ;  but  God  said  so  to  it  fii'st.  If  instinct  of 
nature  teaches  dams  to  know  their  young  ones,  and  their  young  ones  them, 
in  the  midst  of  those  that  are  alike,  shall  not  the  Spuit  of  God  much  more 
teach  the  soul  to  know  its  own  father  ?  As  none  knows  what  is  ia  man,  but 
the  spirit  of  man,  so  none  knows  what  love  God  bears  to  those  that  are  his, 
but  the  Spiiit  of  God  in  his.  All  the  light  in  the  world  cannot  discover  the 
sun  unto  us,  only  it  discovers  itself  by  its  own  beams.  So  all  the  angels 
and  saints  in  heaven  cannot  discovM-  to  our  souls  the  love  that  is  ia  the 
breast  of  God  towards  us,  but  only  the  Spirit  of  God,  which '  sheds  it  into  our 
hearts,'  Eom.  v.  5.  The  Spirit  only  teaches  this  language,  My  God.  It  is 
infused  only  into  sanctified  hearts  ;  and,  therefore,  ofttimes  mean  men  enjoy 
it,  when  great,  wise,  and  learned  persons  are  strangers  to  it.  Mat.  xi.  25. 

5.  The  Spirit  when  it  witnesseth  this  to  us  is  called  *  the  Spirit  of  adop- 
tion,' Eom.  viii.  15,  and  hath  always  accompanying  of  it  a  spirit  of  suppU- 
cation,  whereby  with  a  familiar,  yet  reverend  *  boldness,  we  lay  open  our 
hearts  to  God  as  a  dear  father.  All  others  are  strangers  to  this  heavenly 
intercourse.  In  straits  they  run  to  their  friends  and  carnal  shifts,  whereas 
an  heir  of  heaven  runs  to  his  Father,  and  tells  him  of  all. 

6.  Those  that  are  God's,  are  known  to  be  his  by  special  love-tokens  that 
he  bestows  upon  them,  as, 

(1.)  The  special  gi-aces  of  his  Spirit.  Princes'  children  are  known  by 
their  costly  jewels,  and  rich  ornaments.  It  is  not  common  gifts,  and  glo- 
rious parts  that  set  a  character  upon  us  to  be  God's,  but  grace  to  use  those 
gifts,  in  humility  and  love,  to  the  glory  of  the  giver. 

(2.)  There  is  in  them  a  suitableness  and  connaturalness  of  heart  to  all 
that  is  spiritual,  to  whatsover  hath  God's  stamp  upon  it,  as  his  truth  and 
his  childi'en,  and  that  because  they  are  his.  By  this  likeness  of  disposition, 
we  are  fashioned  to  a  communion  with  him.  Can  two  walk  together  and 
not  be  agi'eed  ?  It  is  a  certain  evidence  that  we  are  God's  in  Christ,  if  the 
Spirit  of  God  hath  wrought  in  us  any  impression  Uke  unto  Christ,  who  is 
the  image  of  his  Father.  Both  Chi-ist  looking  upon  us,  and  our  looking 
upon  Chi'ist  by  faith,  as  ours,  hath  a  transforming  and  conforming  power. 

(3.)  Spiritual  comforts  in  distress,  such  as  the  world  can  neither  give, 
*  That  is, '  reverent.' — En. 


; 


270  THE  soul's  conflict. 

nor  take  away,  shew  tliat  God  looks  upon  the  soulis  of  his  with  another  eye, 
than  he  beholdeth  others.  He  sends  a  secret  messenger  that  reports  his 
peculiar  love  to  their  hearts.  He  knows  their  souls,  and  feeds  them  with 
his  *  hidden  manna,''  Rev.  ii.  17.  The  inward  peace  they  feel  is  not  in  free- 
dom from  trouble,  but  in  freeness  with  Grod  in  the  midst  of  trouble. 

(4.)  Seasonable  and  sanctified  corrections,  whereby  we  are  kept  from 
being  led  away  by  the  error  of  the  wicked,  shew  God's  fatherly  care  over  us 
as  his.  Who  will  trouble  himself  in  correcting  another  man's  child  ?  yet 
we  oftener  complain  of  the  smart  we  feel,  than  think  of  the  tender  heart  and 
hand  that  smites  us,  until  our  spirits  be  subdued ;  and  then  we  reap  the 
quiet  fruit  of  righteousness.  Where  crosses  work  together  for  the  best,  we 
may  know  that  we  love  God,  Rom.  viii.  28,  and  are  loved  of  him.  Thriv- 
ing in  a  sinful  course  is  a  black  mark  of  one  that  is  not  God's. 

7.  Then  we  make  it  appear  that  God  is  our  God,  when  we  side  with  him, 
and  are  for  him  and  his  cause  in  ill  times.  When  God  seems  to  cry  out 
unto  us,  '  Who  is  on  my  side,  who  ? '  2  Kings  ix.  32 ;  then  if  we  can  say 
as  those  in  Isaiah,  whereof  one|  says,  *  I  am  the  Lord's,  and  another  calls 
himself  by  the  name  of  Jacob,  and  another  subscribes  with  his  hand 
unto  the  Lord,'  Isa.  xliv.  6,  it  is  a  blessed  sign.  Thus  the  patriarchs  and 
prophets,  apostles  and  martyrs,  were  not  ashamed  of  God,  and  God  was  not 
ashamed  to  own  them.  Provided  that  this  boldness  from  God  proceed  not 
only  from  a  conviction  of  the  judgment,  but  from  spiritual  experience  of  the 
goodness  of  the  cause,  whereby  we  can  justify  in  heart  what  we  justify  in 
words.  Otherwise  men  may  contend  for  that  with  others,  which  they  have 
no  interest  in  themselves.  The  life  must  witness  for  God  as  well  as  the 
tongue.  It  is  oft  easier  for  corrupt  nature  to  part  with  life  rather  than 
with  lust. 

This  siding  with  God,  is  with  a  separation  from  whatsoever  is  contrary. 
God  useth  this  as  an  argument  to  come  out  of  Babylon,  because  we  are  his 
people  :  '  Come  out  of  her,  my  people,'  Rev.  xviii.  4.  Religion  is  nothing 
else  but  a  gathering  and  a  binding  of  the  soul  close  to  God.  That  fire 
which  gathers  together  the  gold,  separates  the  dross.  Nature  draws  out 
that  which  is  wholesome  in  meats,  and  severs  the  contrary.  The  good  that 
is  to  be  had  by  God,  is  by  cleaving  to  him,  and  him  only.  God  loves  an 
ingenuous  and  fall  protestation,  if  called  to  it.  It  shews  the  coldness  of 
the  times  when  there  is  not  heat  enough  of  zeal  to  separate  from  a  contrary 
faith.  God  is  a  jealous  God,  and  so  we  shall  find  him  at  last.  When  the 
day  of  severing  comes,  then  they  that  have  stood  for  him,  shall  not  only  be 
his,  but  his  treasure,  and  his  jewels,  Mai.  iii.  17. 

There  is  none  of  us  all  but  may  some  time  or  other  fall  into  such  a  great 
extremity,  that  when  we  look  about  us,  we  shall  find  none  to  help  us  :  at 
which  time  we  shall  throughly  know,  what  it  is  to  have  comfort  from 
heaven,  and  a  God  to  go  unto.  If  there  be  anything  in  the  world  worth 
labouring  for,  it  is  the  getting  sound  evidence  to  our  souls  that  God  is  ours. 
What  madness  is  it  to  spend  all  our  labour  to  possess  ourselves  of  the 
cistern,  when  the  fountain  is  offered  to  us  ?  0  beloved,  the  whole  world 
cannot  weigh  against  this  one  comfort,  that  God  is  ours.  All  things  laid 
in  the  other  balance,  would  be  too  light.  A  moth  may  corrupt,  a  thief 
may  take  away  that  we  have  here,  but  who  can  take  our  God  away? 
Though  God  doth  convey  some  comfort  to  us  by  these  things,  yet  when 
they  are  gone,  he  reserves  the  comfort  in  himself  still,  and  can  convey  that, 
and  more,  in  a  purer  and  sweeter  way,  where  he  plants  the  grace  of  faith 
to  fetch  it  from  him.     Why  then  should  we  weaken  our  interest  in  God,  for 


THE  soul's  conflict.  271 

any  thing  this  earth  affords  ?  What  unworthy  wretches  are  those,  that  to 
please  a  sinful  man,  or  to  feed  a  base  lust,  or  to  yield  to  a  wicked  custom 
will,  as  much  as  in  them  lieth,  lose  their  interest  in  God  ?  Such,  little 
consider  what  an  excellent  privilege  it  is  to  have  a  sure  refuge  to  fly  unto 
in  time  of  trouble.  God  wants  not  ways  to  maintain  his,  without  being 
beholden  to  the  devil.  He  hath  all  help  hid  in  himself,  and  will  then  most 
shew  it,  when  it  shall  make  most  for  his  own  glory.  If  God  be  ours,  it  is 
a  shame  to  be  beholden  to  the  devil,  that  ever  it  should  be  said,  Satan  by 
base  courses  hath  made  us  rich.  God  thinks  any  outward  thing  too  mean 
for  his  children,  severed  from  himself,  therefore  he  gives  his  Son,  the  express 
image  of  himself,  2  Cor.  iv.  4,  unto  them.  For  which  cause  David,  when 
he  had  even  studied  to  reckon  up  the  number  of  God's  choice  blessings, 
concludes  with  advancing  of  this  above  all,  *  yea  rather  happy  are  they 
whose  God  is  the  Lord,'  Ps.  xliv.  15.  If  this  will  not  satisfy  the  soul,  what 
can  ?  Labour  therefore  to  bring  thy  soul  to  this  point  with  God,  '  Lord, 
if  thou  seest  it  fit,  take  away  all  from  me,  so  thou  leavest  me  thyself :  whom 
have  I  in  heaven  but  thee,  and  there  is  none  on  earth  that  I  desire  in  com- 
parison of  thee  ?'  Ps.  Ixxiii.  25. 

Chapter  XXXII. — Of  improving  our  evidences  for  comfort  in  several 
passages  of  our  lives. 

That  we  lose  not  any  measure  of  comfort  in  this  so  sweet  a  privilege,  we 
must  labour  for  skill  to  improve  and  implead  the  same  in  the  several  pas- 
sages and  occasions  of  our  lives,  and  let  it  appear  in  the  retail,  that  what- 
soever is  in  God  is  mine.  If  I  am  in  a  perplexed  condition,  his  wisdom  is 
mine  ;  if  in  great  danger,  his  power  is  mine  ;  if  I  lie  sighing  under  the  bur- 
den of  sin,  his  grace  is  mine  ;  if  in  any  want,  his  all-sufficiency  is  mine. 
'  My  God,'  saith  St  Paul,  '  will  supply  all  your  wants,'  Phihp.  iv.  19.  If 
in  any  danger,  I  am  thine.  Lord,  save  me,  I  am  thine,  the  price  of  thy 
Son's  blood ;  let  me  not  be  lost,  thou  hast  given  me  the  earnest  of  thy 
Spirit,  and  set  thy  seal  upon  me  for  thy  own,  let  me  neither  lose  my  bargain 
nor  thou  thine.  What  is  religion  itself  but  a  spiritual  bond  ?  whereby  the 
soul  is  tied  to  God  as  its  own,  and  then  singles  out  of  God  whatsoever  is 
needful  for  any  occasion :  and  so  binds  God  with  his  own  covenant  and 
promise.  Lord,  thou  hast  made  thyself  to  be  mine,  therefore  now  shew 
thyself  so,  and  be  exalted  in  thy  wisdom,  goodness,  and  power,  for  my  de- 
fence. To  walk  comfortably  in  my  Christian  course,  I  need  much  grace, 
supply  me  out  of  thy  rich  store.  I  need  wisdom  to  go  in  and  out  inoffen- 
sively before  others,  furnish  me  with  thy  Spirit.  I  need  patience  and  com- 
fort, thou  that  art  the  God  of  all  consolation,  bestow  it  on  me. 

In  time  of  desertion  put  Christ  betwixt  God  and  thy  soul,  and  learn  to 
appeal,  from  God  out  of  Christ,  to  God  in  Christ.  Lord,  look  upon  my 
Saviour,  that  is  near  unto  thee  as  thy  son,  near  to  me  as  my  brother,  and 
now  intercedes  at  thy  right  hand  for  me.  Though  I  have  sinned,  yet  he 
hath  suffered,  and  shed  his  precious  blood  to  make  my  peace.  When  we 
are  in  any  trouble,  let  us  still  wait  on  him,  and  he  at  his  feet,  and  never 
let  him  go  tUl  he  casts  a  gracious  look  upon  us. 

So  if  we  be  to  deal  with  God,  for  the  church  abroad,  we  may  allege  unto 
him  that  whatsoever  provocations  are  therein,  and  deformity  in  regard  of 
abuses  and  scandals ;  yet  it  is  his  church,  his  people,  his  inheritance,  his 
name  is  called  upon,  in  it,  and  the  enemies  of  it  are  his  enemies.  God  hath 
engaged  himseK  to  the  Mends  of  the  church,  that  '  they  shall  prosper  that 


272  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

love  it,'  Ps.  cxxii.  6  ;  and  therefore  we  may  with  a  holy  boldness  press  him 
for  a  blessing  upon  the  same. 

So  for  our  children  and  posterity,  we  may  incline  God  to  respect  them, 
because  they  are  under  his  covenant,  who  hath  promised  to  be  our  God,  and 
the  God  of  our  seed.  '  Thine  they  were,  thou  gavest  them  me  :  aU  that  I 
have  is  thine  ;  these  are  those  children  which  thou  of  thy  rich  grace  hast 
given  me.  They  are  thine  more  than  mine  ;  I  am  but  a  means  under  thee 
to  bring  them  into  the  world,  and  to  be  a  nurse  unto  thy  children ;  take  care 
therefore  of  thine  own  children,  I  beseech  thee,  especially,  when  I  can  take  no 
care  of  them  myself;  thou  slumberest  not,  thou  diest  not,  I  must,'  John  xvii. 

Flesh  and  blood  think  nothing  is  cared  for,  but  what  it  seeth  cared  for 
by  itself.  It  hath  no  eyes  to  see  a  guard  of  providence,  a  guard  of  angels. 
It  takes  no  knowledge  that  that  is  best  cared  for,  that  God  cares  for. 
Those  that  have  God  for  their  God,  have  enlarged  hearts  as  they  have 
enlarged  comforts.  They  have  an  everlasting  spring  that  supplies  them  in 
all  wants,  refreshes  them  in  all  troubles,  and  then  runs  most  clearly  and 
freshly,  when  all  other  streams  in  the  world  are  dried  and  stopped  up. 
Were  we  skilful  in  the  art  of  faith,  to  improve  so  great  an  interest,  what  in 
the  world  could  much  dismay  us  ?     Faith  will  set  God  against  all. 

It  should  fill  our  hearts  with  an  holy  indignation  against  ourselves,  if 
either  we  rest  in  a  condition  wherein  we  cannot  truly  say,  God  is  our  God, 
or  if,  when  we  can  in  some  sincerity  of  heart  say  this,  that  we  make  no 
better  advantage  thereby,  and  maintain  not  ourselves  answerable  to  such  a 
condition.  What  a  shame  is  it  for  a  nobleman's  son  to  live  like  a  beggar ! 
for  a  great  rich  man  to  live  like  a  poor  peasant ;  to  famish  at  a  banquet ; 
to  fall  when  we  have  so  many  stays  to  lay  hold  on  !  Whereas  if  we  could 
make  this  clear  to  our  souls,  that  God  is  ours,  and  then  take  up  our 
thoughts  with  the  great  riches  we  have  in  him,  laid  open  in  Christ,  and  in 
the  promises,  we  need  trouble  ourselves  about  nothing,  but  only  get  a  large 
vessel  of  faith,  to  receive  what  is  ofiered,  nay,  enforced  upon  us. 

When  we  can  say,  God  is  our  God,  it  is  more  than  if  we  could  say, 
heaven  is  mine  ;  or  whatever  good  the  creature  affords  is  mine.  Alas  I 
what  is  all  this,  to  be  able  to  say,  God  is  mine,  who  hath  in  him  the  sweet- 
ness of  aU  these  things,  and  infinitely  more  ?  If  God  be  ours,  goodness 
itself  is  ours.  If  he  be  not  ours,  though  we  had  all  things  else,  yet  ere 
long  nothing  would  be  ours.  What  a  wondrous  comfort  is  this,  that  God 
hath  put  himself  over  to  be  ours  !  that  a  believing  soul  may  say  with  as 
great  confidence,  and  greater  too,  that  God  is  his,  than  he  can  say  his 
house  is  his,  his  treasure  is  his,  his  friends  are  his  !  Nothing  is  so  much 
ours  as  God  is  ours,  because  by  his  being  ours  in  covenant,  all  other  things 
become  ours  ;  and  if  God  be  once  ours,  weU  may  we  trust  in  him.  God 
and  ours  joined  together  make  up  the  fall  comfort  of  a  Christian.  God  ! 
there  is  all  to  be  had ;  but  what  is  that  to  me  unless  he  be  my  God  ?  AU- 
sufiiciency  with  propriety  *  fully  stayeth  the  soul. 

David  was  now  banished  from  the  sanctuary,  from  his  friends,  habitation, 
and  former  comforts ;  but  was  he  banished  from  his  God  ?  No ;  God  was  his 
God  still.  When  riches,  and  friends,  and  hfe  itself  cease  to  be  ours,  yet 
God  never  looseth  his  right  in  us,  nor  we  our  interest  in  him.  This  com- 
fort that  God  is  ours,  reacheth  unto  the  resurrection  of  our  bodies  and  to 
life  everlasting.  God  is  the  God  of  Abraham,  and  so  of  every  true  believer, 
even  when  his  body  is  turned  into  dust.  Hence  it  is  that  '  the  lovingkind- 
ness  of  the  Lord  is  better  than  life,'  Ps.  Ixiii.  3,  because  when  life  departs, 
*  That  is,  '  property,  possession.' — G. 


THE  soul's  conflict.  278 

yet  we  live  for  ever  in  liim.  When  Moses  saw  the  people  drop  away  so 
fast  in  the  wilderness,  and  wither  like  grass,  '  Thou  art  our  foundation,' 
saith  he,  '  from  one  generation  to  another ;  thou  art  God  from  everlasting 
to  everlasting,'  Ps.  xc.  2.  When  we  leave  the  world,  and  are  no  more 
seen  here,  yet  we  have  a  dwelling-place  in  God  for  ever.  God  is  ours  from 
everlasting  in  election,  and  to  everlasting  in  glorj^,  protecting  us  here  and 
glorifying  us  hereafter.  David,  that  claimed  God  to  be  his  God,  is  gone, 
but  David's  God  is  alive.  And  David  himself,  '  though  his  flesh  see  cor- 
ruption,' Acts  ii.  27,  yet  is  alive  in  his  God  still. 

That  which  is  said  of  wily  persons  that  are  fall  of  fetches  *  and  wind- 
ings, and  turnings  in  the  world,  that  such  will  never  break,  may  much  more 
truly  be  said  of  a  right  godly  man,  that  hath  but  one  gi'and  policy  to  secure 
him  in  all  dangers,  which  is  to  run  to  his  God  as  to  his  tower  of  ofience 
and  defence  ;  such  a  one  will  never  be  at  a  desperate  loss  so  long  as  God 
hath  any  credit,  because  he  never  faileth  those  that  fly  unto  him ;  and  that 
because  his  mercy  and  truth  never  fails.  The  very  lame  and  the  blind,  the 
most  shiftless  f  creatures,  when  they  had  gotten  the  strong  hold  of  Zion, 
thought  then  they  might  securely '  scorn  David  and  his  host,'  2  Sam.  v.  6, 7, 
because  though  they  were  weak  in  themselves,  yet  their  hold  vras  strong ; 
but  we  see  their  hold  failed  them  at  length,  which  a  Christian's  will  never  do. 

Obj.  But  God  seems  to  have  small  care  of  those  that  are  his  in  the  world ; 
those  who  beHeve  themselves  to  be  his  jewels,  are  counted  the  ofiscouring 
of  the  world,  and  most  despised. 

Ans.  We  must  know  that  such  have  a  glorious  life  in  God,  but  it  is 
*  hidden  with  Christ  in  God,'  Col.  iii.  3,  from  the  eyes  of  the  world,  and 
sometimes  from  their  own.  Here  they  are  hidden  under  infii-mities, 
afliictions,  and  disgraces,  but  yet  never  so  hidden  but  that  God  sometimes 
lets  down  a  beam  of  comfort  and  strength,  which  they  would  not  lose,  to  be 
freed  from  their  present  condition,  though  never  so  grievous.  God  comes 
more  immediately  to  them  now  than  formerly  he  was  used ;  nay,  even 
when  God  seems  to  forsake  them  and  to  be  their  enemy,  yet  they  are  sup- 
ported with  such  inward  strength  that  they  are  able  to  make  good  their 
claim  with  Christ  their  head,  and  cry  '  My  God '  stUl.  God  never  so  de- 
parts but  he  always  leaves  somewhat  behind  him  which  draws  and  keeps 
the  heart  to  him.  We  are  like  poor  Hagar,  who,  when  the  bottle  of  water 
was  spent,  fell  a  crying,  Gen.  xxi.  17,  when  there  was  a  fountain  close  by, 
but  her  tears  hindered  her  from  seeing  it.  When  things  go  ill  with  us  in 
our  trades  and  callings,  and  all  is  spent,  then  our  spirits  droop,  and  we 
are  at  our  wits'  end,  as  if  God  were  not  where  he  was.  Oh,  consider,  if 
we  had  all  and  had  not  God,  we  had  nothing.  If  we  have  nothing,  and 
have  God,  we  have  enough,  for  we  have  him  that  hath  all,  and  more  than 
all,  at  his  command.  If  we  had  all  other  comforts  that  om-  hearts  can  de- 
sire, yet  if  God  withdraw  himself,  what  remains  but  a  curse  and  emptiness? 
What  makes  heaven  but  the  presence  of  God  ?  and  what  makes  hell  but  the 
absence  of  God  7  Let  God  be  in  any  condition,  though  never  so  ill,  yet 
it  is  comfortable  ;  and  usually  we  find  more  of  God  in  trouble  than  when 
we  are  out  of  trouble.  The  comforts  of  religion  never  come  tUl  others  fail. 
Cordials  are  kept  for  faintings.  When  a  curtain  and  a  veil  is  di-awn  be- 
twixt us  and  the  creature,  then  our  eyes  are  only  upward  to  God,  and  he 
is  more  clearly  seen  of  us. 

In  the  division  of  things,  God  bequeaths  himself  to  those  that  are  his  for 
their  portion  as  the  best  portion  he  can  give  them.  There  are  many  goodly 
*  That  is,  '  artitices.' — G  t  That  is,  '  without  expedients.' — Q. 

VOL.  I.  S 


274  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

things  in  the  world,  hut  none  of  these  are  a  Christian's  portion.  There 
is  in  him  to  supply  all  good  and  remove  all  ill,  until  the  time  come  that  we 
■  stand  in  need  of  no  other  good.  It  is  our  chief  wisdom  to  know  him,  our 
holiness  to  love  him,  our  happiness  to  enjoy  him.  There  is  in  him  to  he 
had  whatsoever  can  truly  make  us  happy.  We  go  to  our  treasure  and  our 
portion  in  all  our  wants ;  we  live  by  it  and  value  ourselves  by  it.  God  is  such 
a  portion,  that  the  more  we  spend  on  him  the  more  we  may.  '  Our  strength 
may  fail,  and  our  heart  may  fail,  but  God  is  our  portion  for  ever,'  Ps. 
Ixxiii.  26.  Everything  else  teaches  us,  by  the  vanity  and  vexation  we  find 
in  them,  that  our  happiness  is  not  in  them.  They  send  us  to  God ;  they 
may  make  us  worse,  but  better  they  cannot.  Our  nature  is  above  them, 
and  ordained  for  a  greater  good  ;  they  can  go  but  along  with  us  for  a  while, 
and  their  end  swallows  up  all  the  comfort  of  their  beginning,  as  Pharaoh's 
lean  kine  swallowed  up  the  fat.  Gen.  xli.  20.  If  we  have  no  better  portion 
here  than  these  things,  we  are  like  to  have  hell  for  our  portion  hereafter. 
What  a  shame  will  it  be  hereafter,  when  we  are  stript  of  all,  that  it  should 
be  said,  Lo,  this  is  the  man  that  took  not  God  for  his  portion.  If  God  be 
once  ours,  he  goes  for  ever  along  with  us,  and  when  earth  will  hold  us  no 
longer,  heaven  shall.  Who  that  hath  his  senses  about  him  would  perish  for 
want  of  water  when  there  is  a  fountain  by  him  ?  or  for  hunger,  that  is  at  a 
feast  ?  God  alone  is  a  rich  portion.  0,  then,  let  us  labour  for  a  large 
faith,  as  we  have  a  large  object.  If  we  had  a  thousand  times  more  faith, 
we  should  have  a  thousand  times  more  increase  of  God's  blessings.  When 
the  prophet  came  to  the  widow's  house,  as  many  vessels  as  she  had  were 
filled  with  oil,  1  Ivings  xvii.  14.  We  are  straitened  in  our  own  faith,  but 
not  straitened  in  our  God.  It  falls  out  oft  in  this  world  that  God's  people 
are  like  Israel  at  the  Ked  Sea,  environed  with  dangers  on  all  sides.  What 
course  have  we,  then,  to  take,  but  only  to  look  up  and  wait  for  the  salva- 
tion of  our  God  ?  This  is  a  breast  full  of  consolation ;  let  us  teach  our 
hearts  to  suck  and  draw  comfort  from  hence. 

Is  God  our  God,  and  will  he  suffer  anything  to  befall  us  for  our  hurt  ? 
Will  he  lay  any  more  upon  us  than  he  gives  us  strength  to  bear  ?  Will  he 
suffer  any  wind  to  blow  upon  us  but  for  good  ?  Doth  he  not  set  us  before 
his  face  ?  Will  a  father  or  mother  suffer  a  child  to  be  wronged  in  their 
presence  if  they  can  help  it  ?  Will  a  friend  suffer  his  friend  to  be  injured 
if  he  may  redress  him  ?  And  will, God,  that  hath  put  these  affections  into 
parents  and  friends,  neglect  the  care  of  those  he  hath  taken  so  near  unto 
himself?  No,  surely.  His  eyes  are  open  to  look  upon  their  condition; 
his  ears  are  open  to  then.'  prayers  ;  a  '  book  of  remembrance,'  Mai.  iii.  16, 
is  written  of  all  their  good  desires,  speeches,  and  actions ;  he  hath  bottles 
for  all  their  tears,  Ps.  Ivi.  8 ;  their  very  sighs  are  not  hid  from  him,  Ps.  Ixxix. 
11 ;  he  hath  written  them  upon  the  '  palms  of  his  hands,'  Isa.  xlvi.  16,  and 
cannot  but  continually  look  upon  them.  Oh,  let  us  prize  the  favour  of  so 
good  a  God,  who,  though  he  dwells  on  high,  yet  will  regard  things  so  low, 
and  not  neglect  the  mean  estate  of  any;  nay,  especially  delights  to  be 
called  the  '  comforter  of  his  elect,'  John  xiv.  16,  and  the  God  of  those  that 
are  in  misery,  and  have  none  to  fly  unto  but  himself. 

But  we  must  know  that  God  only  thus  graciously  visits  his  own  children ; 
he  visits  with  his  choicest  favours  those  only  that  fear  his  name,  Ps.  xxv. 
14.  As  for  those  that  either  secretly  undennine  or  openly  oppose  the 
cause  and  chm-ch  of  God  and  join  with  his  enemies,  such  as  savour  not 
the  things  of  God,  but  commit  spiritual  idolatry  and  adultery  with  God's 
enemies,  the  world  and  the  devil,  God  will  answer  these  as  once  he  did  the 


THE  soul's  conflict.  275 

Israelites,  when  in  their  necessity  they  would  have  forced  acquaintance  upon 
him,  '  Go  to  the  gods  whom  ye  have  served,'  Judges  x.  14,  to  the  great  men 
whose  persons  you  have  obeyed  for  advantage,  to  your  riches,  to  your  plea- 
sures, which  you  have  loved  more  than  God  or  goodness.  You  would  not 
lose  a  base  custom,  an  oath,  a  superfluity,  a  thing  of  nothing,  for  me; 
therefore,  I  will  not  own  you  now.  Such  men  are  more  impudent  than  the 
devil  himself,  that  wiU  claim  acquaintance  with  God  at  last  when  they  have 
carried  themselves  as  his  enemies  all  their  days.  Satan  could  tell  Paul 
and  Silas  they  were  '  the  servants  of  the  living  God,'  Acts  xvi.  17,  but  he 
would  not  make  that  plea  for  himself,  knowing  that  he  was  a  cursed  creature. 

Miserable,  then,  is  their  condition  who  live  in  the  world,  nay,  in  the 
church,  without  God,  Eph.  ii.  12.  Such  are  in  a  worse  estate  than  pagans 
and  Jews ;  for,  living  in  the  house  of  God,  they  are  strangers  from  God 
and  from  the  covenant  of  grace ;  usurping  the  name  of  Christians,  having, 
indeed,  nothing  to  do  with  Christ. 

Some  of  these,  like  spiritual  vagabonds,  as  Cain,  excommunicate  them- 
selves from  God's  presence  in  the  use  of  the  means,  or  rather  like  devils,  that 
will  have  nothing  to  do  with  God,  because  they  are  loath  to  be  tormented 
before  their  time.  They  think  every  good  sermon  an  arraigning  of  them, 
and  therefore  keep  out  of  reach. 

Others  wiU  present  themselves  under  the  means,  and  carry  some  savour 
away  with  them  of  what  they  hear,  but  it  is  only  till  they  meet  with  the 
next  temptation,  unto  which  they  yield  themselves  presently  slaves.  These 
shewed  themselves  under  a  general  profession,  as  they  did,  who  called 
themselves  Jews  and  were  nothing  less.  But,  alas!  an  empty  title  will 
bring  an  empty  comfort  at  last.  It  was  cold  comfort  to  the  rich  man  in 
flames,  Luke  xvi.  25,  that  Abraham  called  him  son;  or  to  Judas,  that  Christ 
called  him  friend.  Mat.  xxvi.  50 ;  or  to  the  rebellious  Jews,  that  God  styles 
them  his  people,  Isa.  1.  2.  Such  as  our  profession  is,  such  will  our  comfort 
be.  Ti-ue  profession  of  religion  is  another  thing  than  most  men  take  it  to 
be.  It  is  made  up  of  the  outward  duty,  and  the  inward  man  too,  which  is, 
indeed,  the  life  and  soul  of  all.  What  the  heart  doth  not  in  religion  is  not 
done.     Quod  cor  non  facit  non  fit. 

God  cares  for  no  retainers  that  will  only  wear  his  livery,  but  serve  themselves. 
*  What  hast  thou  to  do  to  take  his  name  into  thy  mouth,  and  hatest  to  be 
reformed?  Ps.  1.  16.  Saul  lived  in  the  bosom  of  the  church,  yet,  being  a 
cruel  tyrant,  when  he  was  in  a  desperate  plunge,  his  outward  profession  did 
him  no  good;  and,  therefore,  when  he  was  environed  with  his  enemies  he 
uttered  this  doleful  complaint,  '  God  hath  forsaken  me,  and  the  Philistines 
are  upon  me,'  1  Sam.  xxviii.  15.  A  pitiful  case!  Yet  so  will  it  be  with 
all  those  that  rest  in  an  outward  profession,  thinking  it  enough  to  compli- 
ment *  with  God  when  their  hearts  are  not  right  within  them.  Such  will 
at  length  be  forced  to  cry,  sickness  is  upon  me,  death  is  upon  me,  hell  is 
before  me,  and  God  hath  forsaken  me.  I  would  have  none  of  God  hereto- 
fore, now  God  will  have  none  of  me.  When  David  himself  had  offended 
God  by  numbering  the  people,  then  God  counted  him  but  plain  David, 
'  Go  and  say  to  David,'  &c.,  2  Sam.  xxiv.  12;  whereas  before,  when  he 
purposed  to  build  a  temple,  then,  '  Go,  tell  my  servant  David,'  2  Sam. 
vii.  5.  When  the  IsraeUtes  had  set  up  an  idol,  then  God  fathers  them  on 
Moses,  '  Thij  people  which  thou  hast  brought  out  of  Egypt.'  He  would 
not  own  them  as  at  other  times  then.  They  are  my  people  stiU  whilst 
they  keep  covenant.  No  care,  no  present  comfort,  in  this  near  relation. 
*  That  is,  '  to  pretend  compliance.' — G. 


276  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

The  price  of  tlie  pearl  is  not  known  till  all  else  be  sold,  and  we  see  the 
necessary  use  of  it.  So  the  worth  of  God  in  Christ  is  never  discerned  till 
we  see  our  lost  and  undone  condition  without  him,  till  conscience  flies  in 
our  faces,  and  drags  us  to  the  brink  of  hell ;  then,  if  ever  we  taste  how 
good  the  Lord  is,  we  will  say,  '  Blessed  is  the  people  whose  God  is  the 
Lord.'  Heretofore  I  have  heard  of  his  lovingkindness,  but  that  is  not  a 
thousandth  part  of  what  I  see  and  feel.  The  joy  I  now  apprehend  is  un- 
utterable, unconceivable. 

Oh  then,  when  we  have  gotten  our  souls  possessed  of  God,  let  our  study 
be  to  preserve  ourselves  in  his  love,  to  walk  close  with  him,  that  he  may 
delight  to  abide  with  us  and  never  forsake  us !  How  basely  doth  the 
Scripture  speak  of  whatsoever  stands  in  our  way !  It  makes  nothing  of 
them.  What  is  man  but  vanity,  and  less  than  vanity !  All  nations  but 
as  '  a  drop  of  the  bucket,'  as  the  '  dust  of  the  balance,'  Isa.  xl.  15,  things 
not  at  all  considerable.  Flesh  looks  upon  them  as  through  a  multiplying 
glass,  making  them  greater  than  they  are ;  but  faith,  a^  God  doth,  sees 
them  as  nothing. 

This  is  such  a  blessed  condition,  as  may  well  challenge  all  our  diligence 
in  labouring  to  be  assured  of  it ;  neither  is  it  to  be  attained  or  maintained 
without  the  strength  and  prime  of  our  care.  I  speak  especially  of,  and  in 
regard  of,  the  sense  and  comfort  of  it.  For  the  sense  of  God's  favour  will 
not  be  kept  without  keeping  him  in  our  best  affections  above  all  things  in 
the  world,,  without  keeping  of  our  hearts  always  close  and  near  to  him, 
which  cannot  be,  without  keeping  a  most  narrow  watch  over  our  loose  and 
unsettled  hearts,  that  are  ready  to  stray  from  God  and  fall  to  the  creature. 
It  cannot  be  kept  without  exact  and  circumspect  walking,  without  constant 
self-denial,  wathout  a  continual  preparation  of  spii'it,  to  want  and  forsake 
anything  that  God  seeth  fit  to  take  from  us. 

But  what  of  aU  this  ?  Can  we  cross  ourselves,  or  spend  our  labours  to 
better  purpose  ?  One  sweet  beam  of  God's  countenance  will  requite  all 
this.  We  beat  not  the  air,  we  plough  not  in  the  sand,  neither  sow  in  a 
barren  soil ;  God  is  no  barren  wilderness.  Nay,  he  never  shews  so  much 
of  himself  as  in  suffering,  and  parting  with  anything  for  him,  and  denying 
ourselves  of  that  which  we  think  stands  not  with  his  will.  Great  persons 
require  great  observance.  We  can  deny  ourselves,  and  have  men's  per- 
sons in  great  admiration,  for  hope,  of  some  advantage ;  and  is  any  more 
willing  and  more  able  to  advance  us  than  the  great  all-sufficient  God  ? 
A  Christian,  indeed,  undergoes  more  troubles,  takes  more  pains,  especially 
with  his  own  heart,  than  others  do.  But  what  are  these  to  his  gains  ? 
What  return  so  rich  as  trading  with  God  ?  What  comfort  so  great  as 
these  that  are  fetched  from  the  fountain  ?  One  day  spent  in  enjoying  the 
light  of  God's  countenance  is  sweeter  than  a  thousand  without  it.  We  see 
here,  when  David  was  not  only  shut  out  from  all  comforts,  but  lay  under 
many  grievances,  what  a  fi-uitful  use  he  makes  of  this,  that  God  was  his 
God.  It  upholdeth  his  dejected,  it  stilleth  his  unquiet,  soul ;  it  leadeth 
him  to  the  rock  that  was  higher  than  he,  and  there  stayeth  him.  It  filleth 
him  with  comfortable  hopes  of  better  times  to  come.  It  sets  him  above 
himself,  and  all  troubles  and  fears  whatsoever. 

Therefore  wait  still  in  the  use  of  means  till  God  shine  upon  thee ;  yea, 

though  we  know  our  sins  in  Christ  are  pardoned,  yet  there  is  something 

more  that  a  gracious  heart  waits  for  us  ;*  that  is,  a  good  look  from  God,  a 

farther  enlargement  of  heart,  and  an  establishing  in  grace.     It  was  not 

*  Qu.  '  waits  for  ?' — Ed. 


THE  soul's  conflict.  277 

enough  for  David  to  have  his  sins  pardoned,  but  to  '  recover  the  joy  of 
salvation,'  and  '  freedom  of  spirit,'  Ps.  li.  12.  Therefore  the  soul  should 
always  be  in  a  waiting  condition,  even  until  it  be  filled  with  the  fulness  of 
God,  as  much  as  it  is  capable  of.  Neither  is  it  quiet  alone,  or  comfort 
alone,  that  the  soul  longs  after,  no,  nor  the  favour  of  God  alone,  but  a 
gracious  heart  to  walk  worthy  of  God.  It  rests  not  whilst  anything  re- 
mains that  may  breed  the  least  strangeness  betwixt  God  and  us. 

Chapter  XXXIII. — Of  experience  and  faith,  and  how  to  wait  on  God 

comfortably.     Helps  thereto. 

My  God..  These  words  further  imply  a  special  experience,  that  David's 
soul  had  felt  of  the  goodness  of  God.  He  had  found  God  distilling  the  comfort 
of  his  goodness  and  truth  through  the  promises,  and  he  knew  he  should 
find  God  again  the  same  as  he  was,  if  he  put  him  in  mind  of  his  former 
gracious  deaUng.  His  soul  knew  right  well,  how  good  God  was,  and  he 
could  seal  to  those  truths  he  had  found  comfort  by,  therefore  he  thus 
speaks  to  his  soul :  My  soul,  what,  my  soul,  that  hast  found  God  so  good, 
so  oft,  so  many  ways,  thou  my  soul  to  be  discouraged,  having  God,  and 
my  God,  with  whom  I  have  taken  so  much  sweet  counsel,  and  felt  so  much 
comfort  from,  and  found  always  heretofore  to  stick  so  close  unto  me  ! 
Why  shouldst  thou  now  be  in  such  a  case,  as  if  God  and  thou  had  been 
strangers  one  to  another?  If  we  could  treasure  up  experiments,*  the 
former  part  of  our  life  would  come  in  to  help  the  latter ;  and  the  longer  we 
live  the  richer  in  faith  we  should  be ;  even  as  in  victories,  every  former 
overthrow  of  an  enemy  helps  to  obtain  a  succeeding  victory.  The  use  of  a 
sanctified  memory  is  to  lose  nothing  that  may  help  in  time  of  need.  He 
had  need  be  a  well-tried  and  a  known  friend  upon  whom  we  lay  aU  our 
salvation  and  comfort. 

We  ought  to  trust  God  upon  other  grounds,  though  we  had  never  tried 
him ;  but  when  he  helps  our  faith  by  former  experience,  this  should 
strengthen  our  confidence,  and  shore  up  f  our  spirits,  and  put  us  on  to 
go  more  cheerfally  to  God,  as  to  a  tried  friend.  If  we  were  well  read  in 
the  story  of  our  own  lives,  we  might  have  a  divinity  of  our  own,  drawn  out 
of  the  observation  of  God's  particular  deahng  towards  us  ;  we  might  say, 
this  and  this  truth  I  dare  venture  upon,  I  have  found  it  true,  I  dare  build 
aU  my  happiness  upon  it.  As  Paul,  '  I  know  whom  I  have  trusted,'  2  Tim. 
i.  12,  I  have  tried  him,  he  never  yet  failed  me,  I  am  not  now  to  learn  how 
faithful  he  is  to  those  that  are  his.  Every  new  experience  is  a  new  know- 
ledge of  God,  and  should  fit  us  for  new  encounters.  If  we  have  been  good 
in  former  times,  God  remembers  the  '  kindness  of  our  youth,'  Jer.  ii.  2  ; 
we  should  therefore  remember  the  kindness  of  God  even  from  our  youth. 
Evidence  of  what  we  have  felt,  helps  our  faith  in  that  which  for  the  present 
we  feel  not. 

Though  it  be  one  thing  to  live  by  faith,  and  another  thing  to  live  by  sight, 
yet  the  more  W6  see,  and  feel,  and  taste  of  God,  the  more  we  shall  be  led  to 
rely  on  him,  for  that  which  as  yet  we  neither  see  nor  feel.  '  Because  thou 
hast  been  my  helper,'  saith  David,  '  therefore  in  the  shadow  of  thy  wings 
wiU  I  rejoice,'  Ps.  Ixiii.  7.  The  time  was.  Lord,  when  thou  shewedst  thy- 
seK  a  gracious  Father  to  me,  and  thou  art  unchangeable  in  thy  nature,  in 
thy  Hqva,  and  in  thy  gifts. 

,    Yea,  when  there  is  no  present  evideAce,  but  God  shews  himself  as  con- 
f  That  is,  '  experiencea.' — G.  t  That  is,  '  support.' — G. 


278  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

trary  to  us,  yet  a  former  taste  of  God's  goodness  will  enable  to  lay  claim 
imto  him  sti'U.  God's  concealing  of  himself  is  but  a  wise  discipline  for  a 
time,  until  we  be  enabled  to  bear  the  fall  revealing  of  himself  unto  us  for  ever. 
In  the  mean  time,  though  we  have  some  sight  and  feeling  in  God,  yet  our 
constant  Uving  is  not  by  it ;  the  evidence  of  that  we  see  not,  is  that  which  more 
constantly  upholds  the  soul,  than  the  evidence  of  anything  we  see  or  feel. 

Yea,  though  our  experience,  by  reason  of  our  not  minding  of  it  in  trouble, 
seems  many  times  to  stand  us  in  no  stead,  but  we  fare  as  if  God  had  never 
looked  in  mercy  upon  us  ;  yet  even  here,  some  virtue  remains  of  former 
sense,  which  with  the  present  spirit  of  faith,  helps  us  to  look  upon  God 
as  ours,  as  we  have  a  present  strength  from  food  received  and  digested 
before.  Vessels  are  something  the  better  for  that  liquor  they  keep  not, 
but  runs  through  them. 

But  if  experience  should  wholly  fail,  there  is  such  a  divine  power  in  faith,  as 
a  very  little  beam  of  it,  having  no  other  help  than  a  naked  promise,  will  uphold 
the  soul.  Howsoever,  we  must  neglect  no  help,  for  God  oft  suspends  his 
comfort  till  we  have  searched  all  our  helps.  Though  we  see  no  light,  yet 
we  ought  to  search  all  crevices  for  light,  and  rejoice  in  the  least  beam  of 
light,  that  we  may  see  day  by.  It  is  the  nature  of  true  faith  to  search  and 
pry  into  every  corner,  and  if  after  all  nothing  appears,  then  it  casts  itself 
iipon  God  as  in  the  first  conversion,  when  it  had  nothing  to  look  upon  but 
the  offer  of  free  mercy.*  If  at  that  time  without  former  experience  we  did 
trast  God,  why  not  now,  when  we  have  forgotten  our  experience  ?  The 
chief  grounds  of  trusting  God  are  always  the  same,  whether  we  feel  or  feel 
not ;  nay,  though  for  the  present  we  feel  the  contrary,  faith  will  never  leave 
wrestling  till  it  hath  gotten  a  blessing.  When  faith  is  driven  to  work  alone, 
ha\dng  nothing  but  God,  and  his  bare  promise  to  rely  upon,  then  God 
thinks  it  lies  upon  his  credit  to  shew  himself  as  a  God  unto  us.  God's 
power  in  creating  light  out  of  darkness  is  never  more  exalted,  than  when  a 
guilty  soul  is  lifted  up  by  God  to  look  for  mercy,  even  when  he  seems 
armed  with  justice,  to  execute  vengeance  upon  him ;  then  the  soul  is 
brought  to  a  near  conformity  unto  Christ,  who,  1,  when  he  had  the  guilt  of 
the  sins  of  the  whole  world  upon  him  ;  2,  when  he  was  forsaken,  and  that 
after  he  had  enjoyed  the  sweetest  communion  with  his  Father  that  ever 
creature  could  do  ;  and  not  only  so,  but,  3,  felt  the  weight  of  God's  just 
displeasure  against  sin ;  and,  4,  was  abased  lower  than  ever  any  creature 
was  ;  yet  still  he  held  fast  God  as  his  God. 

In  earthly  matters,  if  we  have  a  title  to  anything  by  gift,  contract,  in- 
heritance, or  howsoever,  we  will  not  be  wrangled  out  of  our  right.  And 
shall  we  not  maintain  our  right  in  God,  against  all  the  tricks  and  cavils  of 
Satan  and  our  own  hearts  ?  We  must  labour  to  have  something,  that  we 
may  shew  that  we  are  within  the  covenant.  If  we  be  never  so  little  en- 
tered into  the  covenant,  we  are  safe.  And  herein  Ues  the  special  comfort 
of  sincerity,  that  though  our  grace  be  little,  yet  it  is  of  the  right  stamp,  and 
shews  us,  that  we  are  servants,  and  sons,  though  unworthy  to  be  so. 
Here  a  little  truth  will  go  far.  Hence  it  is  that  the  saints  in  all  their  ex- 
tremities still  allege  something,  that  shews  that  they  are  within  the  covenant ; 
we  are  thy  children,  thy  people,  and  thy  servants,  &c.  God  is  mindful  of 
his  covenant,  but  is  well  pleased,  that  we  should  mind  him  of  it  too ;  and 
mind  it  ourselves  to  make  use  of  it,  as  David  doth  here.  He  knew  if  he 
could  bring  his  soul  to  his  God,  all  would  be  quiet. 

*  Cum  omnium  incertus  sit  eventus,  ad  ea  accedimus  de  quibus  bene  sperandum 
esse  credimus. — Senlecd]. 


THE  soul's  conflict.  279 

God  is  so  ready  to  mercy,  that  lie  deliglitetli  in  it,  and  deligliteth  in 
Christ,  through  whom  he  may  shew  mercy,  notwithstanding  his  justice,  as 
being  fully  satisfied  in  Christ.  Mercy  is  his  name  that  he  will  be  known 
by.  It  is  his  glory  which  we  behold  in  the  face  of  Christ,  who  is  nothing  bui 
grace  and  mercy  itself.  Nay,  he  pleads  reasons  for  mercy,  even  firom  the 
sinfulness  and  misery  of  his  creature,  and  maintains  his  own  mercy  against 
all  the  wrangHng  cavils  of  flesh  and  blood,  that  would  put  mercy  from  them  ; 
and  hearken  more  willingly  to  Satan's  objections,  than  God's  arguments, 
till  at  length  God  subdues  their  spirits  so  far,  as  they  become  ashamed  for 
standing  out  so  long  against  him.  How  ready  will  God  be  to  shew  mercy 
to  us  when  we  seek  it,  that  thus  presseth  upon  us,  when  we  seem  to  refuse 
it !  If  God  should  take  advantage  of  our  waywardness,  what  would  become 
of  us  ?  Satan's  course  is  to  discourage  those  that  God  would  have  encouraged, 
and  to  encourage  those  whom  God  never  speaks  peace  unto ;  and  he  thinks 
to  gain  both  ways.  Our  care  therefore  should  be,  when  we  resolve  upon 
God's  ways,  to  labour  that  no  discouragement  fasten  upon  us,  seeing  God 
and  his  word  speak  all  comfort  to  us. 

And  because  the  best  of  a  Christian  is  to  come,  we  should  raise  up  our 
spirits  to  wait  upon  God,  for  that  mercy  which  is  yet  to  come.  All  inferior 
waitings  for  good  things  here,  do  but  train  us  up  in  the  comfortable  expec- 
tation of  the  main. 

This  waiting  on  God  requires  a  great  strength  of  grace,  by  reason  not 
only,  1,  of  the  excellency  of  the  things  waited  for,  which  are  far  beyond 
anything  we  can  hope  for  in  the  world  ;  but,  2,  in  regard  of  the  long  day 
which  God  takes  before  he  performeth  his  promise  ;  and,  3,  from  thence  the 
tediousness  of  delay ;  4,  the  many  troubles  of  life  in  our  way  ;  5,  the 
great  opposition  we  meet  with  in  the  world ;  6,  and  scandals  *  ofttimes 
even  from  them  that  are  in  great  esteem  for  religion  ;  7,  together  with  the 
untowardness  of  our  nature  in  being  ready  to  be  put  off  by  the  least  dis- 
couragement. In  these  respects  there  must  be  more  than  a  human  spirit 
to  hold  up  the  soul,  and  carry  it  along  to  the  end  of  that  which  we  wait  for. 

But  if  God  be  our  God,  that  love  which  engaged  him  to  bind  himself  to 
us  in  precious  promises,  will  furnish  us  likewise  with  grace  needful,  till  we 
be  possessed  of  them.  He  wiU  give  us  leave  to  depend  upon  him  both  for 
happiness,  and  aU  sanctifying  and  quieting  graces,  which  may  support  the 
soul,  till  it  come  to  its  perfect  rest  in  God.  For  God  so  quiets  the  hearts 
of, his  children,  as  withal  he  makes  them  better  and  fitter  for  that  which  he 
provides  for  them.  Grace  and  peace  together.  Our  God  is  the  God  of 
grace  and  peace,  of  such  graces  as  breed  peace. 

1.  As  he  is  a  God  of  love,  nay,  love  itself  to  us,  so  a  taste  of  his  love, 
raising  up  om'  love,  is  better  than  wine,  full  of  nothing  but  encouragement. 
It  will  fetch  up  a  soul  from  the  deepest  discouragement.  This  grace  quick- 
en eth  all  other  graces.  It  hath  so  much  spirits  in  it  as  will  sweeten  all 
conditions.  Love  enables  to  wait,  as  Jacob  for  Leah,  seven  years.  Gen.  xxxix. 
Nothing  is  hard  to  love ;  it  carries  all  the  powers  of  the  soul  with  it. 

2.  As  he  is  a  God  nf/z/i/pf?,  g^^  V>y  t.liia  gra^^,  as  an  anchor  fastened  in 
heaven  within  the  vail,  he  stayeth  the  soul ;  that  though  as  a  ship  at 
anchor  it  may  be  tossed  and  moved,  yet  not  removed  from  its  station.  This 
hope,  as  cork,  will  keep  the  soul,  though  in  some  heaviness,  from  sinking,  and, 
as  a  helmet,  boar  off  the  blows,  that  they  endanger  not  our  life,  Eph.  vi.  17. 

3.  As  God  is  a  God  of  hope,  so  by  hope,  of  patience,  which  is  a  grace 
whereby  the  soul  resigneth  up  itself  to  Ciod  in  humble  submission  to  his 

*  That  is,  'stumbling-blocks.' — G. 


280  THE  soul's  conflict. 

will,  because  he  is  our  God,  as  David  in  extremity  comforted  himself  '  in 
the  Lord  his  God,'  Ps.  Ixxxvi.  17.  Patience  breeds  comfort,  because  it 
brings  experience  with  it  of  God's  owning  of  us  to  be  his,  Rom.  v.  4.  The 
soul,  shod  and  fenced  with  this,  is  prepared  against  all  rubs  and  thorns  in 
our  way,  so  as  we  are  kept  from  taking  offence.  All  troubles  we  suffer,  do 
but  help  patience  to  its  perfect  work,  Rom.  v.  3  ;  by  subduing  the  unbroken 
sturdiness  of  our  spirits,  when  we  feel  by  experience,  we  get  but  more 
blows,  by  standing  out  against  God. 

4.  The  Spirit  of  God,  likewise,  is  a  spirit  of  meekness,  whereby,  though 
the  soul  be  sensible  of  evil,  yet  it  moderates  such  distempers,  as  would 
otherwise  rob  a  man  of  himself ;  and  together  with  patience,  keepeth  the 
eoul  in  possession  of  itself.  It  stays  murmurings  and  frettings  against  God 
or  man.  It  sets  and  keeps  the  soul  in  tune.  It  is  that  which  God,  as  he 
works,  so  he  much  delights  in,  and  sets  a  price  upon  it,  as  the  chief  orna- 
ment of  the  soul.  The  '  meek  of  the  earth  seek  God,  and  are  hid  in  the 
day  of  his  wrath,'  Zeph.  ii.  3 ;  whereas,  high  spirits  that  compass 
themselves  with  pride  as  with  a  chain,  Ps.  Ixxiii.  6,  thinking  to  set  out 
themselves  by  that  which  is  their  shame,  are  looked  upon  by  God  afar  off. 
Meek  persons  wiU  bow  when  others  break  ;  they  are  raised  when  others 
are  plucked  down,  and  stand  when  others  that  moimt  upon  the  wings  of 
vanity,  fall,  Mat.  v.  6  ;  these  prevail  by  yielding,  and  are  lords  of  them- 
selves, and  other  things  else,  more  than  other  unquiet- spirited  men  :  the 
blessings  of  heaven  and  earth  attend  on  these. 

5.  So,  likewise,  contentedness  tvith  our  estate  is  needful  for  a  waiting  condi- 
tion, and  this  we  have  in  our  God,  being  able  to  give  the  soul  full  satisfac- 
tion. For  outward  things  God  knows  how  to  diet  us.  If  our  condition  be 
not  to  our  mind,  he  will  bring  our  mind  to  our  condition.  If  the  spirit  be 
too  big  for  the  condition,  it  is  never  quieted,  therefore  God  will  level  both. 
Those  wants  be  well  supplied,  that  are  made  up  with  contentedness,  and 
with  riches  of  a  higher  kind.  If  the  Lord  be  our  Shepherd,  we  can  want 
nothing,  Ps.  xxiii.  1.  This  lifteth  the  '  weary  hands  and  feeble  knees,' 
even  under  '  chastisement,'  Heb.  xii.  12,  wherein  though  the  soul  mourneth 
in  the  sense  of  God's  displeasure,  yet  it  rejoiceth  in  his  fatherly  care. 

6.  But  patience  and  contentment  are  too  low  a  condition  for  the  soul  to 
rest  in,  therefore  the  Spirit  of  God  raiseth  it  up  to  a  spiritual  enlargement 
oijoy.  So  much  joy,  so  much  light ;  and  so  much  light,  so  much  scatter- 
ing of  darkness  of  spirit.  We  see  in  nature  how  a  Uttle  light  wiU  prevail 
over  the  thickest  clouds  of  darkness ;  a  little  fire  wastes  a  great  deal  of  dross. 
The  knowledge  of  God  to  be  our  God,  brings  such  a  light  of  joy  into  the 
soul,  as  driveth  out  dark  uncomfortable  conceits  ;  this  light  makes  light- 
some. If  the  light  of  knowledge  alone  makes  bold,  much  more  the  light 
of  joy  arising  from  our  communion  and  interest  in  God.  How  can  we 
enjoy  God,  and  not  joy  in  him  ?  a  soul  truly  cheerful  rejoiceth  that  God 
whom  it  loveth,  should  think  it  worthy  to  endure  anything  for  him.  This 
joy  often  ariseth  to  a  spu-it  of  glory,  even  in  matter  of  outward  abasement. 
If  the  trouble  accompanied  with  disgrace  continue,  the  Spirit  of  glory  rests 
upon  us,  and  it  will  rest  so  long  until  it  make  us  more  than  conquerors, 
even  then  when  we  seem  conquered  ;  for  not  only  the  cause,  but  the  spirit 
riseth  higher,  the  more  the  enemies  labour  to  keep  it  under,  as  we  see  in 
Stephen,  Acts  vii. 

With  this  joy  goeth  a  spirit  of  courage  and  confidence.  What  can  daunt 
that  soul,  which  in  the  greatest  troubles  hath  made  the  great  God  to  be  its 
own  ?     Such  a  spirit  dares  bid  defiance  to  all  opposite  power,  setting  the 


THE  soul's  conflict.  281 

soul  above  the  world,  having  a  spirit  larger  and  higher  than  the  world,  and 
seeing  aU  but  God  beneath  it,  as  being  in  heaven  ah'eady  in  its  head.  After 
Moses  and  Micah  had  seen  God  in  his  favour  to  them,  how  little  did  they 
regard  the  angry  countenances  of  those  mighty  princes,  that  were  in  their 
times  the  terrors  of  the  world  !  The  courage  of  a  Christian  is  not  only 
against  sensible  danger,  and  of  flesh  and  blood,  but  against  principalities 
and  powers  of  darkness,  against  the  whole  kingdom  of  Satan,  the  god  of 
the  world,  whom  he  knows  shortly  shall  be  trodden  under  his  feet,  Rom. 
xvi.  20.  Satan  and  his  may  for  a  time  exercise  us,  but  they  cannot  hurt 
us.  True  believers  are  so  many  kings  and  queens,  so  many  conquerors 
over  that  which  others  are  slaves  to.  They  can  overcome  themselves  in 
revenge,  they  can  despise  those  things  that  the  world  admires,  and  see  an 
excellency  in  that  which  the  world  sets  light  by ;  they  can  set  upon  spiritual 
duties,  which  the  world  cannot  tell  how  to  go  about,  and  endm-e  that  which 
others  tremble  to  think  of,  and  that  upon  wise  reasons,  and  a  sound  founda- 
tion ;  they  can  put  off  themselves,  and  be  content  to  be  nothing,  so  their 
God  may  appear  the  greater,  and  dare  undertake  and  undergo  anything  for 
the  glory  of  their  God.  This  courage  of  Christians  among  the  heathens 
was  counted  obstinacy,  but  they  knew  not  the  power  of  the  Spirit  of  Christ  in 
his,  which  is  ever  strongest  when  they  are  weakest  in  themselves ;  they 
knew  not  the  privy  armour  of  proof  that  Christians  had  about  then*  hearts, 
and  thereupon  counted  their  courage  to  be  obstinacy. * 

Some  think  the  martyrs  were  too  prodigal  of  their  blood,  and  that  they 
might  have  been  better  advised ;  but  such  are  unacquainted  with  the  force 
of  the  love  of  God  kindled  in  the  heart  of  his  child,  which  makes  him  set 
such  a  price  upon  Christ  and  his  truth,  that  he  counts  not  '  his  life  dear 
tmto  him,'  Acts  xx.  24  ;  he  knows  he  is  not  his  own,  but  hath  given  up 
himself  to  Christ,  and  therefore  all  that  is  his,  yea,  if  he  had  more  Uves  to 
gi-^e  for  Christ,  he  should  have  them.  He  knows  he  shall  be  no  loser  by 
it.     He  knows  it  is  not  a  loss  of  his  Ufe,  but  an  exchange  for  a  better. 

"We  see  the  creatures  that  are  under  us  will  be  courageous  in  the  eye  of 
their  masters,  that  are  of  a  superior  nature  above  them ;  and  shall  not  a 
Christian  be  courageous  in  the  presence  of  his  gi"eat  Lord  and  Master,  who 
is  present  with  him,  about  him,  and  in  him  ?  Undoubtedly^  he  that  hath 
seen  God  once  in  the  face  of  Christ,  dares  look  the  gi'immest  creature  in 
the  face,  yea,  death  itself  under  any  shape.  The  fear  of  all  things  flies 
before  such  a  soul.  Only  a  Christian  is  not  ashamed  of  his  confidence. 
Why  should  not  a  Christian  be  as  bold  for  his  God,  as  others  are  for  the 
base  gods  they  make  to  themselves  ? 

7.  Besides  a  spirit  of  courage,  for  establishing  the  soul,  is  required  a 
spirit  of  constancy,  whereby  the  soul  is  steeled  and  preserved  immoveable 
in  all  conditions,  whether  present  or  to  come,  and  is  not  changed  in 
changes.  And  why  ?  but  because  the  spiiit  knows  that  God,  on  whom  it 
rests,  is  unchangeable.  We  ourselves  are  as  quicksilver,  unsettled  and 
moveable,  till  the  spirit  of  constancy  fix  us.  We  see  David  sets  out  God 
in  glorious  terms,  borrowed  from  all  that  is  strong  in  the  creature,  to  shew 
that  he  had  great  reason  to  be  constant,  and  cleaving  to  him.  '  He  is  my 
rock,  my  buckler,  the  horn  of  my  salvation,  my  strong  tower,'  &c.,  Ps.  xviii. 
God  is  a  rock  so  deep,  that  no  floods  can  undermine ;  so  high,  that  no 
waves  can  reach,  though  they  rise  never  so  high,  and  rage  never  so  much. 
When  we  stand  upon  this  rock  that  is  higher  than  we,  we  may  overlook 

*  Tertuipian]  in  Apol. — Also  Pliny  in  his  famous  letter  to  the  Emperor  Trajan. 
His  '  inflexibilis  obstinatio '  has  passed  into  a  world's  proverb. — G. 


282  THE  SOTJL  S  CONFLICT. 

all  waves,  swelling,  and  foaming,  and  breaking  themselves,  but  not  hurting 
us.  And  thereupon  may  triumphantly  conclude  with  the  apostle,  that 
. '  neither  height,  nor  depth,  shall  ever  separate  us  from  the  love  of  God,' 
Eom.  viii.  39.  Whatsoever  is  in  the  creature  he  found  in  his  God,  and 
more  abundant.  The  soul  cannot  with  an  eye  of  faith  look  upon  God  in 
Christ,  but  it  wiU  be  in  its  degree,  as  God  is,  quiet  and  constant.  The 
spirit  aimeth  at  such  a  condition  as  it  beholdeth  in  God  towards  itself. 

This  constancy  is  upheld  by  endeavouring  to  keep  a  constant  sight  of  God, 
for  want  of  which  it  oft  fares  with  us,  like  men,  that  having  a  city  or  tower  in 
their  eye,  passing  through  uneven  grounds,  hills,  and  dales,  sometimes  get  the 
sight  thereof,  sometimes  lose  it,  and  sometimes  recover  it  again,  though  the 
tower  be  still  where  it  was,  and  they  nearer  to  it  than  they  were  at  first.  So 
it  is  oft  with  our  uneven  spirits :  when  once  we  have  a  sight  of  God,  upon 
any  present  discouragement,  we  let  fall  our  spirits,  and  lose  the  sight  of  him, 
until  by  an  eye  of  faith  we  recover  it  again,  and  see  him  still  to  be  where 
he  was  at  first.  The  cherishing  of  passions  take  away  the  sight  of  God,  as 
clouds  take  away  the  sight  of  the  sun ;  though  the  sun  be  still  where  it 
was,  and  shineth  as  much  as  ever  it  did.  We  use  to  say,  when  the  body 
of  the  moon  is  betwixt  the  sun  and  us,  that  the  sun  is  eclipsed,  when  in- 
deed not  the  sun  but  the  earth  is  darkened :  the  sun  loseth  not  one  of  its 
glorious  beams.  God  is  oft  near  us,  as  he  was  unto  Jacob,  and  we  are 
'  not  aware  of  it,'  Gen.  xxviii.  17.  God  was  near  the  holy  man  Asaph,  when 
he  thought  him  afar  off.  *  I  am  continually  with  thee,'  saith  he  ;  '  thou 
boldest  me  by  my  right  hand,'  Ps.  Ixxiii.  27.  Mary  in  her  weeping  pas- 
sion could  not  see  Christ  before  her ;  he  seemed  a  stranger  unto  her.  So 
long  as  we  can  keep  our  eye  upon  God,  we  are  above  the  reach  of  sin  or 
any  spiritual  danger. 

Chapter  XXXIV. — Of  confirming  this  trust  in  God :  seek  it  of  God  himself. 
Sins  hinder  not:  nor  Satan.     Conclusion  and  Soliloquy. 

§  I.  But  to  return  to  the  drawing  out  of  our  trust  by  ivaiting.  Our 
estate  in  this  world  is  still  to  wait,  and  happy  it  is  that  we  have  so  great 
things  to  wait  for ;  but  our  comfort  is,  that  we  have  not  only  a  '  furniture 
of  graces,'  2  Pet.  i.  5,  one  strengthening  another  as  stones  in  an  arch,  but 
likewise  God  vouchsafeth  some  drops  of  the  sweetness  of  the  things  we  wait 
for,  both  to  increase  our  desire  of  those  good  things,  as  likewise  to  enable 
us  more  comfortably  to  wait  for  them.  And  though  we  should  die  waiting, 
only  cleaving  to  the  promise,  with  little  or  no  taste  of  the  good  promised  ; 
yet  this  might  comfort  us,  that  there  is  a  life  to  come,  that  is,  a  life  of  sight 
and  sense,  and  not  only  of  taste  but  of  fulness,  and  that  for  '  evermore,' 
Ps.  xvi.  11.  Our  condition  here  is  to  live  by  faith  and  not  by  sight ;  only 
to  make  our  living  by  faith  more  lively,  it  pleaseth  God  when  he  sees  fit,  to 
increase  our  earnest  of  that  we  look  for.  Even  here  God  waits  '  to  be 
gracious  to  those  that  wait  for  him,'  Isa.  xxx.  18.  And  in  heaven  Christ  waits 
for  us,  we  are  part  of  his  '  fulness,'  Eph.  i.  23  ;  it  is  part  of  his  joy  that 
'  we  shall  be  where  he  is,'  John  xvii.  24 ;  he  will  not  therefore  be  long  with- 
out us.  The  blessed  angels  and  saints  in  heaven  wait  for  us.  Therefore 
let  us  be  content  as  strangers  to  wait  a  while  till  we  come  home,  and  then 
we  '  shall  be  for  ever  with  the  Lord,'  Rev.  xxii.  5  ;  there  is  our  eternal 
rest,  where  we  shall  enjoy  both  our  God  and  ourselves  in  perfect  happiness, 
being,  as  without  need,  so  without  desire,  of  the  least  change.  When  the 
time  of  our  departure  thither  comes,  then  we  may  say  as  David,  '  Enter 


THE  soul's  conflict.  283 

now,  my  soul,  into  thy  rest,'  Ps.  cxvi.  7.  This  is  the  *  rest  which  remaineth 
for  God's  people,'  Heb.  iv.  9,  that  is  worth  the  waiting  for,  when  we  shall 
rest  from  all  labour  of  sin  and  sorrow,  and  lay  our  heads  in  the  bosom  of 
Christ  for  ever. 

It  stands  us  therefore  upon  to  get  this  great  charter  more  and  more  con- 
firmed to  us,  that  God  is  our  God,  for  it  is  of  everlasting  use  unto  us.  It 
first  begins  at  our  entering  into  covenant  with  God,  and  continues  not  only 
unto  death,  but  entereth  into  heaven  with  us.  As  it  is  our  heaven  upon 
earth  to  enjoy  God  as  ours,  so  it  is  the  very  heaven  of  heaven,  that  there 
we  shall  for  ever  behold  him,  and  have  communion  with  him. 

The  degrees  of  manifesting  this  propriety  *  in  God  are  divers,  rising 
one  upon  another,  as  '  the  light  clears  up  by  little  and  little  till  it 
comes  to  a  perfect  day,'  Prov.  iv.  18.  1.  As  the  ground  of  all  the  rest,  we 
apprehend  God  to  be  a  God  of  some  peculiar  persons,  as  favourites  above 
others.  2.  From  hence  is  stirred  up  in  the  soul  a  restless  desire,  that  God 
would  discover  himself  so  to  it,  as  he  doth  to  those  that  are  his,  that  he 
would  '  visit  our  souls  with  the  salvation  of  his  chosen,'  Ps.  cvi,  4. 
3.  Hence  follows  a  putting  of  the  soul  upon  God,  an  adventuring  itself 
on  his  mercy.  4.  Upon  this,  God,  when  he  seeth  fit,  discovers  by  his 
Spirit  that  he  is  ours.  5.  Whence  followeth  a  dependence  on  him  as 
ours,  for  all  things  that  may  carry  us  on  in  the  way  to  heaven.  6. 
Courage  and  boldness  in  setting  ourselves  against  whatsoever  may  oppose 
us  in  the  way,  as  the  three  young  men  in  Daniel,  '  Our  God  can  deliver  us 
if  he  wiU,'  Dan.  iii.  17.  '  Our  God  is  in  heaven,'  &c.,  Ps.  cxv.  3.  7.  After 
which  springs  a  sweet  spiritual  security,  whereby  the  soul  is  freed  from 
slavish  fears,  and  glorieth  in  God  as  ours  in  all  conditions.  And  this  is 
termed  by  the  apostle,  not  only  assurance,  but  the  '  riches  of  assurance,' 
Col.  ii.  2.  Yet  this  is  not  so  clear  and  full  as  it  shall  be  in  heaven,  because 
some  clouds  may  after  arise  out  of  the  remainder  of  corruption,  which  may 
something  overcast  this  assurance,  until  the  light  of  God's  countenance  in 
heaven  for  ever  scatters  all. 

There  being  so  great  happiness  in  this  nearness  betwixt  God  and  us,  no 
wonder  if  Satan  labour  to  hinder  the  same,  by  interposing  the  guilt  and 
heinousness  of  our  sins,  which  he  knows  of  themselves  will  work  a  sepa- 
ration ;  but  these,  upon  our  first  serious  thought  of  returning,  will  be  re- 
moved. As  they  could  not  hinder  our  meeting  with  God,  so  they  may  cause 
a  strangeness  for  a  time,  but  not  a  parting,  a  hiding  of  God's  countenance, 
but  not  a  banishing  of  us  fi-om  it.  Peter  had  denied  Christ,  and  the  rest 
of  the  apostles  had  left  him  all  alone ;  yet  our  Saviour,  after  his  resurrection, 
forgets  all  former  unkindnesses ;  he  did  not  so  much  as  object  it  to  them, 
but  sends  Mary,  who  herself  had  been  a  great  sinner,  as  an  apostle  to  the 
apostles,  and  that  presently,  to  tell  them  that  he  was  risen,  Mat.  xxviii.  7 ; 
his  care  would  have  no  delay.  He  knew  they  were  in  great  heaviness  for 
their  unkindness.  Though  he  was  now  entered  into  the  first  degree  of  his 
glory,  yet  we  see  his  glory  made  him  not  forget  his  poor  disciples.  Above 
all,  he  was  most  careful  of  Peter,  as  deeper  in  sin  than  the  rest,  and  there- 
fore deeper  in  sorrow.  '  Go  tell  Peter,'  he  needs  most  comfort.  But  what 
is  the  message  ?  that '  I  ascend  not  to  my  Father  alone,  but  to  your  Father ; 
not  to  my  God  only,  but  to  your  God,'  John  xx.  17. 

And  shall  not  we  be  bold  to  say  so  after  Christ  hath  taught  us,  and  put 
this  claim  into  our  mouths  ?  If  once  we  let  this  hold  go,  then  Satan  hath 
us  where  he  would  ;  every  little  cross  then  dejects  us.  Satan  may  darken 
*  That  is,  '  property,  interest  in.' — G. 


284  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

the  joy  of  our  salvation,  but  not  take  away  the  God  of  our  salvation.  David, 
after  his  crying  sin  of  murder,  prays,  '  Restore  unto  me  the  joy  of  thy  sal- 
vation,' Ps.  ii.  12  ;  this  he  had  lost ;  but  yet  in  the  same  psalm  he  prays, 
'  Deliver  me  from  blood,  0  God,  thou  God  of  my  salvation,'  Ps.  li.  14  ; 
therefore,  whatsoever  sense,  reason,  temptation,  the  law,  or  guilt  upon  con- 
science shall  say,  nay,  however  God  himself,  by  his  strange  carriage  to  us 
may  seem  to  be,  yet  let  us  cast  ourselves  upon  him,  and  not  suffer  this  j)lea 
to  be  wrung  from  us,  but  shut  our  eyes  to  all,  and  look  upon  God  '  all- 
gracious  and  all-sufficient,  who  is  the  Father,  the  begetter  of  comfort,' 
2  Cor.  i.  3 ;  the  God,  the  creator  of  consolation,  not  only  of  things  that 
may  comfort,  but  of  the  comfort  itself  conveyed  through  these  unto  us. 
*  Who  is  a  God  Hke  unto  our  God,  that  passeth  by  the  sins  of  the  remnant 
of  his  people?'  Mieah  vii.  18.  This  should  not  be  thought  on  without 
admiration ;  and  indeed  there  is  nothing  so  much  deserves  our  wonderment 
as  such  mercy,  of  such  a  God,  to  such  as  we. 

Since  God  hath  '  avouched  us  to  be  his  peculiar  people,'  Deut.  xxvi.  18, 
let  us  avouch  him,  and  since  he  hath  passed  his  word  for  us,  let  us  pass 
our  words  for  him  that  we  will  be  his,  and  stand  for  him,  and  to  our  power 
advance  his  cause.  Thus  David  out  of  an  enlarged  spirit  saith,  '  Thou  art 
my  God,  and  I  will  praise  thee  ;  thou  art  my  God,  and  I  will  exalt  thee,' 
Ps.  cxix.  28.  Whatsoever  we  engage  for  God,  we  are  sure  to  be  gainers 
by.  The  true  Christian  is  the  wisest  merchant,  and  makes  the  best  ad- 
venture. He  may  stay  long,  but  is  sure  of  a  safe  and  a  rich  return.  A  godly 
man  is  most  wise  for  himself.  We  enter  on  religion,  upon  these  terms,  to 
part  with  ourselves,  and  all,  when  God  shall  call  for  it. 

§  II.  God  much  rejoiceth  in  sinners  converted,  as  monuments  of  his 
mercy,  and  because  the  remembrance  of  their  former  sins  whets  them  on  to 
be  more  earnest  in  his  service,  especially  after  they  have  felt  the  sense  of 
God's  love.  They  even  burn  with  a  holy  desire  of  honouring  him,  whom 
before  they  dishonoured,  and  stand  not  upon  doing  or  suffeuing  anjiihing  for 
him,  but  cheerfully  embrace  all  occasions  of  expressing  obedience.*  God  hath 
more  work  from  them  than  from  others ;  why  then  should  any  be  discouraged  ? 

Neither  is  it  sins  after  our  conversion,  that  nullify  this  claim  of  God  to 
be  ours.  For  this  is  the  grand  difference  betwixt  the  two  covenants,  that 
now  God  will  be  merciful  to  our  sins,  '  if  our  hearts  by  faith  be  sprinkled 
with  the  blood  of  Christ,'  Heb.  x.  22.  Though  one  sin  was  enough  to 
bring  condemnation,  yet  the  free  gift  of  grace  in  Christ  is  of  many  offences 
unto  justification.  And  we  have  a  sure  ground  for  this,  for  the  righteous- 
ness of  Christ  is  God's  righteousness,  and  God  will  thus  glorify  it,  that  it 
shall  stand  good  to  those  that  by  faith  apply  it  against  their  daily  sins,  even 
till  at  once  we  cease  both  to  live  and  sin.  For  this  very  end  was  the  Son  of 
God  willingly  *  made  sin,'  Gal.  iii.  18,  that  we  might  be  freed  from  the 
same.  And  if  all  our  sins  laid  upon  Christ  could  not  take  away  God's  love 
from  him,  shall  they  take  away  God's  love  from  us,  when  by  Christ's  blood 
om-  souls  are  purged  from  them  ? 

0  mercy  of  all  mercies,  that  when  we  were  once  his,  and  gave  away  our- 
selves for  nothing,  and  so  became  neither  his  nor  our  own,  that  then  he 
would  vouchsafe  to  become  ours,  and  make  us  his  by  such  a  way,  as  all  the 
angels  in  heaven  stand  wondering  at ;  even  his  Son,  not  only  taking  our 
nature  and  miserable  condition,  but  our  sin  upon  him,  that  that  being  done 

*  Ex  ipso  dolore  suo  compuncti,  inardescunt  amore  Dei.  Damna  pijecedentia 
lucris  sequentibus  compensant. — G're^[ory]. 


THE  soul's  conflict.  285 

away,  we  might  througli  Christ  have  boldness  with  God  as  ours,  who  is 
now  in  heaven  appearing  there  for  us,  until  he  bring  us  home  to  himself, 
and  presents  us  to  his  Father  for  his  for  ever  ! 

Think  not  then  only  that  we  are  God's  and  he  ours,  but  from  what  love 
and  by  what  glorious  means  this  was  brought  to  pass.  What  can  possibly 
disable  this  claim,  when  God  for  this  end  hath  founded  a  covenant  of  peace 
so  strongly  in  Christ,  that  sin  itself  cannot  disannul  it  ?  Christ  was  there- 
fore manifest,  '  that  he  might  destroy  this  greatest  work  of  the  devil,' 
1  John  iii.  6,  8.  Forgiveness  of  sins  now  is  one  chiefpart  of  our  portion  in 
God.  It  is  good  therefore  not  to  pore  and  plod  so  much  upon  sin  and  vileness 
by  it,  as  to  forget  that  mercy  that  rejoiceth  over  judgment.  If  we  once  be 
God's,  though  we  '  drink  this  deadly  poison,  it  shall  not  hurt  us,'  Mark  xvi.  18. 
God  will  make  a  medicine,  an  antidote  of  it ;  and  for  all  other  evils,  the 
fruit  of  them  is  by  God's  sanctifying  the  same,  the  taking  away  sin  out  of 
our  natures ;  so  that  lesser  evils  are  sent  to  take  away  the  greater.  If 
God  could  not  over-rule  evils  to  his  own  ends,  he  would  never  suffer  them. 

§  m.  I  have  stood  the  longer  upon  this,  because  it  is  the  one  thing  need-     \  \/ 
ful,  Luke  X.  42 ;  the  one  thing  we  should  desu'e,  that  this  one  God,  in      j  '^ 
whom  and  from  whom  is  aU  good,  should  be  ours.     All  promises  of  all     ' 
good  in  the  new  covenant,  spring  first  from  this,  that  God  '  will  be  ours, 
and  we  shall  be  his,'  Jer.  xxxii.  38.     What  can  we  have  more  ?  and  what 
is  in  the  world  less  that  will  content  us  long,  or  stand  us   in   any  stead, 
especially  at  that  time  when  all  must  be  taken  from  us  ?    Let  us  put  up  aU 
om*  desires  for  all  things  we  stand  in  need  of,  in  this  right  we  have  to  God 
in  Christ,  who  hath  brought  God  and  us  together.     He  can  deny  us  no- 
thing, that  hath  not  denied  us  himself.     If  he  be  moved  from  hence  to  do 
us  good,  that  we  are  his,  let  us  be  moved  to  fetch  all  good  from  him,  on 
the  same  right  that  he  is  ours. 

The  persuasion  of  this  will  free  us  from  aU  pusillanimity,  lowliness,  and 
narrowness  of  spirit,  when  we  shall  think  that  nothing  can  hurt  us,  but  it 
must  break  through  God  first.  If  God  give  quietness,  who  shall  '  make 
trouble  ? '  Job  xxxiv.  29.  If  God  be  with  us,  who  can  be  against  us  ?  This 
is  that  which  puts  comfort  into  aU  other  comforts,  that  maketh  any  burden 
light ;  this  is  always  ready  for  all  purposes.  Our  God  is  a  present  and  a 
seasonable  help.  All  evils  are  at  his  command  to  be  gone,  and  all  comforts 
at  his  command  to  come.  It  is  but,  go  comfort,  go  peace,  to  such  a  man's 
heart :  cheer  him,  raise  him ;  go  salvation,  rescue  such  and  such  a  soul  in 
distress.  So  said  and  so  done  presently.  Nay,  with  reverence  be  it 
spoken,  so  far  doth  God  pass  over  himself  unto  us,  that  he  is  content  him- 
self to  be  commanded  by  us.  '  Concerning  the  work  of  my  hands  command 
you  me,'  Isa.  xlv.  11 ;  lay  the  care  and  charge  of  that  upon  me.  He  is 
content  to  be  out- wrestled  and  overpowered  by  a  spirit  of  faith,  as  in  Jacob, 
and  the  woman  of  Canaan,  to  be  as  it  were  at  our  service.  He  would  not 
have  us  want  anything  wherein  he  is  able  to  help  us.  And  what  is  there 
wherein  God  cannot  help  us  ?  If  Christians  knew  the  power  they  have  in 
heaven  and  earth,  what  were  able  to  stand  against  them  ?  What  wonder  ^ 
is  it  if  faith  overcome  the  world,  if  it  overcomes  him  that  made  the  world  ? 
that  faith  should  be  almighty,  that  hath  the  Almighty  himself  ready  to  use 
all  his  power  for  the  good  of  them  to  whom  he  hath  given  the  power  of 
himself  unto  ?  Having  therefore  such  a  living  fountain  to  draw  from,  such 
a  centre  to  rest  in,  having  all  in  one,  and  that  one  ours,  why  should  we 
knock  at  any  other  door  ?    We  may  go  boldly  to  God  now,  as  made  '  ours, 


286  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

being  bone  of  our  bone,  and  flesh  of  our  flesh.'  We  may  go  more  comfort- 
ably to  God,  than  to  any  angel  or  saint.  God  in  the  second  person  hath 
vouchsafed  to  take  our  nature  upon  him,  but  not  that  of  angels.  Our  God 
and  oui'man,  our  God-man  is  ascended  unto  the  high  court  of  heaven,  to  his 
and  our  God,  clothed  with  oui-  natui'e.  Is  there  any  more  able  and  willing 
to  plead  our  cause,  or  to  whom  we  may  trust  business  with,  than  he,  who 
is  in  '  heaven  for  all  things  for  us,  appertaining  to  God  ?'  Heb.  v.  l.* 

It  should  therefore  be  the  chief  care  of  a  Christian,  upon  knowledge  of 
what  he  stands  in  need  of,  to  know  where  to  supply  all.  It  should  raise 
up  a  holy  shame  and  indignation  in  us,  that  there  should  be  so  much  in 
God,  who  is  so  near  unto  us  in  Christ,  and  we  make  so  little  use  of  him. 
What  good  can  any  thing  do  us  if  we  use  it  not  ?  God  is  om's  to  use,  and 
yet  men  will  rather  use  shifts  and  unhallowed  policies,  than  be  beholden  to 
God,  who  thinks  himself  never  more  honoured  by  us  than  when  we  make 
use  of  him.  If  we  believe  anything  will  do  us  good,  we  naturally  make 
out  for  the  obtaining  of  it.  If  we  believe  anything  will  hurt  us,  we  study 
to  decline  it.  And  certain  it  is,  if  we  believed  that  so  much  good  were  in 
God,  we  would  then  apply  ourselves  to  him,  and  him  to  ourselves.  What- 
soever virtue  is  in  anything,  it  is  conveyed  by  application  and  touching  of 
it ;  that  whereby  we  touch  God,  is  our  faith,  which  never  toucheth  him,  but 
it  draws  virtue  from  him.  Upon  the  first  touch  of  faith,  spiritual  life  is 
begun.  It  is  a  bastard  in  nature,  to  believe  anything  can  work  upon 
another  without  spiritual  or  bodily  touch.  And  it  is  a  monster  in  religion 
to  believe  that  any  saving  good  will  issue  from  God,  if  we  turn  from  him, 
and  shut  him  out,  and  our  hearts  be  unwilling.  Where  unbelief  is,  it 
binds  up  his  power.  Where  faith  is,  there  it  is  between  the  soul  and 
God,  as  betwixt  the  iron  and  the  loadstone,  a  present  closing  and  drawing 
of  one  to  the  other.  This  is  the  beginning  of  eternal  Hfe,  so  to  '  know 
God  the  Father  and  his  Son  Christ,'  John  xvii.  4,  as  thereby  to  embrace 
him  with  the  arms  of  faith  and  love  as  ours,  by  the  best  title  he  can  make 
us,  who  is  truth  itself. 

Since  then  our  happiness  lies,  out  of  otttselves,  in  God,  we  should  go  out 
of  ourselves  for  it,  and  first  get  into  Christ,  and  so  unto  God  in  him ;  and 
then  labour,  by  the  Spiiit  of  the  Father  and  the  Son,  to  maintain  acquaint- 
ance with  both,  that  so  God  may  be  ours,  not  only  in  covenant,  but  in 
communion,  hearkening  what  he  will  say  to  us,  and  opening  our  spirits, 
disclosing  our  wants,  consulting  and  advising  in  all  our  distresses  with 
him.  By  keeping  this  acquaintance  with  God,  '  peace  and  all  good  is  con- 
veyed to  us,'  Job  xxii.  21. 

Thereafter  as  we  maintain  this  communion  further  with  him,  we  out  of 
love  study  to  please  him,  by  exact  walking  according  to  his  commands ; 
then  we  shall  feel  increase  of  peace  as  our  care  increaseth ;  then  he  will 
*  come  and  sup  with  us,'  Rev.  iii.  20,  and  be  free  in  his  refreshing  of  us ; 
then  he  will  shew  himself  more  and  more  to  us,  and  manifest  still  a  fur- 
ther degree  of  presence  in  joy  and  strength,  untU  communion  in  grace  ends 
in  communion  in  glory. 

But  we  must  remember,  as  David  doth  here,  to  desire  and  delight  in 
God  himself  more  than  in  anything  that  is  God's.  It  was  a  sign  of  St 
Paul's  pure  love  to  the  Corinthians  when  he  said,  '  I  seek  not  yours,  but 

*  Tutius  et  jucundius  loquor  ad  meum  Jesum  quam  ad  aliquem  sanctorum  Dei 
&c.  Quod  ego  Slim,  fieri  dignatus  est  Deus,  non  factus  est  quod  angeli.  Ad  curiam 
Dei  sui,  Dei  tui,  prsecessit  Deus  tuus,  homo  tuus ;  tunica  tua  indutus  illic  assidue 
pro  nobis  interpellat. — Aug[ustine]. 


THE  soul's  conflict.  287 

you,'  2  Cor.  xii.  14.     We  should  seek  for  no  blessing  of  God  so  much  as    ] 
for  himself. 

What  is  there  in  the  world  of  equal  goodness  to  draw  us  away  from  our 
God  ?  If  to  preserve  the  dearest  thing  we  have  in  the  world,  we  break  with 
God,  God  will  take  away  the  comfort  we  look  to  have  by  it,  and  it  will 
prove  but  a  dead  contentment,  if  not  a  torment  to  us.  Whereas,  if  we 
care  to  preserve  communion  with  God,  we  shall  be  sure  to  find  in  him 
whatsoever  we  deny  for  him,  honour,  riches,  pleasures,  friends,  all ;  so 
much  the  sweeter,  by  how  much  we  have  the  more  immediately  from  the 
spring-head.  We  shall  never  find  God  to  be  our  God  more  than  when, 
for  making  of  him  to  be  so,  we  suffer  anythmg  for  his  sake.  We  enjoy  never 
more  of  him  than  then. 

At  the  first  we  may  seek  to  him,  as  rich  to  supply  our  wants,  as  a 
physician  to  cure  our  souls  and  bodies  ;  but  here  vre  must  not  rest  tiU  we 
come  to  rejoice  in  him  as  our  friend,  and  from  thence  rise  to  an  admiration 
of  him  for  his  own  excellencies,  that  being  so  high  in  himself,  out  of  his 
goodness  would  stoop  low  to  us.  And  we  should  delight  in  the  meditation 
of  him,  not  only  as  good  to  us,  but  as  good  in  himself;  because  goodness 
of  bounty  springs  from  goodness  of  disposition.  He  doth  good,  because  he 
is  good. 

A  natural  man  delights  more  in  God's  gifts  than  in  his  grace.  If  he 
desires  grace,  it  is  to  grace  himself,  not  as  grace,  making  him  hke  unto 
God,  and  issuing  from  the  first  grace,  the  free  favour  of  God  ;  by  which 
means  men  come  to  have  the  gifts  of  God  without  God  himself ;  dona  Dei, 
sine  Deo.  But,  alas  !  what  are  all  other  goods,  without  the  chief  good  ? 
They  are  but  as  flowers,  which  are  long  in  planting,  in  cherishing,  and 
growing,  but  short  in  enjoying  the  sweetness  of  them.  David  here  joys  in 
God  himself;  he  cares  for  nothing  in  the  world  but  what  he  may  have 
with  his  favour ;  and  whatever  else  he  desires,  he  desfres  only  that  he  may 
have  the  better  ground  from  thence  to  praise  his  God. 

§  lY.  The  sum  of  all  is  this,  the  state  of  God's  dear  children  in  this 
world  is  to  be  cast  into  variety  of  conditions,  wherein,  they,  consisting  of 
nature,  flesh,  and  spirit,  every  principle  hath  its  own  and  proper  working. 
They  are  sensible  as  flesh  and  blood ;  they  are  sensible  to  discouragements 
as  sinful  flesh  and  blood ;  but  they  recover  themselves,  as  having  a  higher 
principle,  God's  Spirit,  above  flesh  and  blood  in  them. 

In  this  conflicting  state,  every  principle  labouring  to  maintain  itself,  at 
length  by  help  of  the  Spirit,  backing  and  strengthening  his  own  work, 
grace  gets  the  better,  keeping  nature  within  bounds,  and  suppressing  cor- 
ruption. And  this  the  soul,  so  far  as  it  is  spiritual,  doth  by  gathering  it- 
self to  itself,  and  by  reasoning  the  case  so  far,  till  it  concludes,  and  joins 
upon  this  issue,  that  the  only  way  to  attain  sound  peace  is,  when  aU  other 
means  fail,  to  trust  in  God.  And  thereupon  he  lays  a  charge  upon  his 
soul  so  to  do,  as  being  a  course  grounded  upon  the  highest  reason,  even 
the  unchangeable  goodness  of  God  ;  who,  out  of  the  riches  of  his  mercy, 
having  chosen  a  people  in  this  world,  which  should  be  to  the  glory  of  his 
mercy,  will  give  them  matter  of  setting  forth  his  praise,  in  shewing  some 
token  of  good  upon  them,  as  being  those  on  whom  he  hath  fixed  his  love, 
and  to  whom  he  will  appear  not  only  a  Saviour,  but  salvation  itself; 
nothing  but  salvation.  As  the  sun  is  nothing  but  hght,  so  whatsoever  pro- 
ceeds from  him  to  them  tends  to  further  salvation.  All  his  ways  towards 
them  lead  to  that ;  which  ways  of  his,  though  for  a  time  they  are  secret, 


288  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

and  not  easily  found  out,  yet  at  length  God  will  be  wonderful  in  them,  to  the 
admiration  of  his  enemies  themselves,  who  shall  be  forced  to  say,  God  hath 
done  great  things  for  them ;  and  all  from  this  ground,  that  God  is  our  God 
in  covenant ;  which  words  are  a  stem  *  that  rule  and  guide  the  whole  text. 

For  why  should  we  not  be  disquieted  when  we  are  disquieted  ?  Why 
should  we  not  be  cast  down  when  we  are  cast  down  ?  Why  should  we 
trust  in  God  as  a  Saviour,  but  that  he  is  our  God,  making  himself  so  to  us 
in  his  choicest  favours  ?  doing  that  for  us  which  none  else  can  do,  and 
which  he  doth  to  none  else  that  are  not  his  in  a  gracious  manner.  This 
blessed  interest  and  intercourse  betwixt  God's  Spirit  and  our  spirits,  is  the 
hinge  upon  which  all  turns  ;  without  this  no  comfort  is  comfortable  ;  with 
this,  no  trouble  can  be  very  troublesome. 

Without  this  assurance  there  is  little  comfort  in  soliloquies ;  unless, 
when  we  speak  to  ourselves,  we  can  speak  to  God  as  ours.  For  in  des- 
perate cases  our  soul  can  say  nothing  to  itself  to  still  itself,  unless  it  be 
suggested  by  God.  Discouragements  will  appear  greater  to  the  soul  than 
any  comfort,  unless  God  comes  in  as  ours. 

See  therefore  David's  art ;  he  demands  of  himself  why  he  was  so  cast 
down  ?  The  cause  was  apparent,  because  there  were  troubles  without  and 
terrors  within,  and  none  to  comfort.  Well,  grant  this,  saith  the  Spirit  of 
God  in  him,  as  the  worst  must  be  granted ;  yet,  saith  the  Spii'it,  Trust  in 
God.     So  I  have. 

Why,  then,  wait  in  trusting ;  '  light  is  sown  for  the  righteous,'  Ps.  xcvii. 
11 ;  it  comes  not  up  on  the  sudden.  We  must  not  think  to  sow  and  reap  both 
at  once.     If  trouble  be  lengthened,  lengthen  thy  patience. 

What  good  uill  come  of  this  ? 

God  will  wait  to  do  thee  that  good,  for  which  thou  shalt  praise  him ; 
he  will  deal  so  graciously  with  thee,  as  he  will  deserve  thy  praise  ;  he  will 
shew  thee  his  salvation.  And  new  favours  will  stir  thee  up  to  sing  new 
songs.  Every  new  recovery  of  ourselves  or  friends  is  as  it  were  a  new  life, 
and  ministers  new  matter  of  praise.  And  upon  offering  this  sacrifice  of 
praise,  the  heart  is  further  enlarged  to  pray  for  fresh  blessings.  We  are 
never  fitter  to  pray  than  after  praise. 

But  in  the  mean  time  I  hang  down  my  head,  whilst  mine  enemies  carry 
themselves  highly,  and  my  friends  stand  aloof. 

God  in  his  own  time,  which  is  best  for  thee,  will  be  the  salvation  of  thy 
countenance ;  he  will  compass  thee  about  with  songs  of  dehverance,  and 
make  it  appear  at  last  that  he  hath  care  of  thee. 

But  why  then  doth  God  ajjpear  as  a  stranger  to  me  ? 

That  thou  shouldst  follow  after  him  with  the  stronger  faith  and  prayer ; 
he  withdraws  himself,  that  thou  shouldst  be  the  more  earnest  in  seeking 
after  him.  God  speaks  the  sweetest  comfort  to  the  heart  in  the  wilderness. 
Happily  thou  art  not  yet  low  enough,  nor  purged  enough.  Thy  affections 
are  not  thoroughly  crucified ,  to  the  world,  and  therefore  it  will  not  yet 
appear  that  it  is  God's  good  will  to  deliver  thee.  Wert  thou  a  fit  subject 
of  mercy,  God  would  bestow  it  on  thee. 

But  what  ground  hast  thou  to  build  thyself  so  strongly  upon  God  ? 

He  hath  offered  and  made  himself  to  be  my  God,  and  so  hath  shewed 
himself  in  former  times ;  and  I  have  made  him  my  God,  by  yielding  him 
his  sovereignty  in  my  heart ;  besides  the  present  evidence  of  his  blessed 
Spirit,  clearing  the  same,  and  many  peculiar  tokens  of  his  love  which  I 
daily  do  enjoy ;  though  sometimes  the  beams  of  his  favour  are  eclipsed. 
*  That  is,  '  rudder  '  or  '  helm,'  using  the  place  for  the  thing.— G. 


THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT.  289 

Those  that  are  God's,  besides  their  interest  and  right  in  him,  have  oft  a 
sense  of  the  same,  even  in  this  life,  as  a  foretaste  of  that  which  is  to  come. 
To  the  seal  of  grace  stamped  upon  their  hearts,  God  superadds  a  fresh  seal 
of  joy  and  comfort,  by  the  presence  and  witness  of  his  Spirit ;  and  shews 
likewise  some  outward  token  for  good  upon  them,  whereby  he  makes  it 
appear  that  '  he  hath  set  apart  him  that  is  godly  for  himself,  as  his  owii,' 
Ps.  iv.  3. 

Thus  we  see  that  discussing  of  objections  in  the  consistory  of  the  soul 
settles  the  soul  at  last,  faith  at  length  silencing  all  risings  to  the  con- 
trary. All  motion  tends  to  rest,  and  ends  in  it.  God  is  the  centre  and 
resting-place  of  the  soul,  and  here  David  takes  up  his  rest,  and  so  let  us. 
Then  whatsoever  times  come,  we  are  sure  of  a  hiding-place  and  sanctuary. 

Finis. 

_  *  Although  the  fig-tree  shall  not  blossom,  neither  shall  fruit  be  in  the 
vines,  the  labour  of  the  olive  shall  fail,  and  the  fields  shall  yield  no  meat, 
&c.,  yet  I  will  rejoice  in  the  Lord,  I  will  joy  in  the  God  of  my  salvation,' 
Hab.  iii.  17. 

•  He  that  dwelleth  in  the  secret  place  of  the  Most  High,  shall  lodge  under 
the  shadow  of  the  Almighty,  I  will  say  of  the  Lord,  He  is  my  refuge,  and 
my  fortress ;  My  God,  in  him  will  I  trust,'  Ps.  xci.  1,  2. 

'  My  strength  and  my  heart  faileth,  but  God  is  the  strength  of  my  heart, 
and  my  portion  for  ever,'  Ps.  Ixxiii.  26. 


NOTES. 


('aj  P.  153. — Nero.  Consult  Long's  excellent  memoir  of  this  worst  of  all  the 
Caesars,  in  Dr  Smith's  Dictionary  of  Greek  and  Koman  Biography  and  Mythology. 

(b)  P.  158. — 'File.'  '  In  good  sadness,  I  do  not  know ;  either  it  is  there,  or  it  ia 
upon  a  file,  with  the  duke's  other  letters,  in  my  i&uV—AlVs  Well  that  Ends  Well, 
IV.  3. 

(c)  P.  171.—'  Eestrained.'  The  touching  saying  told  of  many,  from  John  Brad- 
ford to  John  Newton,  and  certainly  used  by  the  latter,  on  seeing  a  criminal  ascend- 
ing the  gallows,  '  There  goes  John  Newton,  but  for  the  grace  of  God,'  iUustratea 
this. 

(«?;  Caracciolus.  The  following  are  the  title-pages  of  the  translations  referred 
to  in  foot-note,  page  184  : — 

1.  '  Newes  from  Italy  of  a  second  Moses,  or  the  Life  of  Galeacius  Caracciolus  the 
noble  Marquesse  of  Vico.'     4to.    London.     1608. 

2.  '  A  President  to  the  Nobilitie  of  Court  and  Countrey,  in  the  Life  of  Galeacius 
Caracciolus,  the  noble  Marquesse  of  Vico  in  the  Kingdome  of  Naples.'    4to.    1612. 

The  incident  noted  by  Sibbes  is  thus  narrated : — 

'At  that  time  Peter  Marytr  Vermilius,  a  Florentine,  was  a  publik  preacher  and 
reader  at  J}faples.  This  man  was  a  canon  regular  (as  they  call  them),  a  man  since 
then  of  great  name  for  his  singular  knowledge  in  Christian  religion,  his  godly 
manners  and  behaviours,  and  for  his  sweet  and  copious  teaching  ;  for  he  afterwards, 
casting  away  his  monkes  coule,  and  renouncing  the  superstitions  of  Ponerie,  he 
shone  so  brightly  in  God's  church,  that  he  dispersed  and  strangely  drove  away  the 
darknesse  and  mistd  of  popery.  Galeacius  was  once  content  at  Cceserta  his  motion 
to  be  drawen  to  heare  Peter  Marytr' s  sermon,  yet  not  so  much  for  any  desire  he  had 
to  learue,  as  moved  and  tickled  with  a  curious  humour  to  heare  so  famous  a  man  as 
then  Martyr  was  accounted  at  that  time.    Peter  Marytr  was  in  hand  with  PauVi  first 

VOL.  I.  T 


290  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

Epistle  to  the  Corinfhians ;  and  as  he  was  shewing  the  weakness  and  deceitfulnea 
of  the  iudgement  of  man's  reason  in  spirituall  things,  as  likewise  the  power  and 
efficasy  of  the  word  of  God  in  those  men  in  whom  the  Lord  worketh  by  his  Spirit, 
•  amongst  other  things,  he  vsed  this  similie  or  comparison — If  a  man  walking  in  a 
large  place  see  a  farre  off  men  and  women  dancing  together,  and  heare  no  sound  of 
instrument,  he  will  iudge  them  mad,  or  at  least  foolish  ;  but  if  he  come  neerer  them, 
and  perseive  their  order,  and  heare  their  musicke,  and  marke  their  measures  and 
their  courses,  he  will  then  be  of  another  minde,  and  not  onely  take  delight  in  see- 
ing them,  but  feele  a  desire  in  himself  to  beare  them  company,  and  dance  with  them. 
Even  the  same  (said  Martyr)  betides  many  men,  who,  when  they  behold  in  others  a 
suddain  and  great  change  of  their  looks,  apparell,  behaviour,  and  whole  course  of 
life,  at  the  tirst  sight  they  impute  it  to  melancholy,  or  some  other  foolish  humour ; 
but  if  they  looke  more  narrowly  into  the  matter,  and  begin  to  heare  and  perceive 
the  harmony  and  sweet  concent  of  God's  Spirit  and  his  word  in  them  (by  the  ioint 
power  of  which  two  this  change  was  made  and  wrought,  which  afore  they  counted 
folly),  then  they  change  their  opinion  of  them,  and,  first  of  all,  begin  to  like  them, 
and  that  change  in  them,  and  afterwards  feele  in  themselves  a  motion  and  desire  to 
imitate  them,  and  to  be  of  the  number  of  such  men,  who,  forsaking  the  world  and 
his  vanities,  doe  thinke  that  they  ought  to  reforme  their  lives  by  the  rule  of  the 
gospell,  that  so  they  may  come  to  true  and  sound  holinesse.  This  comparison,  by 
the  grace  of  God's  Spirit,  wrought  so  wonderfully  with  Galeacius  (as  himselfe  hath 
often  tolde  his  friends),  that  from  that  houre  he  resolved  with  himselfe  more  care- 
fully to  restraine  his  affections  from  following  the  world  and  his  pleasures,  as  before 
they  did,  and  to  set  his  mind  about  seeking  out  the  truth  of  religion,  and  the  way 
to  true  happinesse.  To  this  purpose  he  began  to  reade  the  Scriptures  every  day, 
being  perswaded  that  truth  of  religion  and  soundnesse  of  wisdom  was  to  be  drawen 
out  of  that  fountaine,  and  that  the  highway  to  heaven  was  thence  to  be  sought.  And 
further,  all  his  acquaintance  and  familiarity  did  he  turne  into  such  company  as  out 
of  whose  life  and  conferences  he  was  perswaded  he  might  reape  the  fruit  of  godli- 
nesse  and  pure  religion ;  and  thus  farre  in  this  short  time  had  the  Lord  wrought 
with  him  by  that  sermon,  as,  first,  to  consider  with  himselfe  seriously  whether  he 
was  right  or  no  ;  secondly,  to  take  up  an  exercise  continuall  of  reading  Scripture ; 
thirdly,  to  change  his  former  company,  and  make  choice  of  better.  And  this  was 
done  in  the  year  one  thousand  five  hundred  fortie  and  one,  and  in  the  foure  and 
twentieth  yeare  of  his  age.' 

There  is  a  marginal  note,  having  relation  to  the  chapter,  and  not  to  any  particular 
sentence  in  it — '  See  how  the  first  step  of  a  man's  conversion  from  popery  is  true 
and  sound  mortification  of  carnal  lusts,  and  a  change  of  life.  See,  also,  how  the  first 
means  to  bring  a  man  out  of  error  to  the  truth  is  study  of  holy  Scriptures.' 

(e)  P.  186. — '  Idiot.'  The  original  word  here  (1  Cor.  xiv.  24),  'idiurrig,  which 
Sibbes  renders  literally,  and  which  Wickliffe  had  so  done  long  before,  meant,  at  the 
period,  simply  a  private  person,  as  opposed  to  officials,  and  not  at  all,  as  now,  a 
fatuous  person. 

(f)  P.  192. — '  Pity  a  beast  over-loaden,  and  yet  take  no  pity  of  a  brother.'  Sterne, 
weeping  and  moralising  over  a  '  dead  ass,'  and  at  the  very  time  neglecting  his  nearest 
relatives,  has  long  '  pointed  this  moral.' 

(ff)  P.  209. — Bishop  Patrick  and  the  '  Soul's  Conflict.'  The  paragraph  commenc- 
ing '  The  laws  under  which  we  live,'  as  stated  in  the  foot-note  (page  209),  forms  the 
basis  of  an  extraordinary  charge  against  the  Puritans  by  Bishop  Patrick,  only  less 
extraordinary  than  his  mode  of  putting  it.  It  occurs  in  his,  it  must  be  allowed 
us  to  say,  miscalled  '  Friendly  Debate  betwixt  two  Neighbours,  the  one  a  Conformist, 
the  other  a  Nonconformist,'  described  below.* 

Perhaps  the  better  way  to  deal  with  the  charge  will  be  to  give  it  in  full,  and  then 
see  what  can  be  said  about  it.  Be  it  observed,  that  C.  stands  for  Conformist,  and 
N.  C.  for  Nonconformist.  The  passage  is  as  follows  (part  ii.,  1669,  pp.  219-222 ; 
in  Taylor's  scholarly  edition  of  Patrick's  Works,  vol.  v.,  pp.  656-57)  : — 

C.  I  must  add,  that  you  are  all  guilty  of  too  much  confidence,  and  talk  as  if  you 
were  infallible  in  your  conclusions.  When  you  see,  therefore,  the  folly  of  it  in 
another,  mend  it  in  yourselves  ;   and  do  not  talk  hereafter  as  if  all  godly  men  had 

i^a^^^  '  Friendly  Debate.'  Part  1st.  1668;  part  2d,  1669;  part  3d,  1669-70;  appendix  to  part  3d, 
1669-70,  with  a  postscript.  Curiously  enouph,  the  flth  edition, '  enlarged  and  corrected,'  does  not  in- 
cinde  part  3d,  or  any  ot  the  additions,  though  published  long  subsequently,  viz.,  in  1683-4. 


THE  soul's  conflict,  291 

ever  been  of  your  mind ;  no  man  of  a  tender  conscience  but  held  it  unlawful  to  pre- 
scribe anything  in  God's  worship.  Everybody  knows  Cartwright,  Eeynolds,  Green- 
ham  were  of  this  opinion,  as  the  prefacer  boldly  told  you  ;  and  it  is  a  wonder  he  did 
not  add  Dr  Sibbes.  For  so  some  of  your  party  took  care  the  world  should  believe, 
and  chose  rather  to  corrupt  his  writings,  than  have  it  thought  he  was  of  anoth^  persuasion 
N.  C.  I  shall  never  believe  it, 

C.  You  may  choose ;  but  I  shall  prove  that  this  good  man's  writings  were  ahised 
presently  after  his  death  in  this  very  point.  For  in  his  book  called  the  Soul's  Conflict 
he  gave  this  direction,  among  others,  to  guide  a  soul  in  doubtful  cases—'  The  laws 
under  which  we  live  are  particular  determinations  of  the  law  of  God,  and  therefore 
ought  to  be  a  rule  to  us,  so  far  as  they  reach.  Though  it  be  too  narrow  a  rule  to  be 
good  only  so  far  as  man's  law  guides  unto,  yet  law,  being  the  joint  reason  and  con- 
sent of  many  men  for  public  good,  hath  an  use  for  the  guiding  of  our  actions  that  are 
under  the  same.  Where  it  dashes  not  against  God's  law,  what  is  agreeable  to  law  is 
agreeable  to  conscience.'  Thus  the  rule  stood  when  the  book  first  came  out.*  But 
in  a  very  short  time  after,  when  he  was  newly  laid  in  his  grave,  the  first  words  were 
changed  into  these—'  The  laws  under  which  we  live  are  particular  determinations 
of  the  law  of  God  in  some  duties  of  the  second  table.'f  In  which  they  made  two  restric- 
tions of  that  which  he  had  said  in  general  words ;  first,  they  restrained  the  rule  to  thd 
second  table,  and  not  to  all  things  neither,  but  only  some  duties  ;  and  then  they  add  a  whole 
sentence,  by  way  of  example,  which  was  not  in  the  first  edition,  which  I  make  no  doubt 
was  done  on  purpose,  lest  any  man  who  read  the  book  should  think  it  was  the  Doctor's 
opinion,  that  we  should  conform  to  the  orders  of  our  governors  about  the  worship  of  God, 
where  the  laio  of  God  hath  determined  nothing  in  particular,  and  their  laws  do  not  cross 
his.  But  what  is  there  done  by  the  Jesuits  worse  than  this  ?  What  greater  injury  to  the 
dead  than  thus  to  play  tricks  with  their  books,  and  cliange  their  words  at  your  pleasure. 
N.  C.  It  is  very  strange. 

C.  I  have  something  more  to  tell  you.  As  they  have  added  here,  so  they  have 
^en  away  m  another  place  just  before  it.  He  is  answering,  I  told  you,  this  question, 
What  course  must  we  take  for  guidance  of  our  lives  in  particular  actions  wherein 
doubts  may  arise,  what  is  most  agreeable  to  God's  will  ?  And  oue  advice  is  this— 
'  We  must  look  to  our  place  wherein  God  hath  set  us.  If^  we  be  in  subjection  to 
others,  their  authority  in  doubtful  things  ought  to  sway  with  us.'  A  dangerous  rule, 
some  men  thought ;  and  therefore  in  the  next  edition  they  left  out  those  words,  '  in 
doubtful  things  ;'  and  also  blotted  out  this  whole  sentence  which  follows— 'It  is 
certam  we  ought  to  obey  (viz.,  in  doubtful  things  of  which  he  is  speaking),  and  if  the 
things  wherein  we  are  to  obey  be  certain  to  us,  we  ought  to  leave  that  which  is 
uncertain,  and  stick  to  that  which  is  certain.  In  this  case,  we  must  obey  those  that 
are  under  God.* 
JV.  C.  Are  you  sure  of  this  ? 

_  C.  As  sure  as  that  I  see  you  ;  though  I  must  tell  you  there  was  a  neat  device  to 
hide  this  fraud  :  for  they  reprinted  the  book  speedily  with  the  very  same  title-page  that 
was  before,  without  giving  notice  that  it  was  a  second  edition  ;  and  by  leaving  out  those 
lines,  and  adding  an  example,  as  I  told  ym,  to  illustrate  the  rule  as  they  had  restrained  it, 
they  made  the  pages  exactly  even  as   they  were  at  the  first.X     Afterward  the  book  was 
divided  into  chapters  ;  and  in  all  editions  since,  you  will  find  these  rules  (chap.  17)  with 
these  alterations. 
iV.  C.  By  his  own  appointment,  it  is  like. 
C  Why  did  they  not  tell  us  so  ? 
iV.  C.  I  know  not. 

a  I  wiU  tell  you  then.  They  were  loth  to  tell  a  plain  lie ;  for  the  Doctor  died 
withm  three  days  after  he  had  writ  his  preface  to  the  first  impression,  and  therefore, 
It  IS  most  likely,  made  no  alterations.  That  preface  was  dated  July  the  first  1685,§ 
and  he  died  July  the  fourth.  So  I  gather  from  those  who  put  out  his  two  last  ser- 
mons, preached  June  21st  and  28th  ;  and  he  died,  say  they,  the  Lord's  day  following. 

*  First  Edition,  1635,  page  364 

t  From  page  364  of  B.  I  note  this,  as  Taylor  in  his  ediHon  of  the  'Friendly  Debate '  mistakenly 
gives  a  reference  to  C G.  •■"o^cu.jr 

t  There  are  two  editions  of  1635,  one  of  his  own,  another  of  somebody's  else,  but  so  ordered,  that 
tney  seem  the  same.  At  least,  they  reprinted  that  sheet  (wherein  these  things  are  contained)  with 
'°?se  alterations,  which  I  add  lest  I  should  not  be  rightly  understood  by  all. 

&  Mr  Taylor  adds  a  foot-note  here—'  The  day  of  the  month  is  not  appended  in  the  first  unaltered 
eaition,  a  copy  of  which  is  in  the  Bodleian  Library.'  This  is  an  overlook.  The  'unaltered  edition' 
A  IS  now  before  me,  and  it  bears  the  date  '  July  1.  1635.'  Mr  Taylor  apparently  turned  to  the  '  Epistle 
iieaicatory,  which  is  undated,  instead  of  to  the  address '  To  the  Keader.'— G. 


292  THE  soul's  conflict. 

Immediately  after  which  came  out  a  new  impression  of  the  same  year  1635,  hut  not  called  a 
second  edition,  which  they  would  have  us  believe  was  not  till  1636  ;  a  mere  cheat,  as  I 
confidently  affirm,  having  seen  and  compared  all. 

Not  satisfied  with  the  preceding,  the  charge  is  renewed,  and,  if  possible,  intensi- 
fied in  a  '  general  preface  '  to  the  '  6th  edition  '  [1684,  §  ix. ;  in  Taylor's  edition 
supra,  vol.  v.,  pp.  262-3].  That  the  whole  may  be  before  our  readers,  this  fresh 
assault  may  also  be  given  : — 

'  And  let  me  beseech  all  those  who  shall  cast  their  eyes  on  this  preface,  by  no 
means  to  hearken  to  one  sort  of  people  among  them,  but  to  look  upon  them  as  men 
of  an  evil  mind,  that  are  perniciously  bent  to  their  own  and  all  our  destruction ; 
jBich,  I  mean,  as  persuade  them  to  read  nothing  that  is  said  for  their  information, 
nd  take  as  great  care  to  continue  their  scruples  as  we  do  to  remove  them.  An  in- 
tance  of  which  we  had  long  ago  in  the  corrupting  of  Dr  Sibbes's  book,  called  the 
Boul's  Conflict,  which  hath  been  in  many  hands  since,  and  might  have  done  much 
to  the  settling  men's  minds  in  dutiful  obedience  to  authority,  if  they  of  the  then 
discontented  party  had  not  falsified  his  words,  and  quite  altered  the  sense  of  his  dis- 
course. For  it  was  intended  to  satisfy  weak  and  doubtful  people  in  those  very 
things,  as  well  as  others,  which  still  trouble  this  church  ;  but  lest  they  should 
receive  such  satisfaction  as  to  conform  to  public  orders,  when  they  were  in  any  un- 
certainty of  mind  about  them  (as  Dr  Sibbes  honestly  advised  them  to  do,  nay,  told 
them  they  ought  to  do,  notwithstanding  their  doubts  and  scruples),  there  was  care 
taken  to  have  that  passage  quite  blotted  out  of  his  book  immediately  upon  his  death, 
which  happened  as  soon  as  the  book  had  seen  the  light.  Read  the  second  part  of 
this  treatise,  pp.  225,  226,  &c.,  and  then  consider  what  kind  of  conscience  this  is, 
and  how  impudently  it  pretends  to  tenderness,  which  is  so  strait-laced  about  a  cere- 
mony, and  takes  such  a  liberty  as  this  to  deprave  other  men's  writings,  and  make 
them  speak  contrary  to  their  meaning.  If  they  could  be  persuaded  to  reflect  whose 
practice  this  is,  and  how  odious  it  hath  made  those  who  have  been  guilty  of  it,  it  is 
possible  they  might  be  ashamed  to  find  this  foul  and  (as  they  would  call  it  in  others) 
anti-Christian  dealing  among  themselves.' 

Such  is  the  charge  and  case  of  the  bishop  against  the  Puritans  in  all  its  length 
and  breadth,  and  I  would  now  make  a  few  remarks  upon  it.  It  only  requires,  I 
apprehend,  a  statemen^of  matters-of-fact  to  set  the  whole  aside.  But  it  were  to 
dishonour  the  memory  of  the  Puritans  to  emulate  the  spirit  of  the  bishop  in  vindi- 
cating them. 

[a]  The  text  of  the  sentences  (let  the  word  be  marked)  in  question  is  found  in 
'  Soul's  Conflict '  A,  the  original  edition,  as  given  in  the  '  Friendly  Debate  ;'  and  the 
changes  alleged  are  accurately  represented  from  '  Soul's  Conflict '  B.     But — 

[6]  The  following  specific  notice,  which  the  bishop,  as  will  be  shewn,  knew  of,  but 
apparently  found  it  convenient  to  ignore,  warrants  us  in  affirming  that  the  omissions 
and  additions  of  B,  were  made,  if  not  from  the  dictation,  at  least  with  the  sanc- 
tion of  Sibbes  himself.  It  is  taken  from  the  close  of  the  address  '  To  the  Christian 
Reader :' — '  By  reason,'  he  says,  '  of  my  absence  while  the  work  was  in  printing, 
SOME  SENTENCES  Were  MISTAKEN.'*  Now,  that  the  '  sentences '  in  debate  were  those 
herein  referred  to,  is  self-evident,  from  this  fact,  that  they  are  thk  only  sen- 
tences IN  THE  whole  book  changed  in  B.     Nor  is  this  all.     For — 

[c]  As  if  to  guard  against  the  abuse  of  the  '  general  rule  '  laid  down  in  the  mis- 
taken sentences,  in  absence  of  the  after-limitations  inserted  in  B,  he  adds — '  Some 
men  will  be  ready  to  deprave  the  labours  of  other  men's,  but,  so  good  may  be  done, 
let  all  such  ill-disposed  persons  be  what  they  are,  and  what  they  will  be,  unless  God 
turn  their  hearts.'f     I  remark  by  the  way — 

[d]  That  it  is  the  more  necessary  to  attend  to  the  intimation  by  Sibbes  of  'mis- 
taken sentences,^  inasmuch  as  Pickering's  beautiful,  but,  unfortunately,  inaccurate, 
reprint  of  the  '  Soul's  Confiict,'  by  a  strange  oversight,  omits  it.J 

[e]  It  may  be  very  safely  left  with  every  unprejudiced  reader  to  decide  whether 
it  be  not  plain,  from  the  above  words  of  Sibbes,  that  some  of  his  friends,  Goodwin, 
or  Nye,  or  Ash  (to  whom  he  confided  his  MSS.),  had  called  his  attention  to  the 
'sentences,'  and  received  from  him  the  modifications  and  corrections  inserted  in  B, 
and  from  B  to  H.  and  in  all  subsequent  editions.     The  specific  noting  of  certain 

mistaken  sentences '  has  no  meaning  otherwise.     It  must  be  kept  in  mind  also, 

*  See  page  127,  line  11  from  bottom,  of  our  reprint  in  this  volume. 

t  Ibid.,  line  10  from  bottom. 
_  t  '  Tbe  Bruised  Reed'  and  other  pieces  in  the  companion  volume  to  the  '  Soul's  Conflict,'  by  Picker- 
ing, has  the  same  beauty  of  typography,  but  even  more  inaccuracies. 


THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT.  293 

that  the  '  Soul's  Conflict '  was  posthumously  published,  having  only  been  printed  off 
while  the  author  was  on  his  death-bed.     Again,  I  remark — 

[/]  That  the  mistake  would  be  the  more  readily  made,  from  the  circumstance, 
that,  in  common  with  all  the  writings  of  Sibbes,  he  seems  to  have  taken  as  tha 
groundwork  of  the  '  Soul's  Conflict,'  the  brachy-graphic  notes  of  others  written  down 
from  his  lips  on  delivery.  These  he  simply  revised.*  Having  in  my  library  a 
volume  of  such  'notes,'  I  speak  with  the  less  hesitation. 

[y]  In  the  matter  of  editions,  and  the  related  '  charge  '  of  •  trick,'  and  *  falsifica- 
tion,' and  'corruption,'  it  is  untrue  that  they  [i.e.,  the  Puritans]  reprinted  the  book 
speedily,  with  the  very  same  title-page  that  was  before,  without  giving  notice  that 
it  was  a  second  edition.  B,  was  not  a  '  reprint,'  was  not  a  '  new  edition,'  but 
simply  A,  with  leaf  364-5  inserted,  and  'victory  '  in  title-page,  instead  of  '  victorie,' 
and  C,  the  '  second  edition,'  does  bear  on  its  title  page  these  words,  '  The  Second 
Edition,'  and  the  date,  not  of  1636,  as  the  bishop  would  have  us  believe,  but  of  1635. 
I  have  a  copy  in  my  library,  and  another  will  be  found  in,  respectively,  University 
Library,  Cambridge,  and  the  Library  of  Trinity  College,  Dublin.  I  place  below 
the  verbatim  et  literatim  et  punctatim  title-page.t 

[A]  It  would  be  very  idle  to  enter  into  a  controversy  as  to  the  relative  teaching  of 
the  sentences,  as  in  A  and  B.  Every  dispassionate  reader  of  both  must  admit  that 
there  is  no  change  in  the  sentiment,  but  simply  an  expansion  by  way  of  explana- 
tion.    In  the  original  form,  it  was  said,  '  The  laws  under  which  we  live 

ought  to  be  a  rule  unto  us,  so  far  as  they  reach ;'  and  it  was  only  illustrating  the  ex- 
tent of  the  obligation  of  the  rule  to  add  in  B,  '  in  some  duties  of  the  second  table,'  &c. 
"Would  Bishop  Patrick  really  have  us  regard  Sibbes  as  teaching  that  the  '  rule'  did 
extend  beyond  the  '  second  table,'  while  we  read  so  unmistakably,  in  A  and  B  alike, 
the  qualification,  '  Where  it  dashes  not  against  God's  law  T  Every  one  who  knows  the 
works  of  Sibbes,  knows  that  in  a  venal  and  time-serving  semi-popish  period  he  held 
with  all  his  might,  that  in  matters  of  conscience,  the  law  of  God  contained  in  the  word 
of  G  id  was  the  supreme  and  only  arbiter.  It  is  worse  than  slander  to  maintain  that 
he  would  liave  had  men  'conform  ti.  the  orders  of  our  .^ovornors  about  the  worship 
of  God '  apart  therefrom.  The  utmost  he  saya,  and  he  says  even  that  with  the 
preliminary  caution,  '  though  it  be  too  nakrow  a  rule  to  be  good  only  [carefully 
italicised  in  A  and  B],  so  far  as  man's  law  guides  unto,'  is  this  .  .  ,  '  yet  law  . 
hath  AN  use  for  the  guiding  of  our  actions  that  are  under  the  same.' 

This  is  sufficiently  explicit,  and  conclusively  meets  that  unquestioning  submission 
to  '  the  powers  that  be,'  which  ofi"ered  its  inodorous  incense  at  the  shrine  of  James 
I.,  and  his  son  Charles  I. — that  worshipping  of  '  the  right  divine  of  kings  to  govern 
wrong,''  by  which,  in  the  indignant  couplet  of  old  Benjamin  Bennet — 
'  The  sov'beign's  will  becomes  our — law, 
The  church's  will  our— creed.' 

[t]  As  to  the  'blotting  out'  of  the  second  sentence  (first  in  order),  animadverted 
upon  by  the  bishop,  it  may  be  sufficient  to  observe,  that  the  omission  of  the  words. 
'  in  doubtful  cases,'  is  explained  and  accounted  for  by  the  fuller  statement,  with 
example,  thereafter  given  ;  and  equally  is  the  deletion  of  the  remainder  accounted 
for,  partly  by  its  being  a  mere  tautology  in  view  of  the  after  fuller  statement,  and 
partly  that  there  was  necessarily  abridgment  here  to  admit  of  corresponding  enlarge- 
ment there,  within  the  compass  of  the  one  leaf  in  B,  as  in  A. 

*  '  Revised.'  See  address  to  « Christian  Reader '  prefixed  to  '  Bruised  Reed  '  and  '  Soul's  Conflict,'  and 
the  various  prefaces  to  the  posthumously  published  volumes.  The  B.  R.  and  S.  C.  seem  to  have 'been 
more  fully  written  out  by  Sibbes  himself ;  but  as  Mr  Ryle  observes  of  Ward,  even  they,  and  much  more 
the  others,  have  all  the  characteristics  of  compositions  intended  for  ears  rather  than  for  eyes,  for  hearers 
rather  than  for  readers.  In  the  haste  of  revision,  it  is  easily  to  be  understood  how  Sibbes  passed  by  tha 
•mistaken  sentences.' 

t '  The  SOVLES  Conflict  with  it  selfe,  And  Victory  over  it  self  by  Faith :  A  Treatise  of  the  inward 
disquietments  of  distressed  spirits,  with  comfortable  remedies  to  establish  them.  Returne  unto  thy  rest 
0  my  .soule,  for  the  Lord  hath  dealt  bountifully  with  thee.  By  R.  Sibbs  D.D.  Master  of  Kaiherine  Hall 
in  Cambridge,  and  Preacher  of  Grayes  Inne  London.  The  Second  Edition.  Lo.vuon  Printed  hy  M.  F. 
for  fl.  Dawlman  at  the  Brazen  Serpent  in  Pauls  Churchyard.  1635.  12"'  By  the  way,  itmayba 
noticed  as  an  Incidental  confirmation  of  above,  as  to  B  being  identical  with  A,  that  Benlowes'  and 
Quarles's  'Verses'  did  not  appear  in  it,  but  first  in  C.  There  was  a.' second  edition'  also  of  1636,  which 
perhaps  explains,  but  does  not  in  the  slightest  extenuate,  the  bishop's  rash  and  reckless  assertion,  see- 
ing he  boasts  of  having  seen  and  compared  all.  But  indeed  D,  as  in  the  case  of  A  and  B,  is  palpably 
from  the  same  types,  a  mere  further  issue  of  C.  Hence,  probably,  the  designating  C  and  D  '  the  second 
edition,'  the  only  change  being  in  the  date  1635  into  1636.  It  will  be  noticed  from  our  prefatory  note 
to 'Soul's  Conflict,' that  there  were  two  ' fourth '  editions  likewise.  Nichols,  in  his  Introduction  to 
Pearson  on  the  Creed,  has  shewn  how  publishers  were  wont  to  continue  issuing  ertition  upon  edition, 
■with  the  same  date.  I  believe  this  to  have  been  done  with  Sibbes's  '  Soul's  Conflict,'  and  that  the  long 
apparent  interval  between  edition  of  1651  and  that  of  1658  is  thus  explained. 


294  THE  SOUL  S  CONFLICT. 

That  this  is  the  true  esplanation,  will  be  readily  granted. 

[/]  When  it  is  remembered  who  were  the  literary  executors  and  editors  of  all 
Sibbes's  writings.  If  the  honoured  and  venerable  names  of  Thomas  Goodwin,  Philip 
Nye,  Jeremiah  Burroughs,  Simeon  Ashe,  James  Nalton,  be  not  sufiBcient  to  put  to 
flight  all  charges  of  unauthorised  changes  or  omissions,  much  more  of  'trick,' 
'  falsification,'  '  corruption,'  then  none  may  hope  to  do  so.  But  apart  altogether  from 
Sibbes's  own  explicit  declaration,  that  '  some  sentences  '  had  been  '  mistaken,'  and 
his  deprecation  of  any  '  depraving '  of  his  writings  on  the  strength  (or  rather  weak- 
ness) of  such  mistake,  the  character  of  the  men  is  more  than  sufficient  to  meet  the 
"XJcusations  and  insinuations  of  the  '  Friendly  Debate.'     Finally, 

\Jc]  The  use  of  the  peculiar  word  '  deprave,'  *  in  the  second  statement  of  his  case, 
reveals  the  bishop's  knowledge  of  Sibbes's  special  intimation  concerning  the  mis- 
taken sentences,  a  circumstance  which  aggravates  his  disingenuousness. 

I  would  only  add,  that  a  similar  examination  of  the  numerous  other  kindred 
charges  of  the  '  Friendly  Debate  '  will  satisfy  any  one  that  scarcely  a  page  is  without 
its  over  or  under  statement,  that  its  citations  are  wrested  from  their  context,  that 
dogma  is  substituted  for  proof,  and  loud  assertion  for  argument,  while  the  entire 
spirit  and  temper  evidence  a  contest  for  victory  rather  than  truth. 

(h)  P.  214. — '  The  soul  is  made  for  God,  and  never  finds  rest  till  it  returns  to  him 
again.'  This  seems  to  be  a  reminiscence  of  the  well-known  saying  of  Augustine, 
'  Thou  madest  us  for  thyself,  and  our  heart  is  restless,  until  it  rests  in  thee,'  (Confess. 
Book  i.  1). 

(i)  P.  243. — '  No  calling  so  mean  ....  enough  to  give  account  for.'  I  have 
marked  this  searching  observation,  in  order  to  confirm  it  with  the  great  and  worthy 
John  Brown  of  Haddington's  '  Hint  to  Ministers,'  than  which  few  things  are  more 
striking.  It  was  originally  addressed  to  Dr  Waugh,  when  a  young  man,  and  sub- 
sequently published  in  the  '  Evangelical  Magazine.'  The  Rev.  John  Brown  of 
Haddington,  clarum  et  venerahile  nomen,  in  a  letter  of  paternal  counsels  and  cautions 
to  one  of  his  pupils  newly  ordained  over  a  small  congregation,  wrote  thus — '  I  know 
the  vanity  of  your  heart,  and  that  you  will  feel  mortified  that  your  congregation  is 
very  small,  in  comparison  with  those  of  your  brethren  around  you  ;  but  assure  your- 
self on  the  word  of  an  old  man,  that  when  you  come  to  give  an  account  of  them  to  the 
Lord  Christ,  at  his  judgment-seat,  you  will  think  you  have  had  enough.^ — Memoir  of  Dr 
Waugh,  by  Drs  Hay  and  Belfrage.     1839.     8vo.     Pages  64-5. 

(j)  P.  259. — '  Salvations.'  Sibbes  here  notes  the  bold  and  unusual  expression 
which  would  seem  to  indicate  such  abundant  help  as  meets  abounding  need.  It  is 
interesting  to  find  one  thus  early  turning  from  time  to  time  to  the  original  Hebrew 
as  well  as  Greek.  G. 

• '  Deprave.'    See  ante  page  127,  line  10  from  bottom. 


THE  SAINT'S  SAFETY  IN  ETIL  TIMES. 


THE  SAINT'S  SAFETY  IN  EYIL  TIMES. 

Note. 

The  '  Saint's  Safety '  forms  a  moiety  of  the  only  remaining  volume  published  by 
Sibbes  himself.  The  full  title-page  is  given  below.*  These  two  masterly  discourses 
form  Nos.  8  and  9  of  the  folio,  entitled  •  The  Saint's  Cordials.'  (2d  edition,  1637  ; 
3d  edition,  1658).  Our  text  follows  the  edition  of  1633.  That  of  1634  is  the  same 
book  with  a  new  title. — G 


•  Title-page 


THE 

SAINTS 

Safetie  in 
EviLL  Times. 
Delivered  at  St  Maries  in  Cam- 
bridge the  fift  of  November  upon  occa- 
sion of  the  Powdee-Plot. 
Whereunto  is  annexed  a  Passion-Sermon, 
Preached  at  Mercer's  Chappel 
London  upon  Good-Friday. 
As  also  the  Happinesse  of  enjoying  Christ 
laid  open  at  the  FuneraU  of  Mr  Sherland 

late  Recorder  of  Northampton. 

Together  with  the  most  vertuous  life  and 

Heavenly  end  of  that  Religioxis 

Gentleman. 

BY 

R.  Sibbes,  D.D.,  Master  of  Katherine-Hall 

in  Cambridge,  and  Preacher  at  Grayes-Inne  Londok. 

John  3,  30. 

Let  him  increase,  let  me  decrease. 

London, 

Printed  by  M.  Flesher  for  R.  Dawlman  at  the  Bra 

zeu  Serpent  in  PaiJs  Church-yard.    1633. 


THE  SAINT'S  SAFETY  IN  EVIL  TIMES. 


Behold,  he  travaileth  with  iniquity,  and  hath  conceived  mischief,  and  brought 
forth  a  lie.— Ps.  VII.  14. 

These  be  the  words  of  David.  The  title  shews  the  occasion,  which  was 
the  malicious  slander  and  cruel  practices  of  Ahithophel  or  Shimei,  in  the 
time  of  Absalom's  rebellion.  The  words  express  the  conception,  birth,  car- 
riage, and  miscarriage,  of  a  plot  against  David.  In  which  you  may  consider, 
1.  What  his  enemies  did.  2.  What  God  did.  3.  What  we  all  should  do  : 
his  enemies'  intention,  God's  prevention,  and  our  duty ;  his  enemies'  inten- 
tion, he  travaileth  tvith  iniquity,  and  conceiveth  mischief ;  God's  prevention, 
he  brought  forth  a  lie;  our  duty.  Behold. 

His  enemy's  intention  or  action  is  set  out  by  proportion  to  a  bodily  con- 
ception. The  Holy  Ghost  dehghts  to  present  unto  us  the  plots  of  wicked 
men  under  the  resemblance  of  a  bodily  conception  and  birth,  by  reason  of 
the  analogy  between  both.  The  mind  hath  its  conceptions  as  well  as  the 
body.  The  seed  of  this  conception  was  some  wicked  thought  either  raised 
up  by  the  heart  itself,  or  cast  in  by  Satan,  that  envious  man.  Not  only 
wicked  men,  but  their  devices,  are  the  seed  of  the  serpent.  The  understand- 
ing was  the  womb  to  conceive,  the  will  to  consent.  The  conception  was  the 
hatching  of  a  mischievous  plot ;  the  quickening  of  it  was  the  resolution  and 
taking  it  in  hand  ;  the  impregnation,  growing  big,  and  travailing  of  it,  was 
the  carriage  of  it  the  due  time  ;  the  birth  itself  was  the  execution  expected, 
but  yet  miscarried  and  stillborn.  They  intended  the  destruction  of  David, 
but  brought  forth  their  own  ruin. 

1.  Quo  minor  necessitas  peccandi,  eo  majus  peccatum.  For  the  conception, 
observe  the  aggravation  of  the  sin,  he  conceiveth.  (1.)  He  was  not  put 
upon  it,  or  forced  unto  it ;  it  was  voluntary.  The  more  liberty  we  have  not 
to  sin,  makes  our  sin  the  greater.  He  did  not  this  in  passion,  but  in  cold 
blood.  The  less  will,  less  sin.  Involuntarium  minuit  de  ratiom  peccati. 
Here  could  be  no  plea,  because  nothing  is  more  voluntary  than  plotting. 
Where  the  will  sets  the  wit  a  work  to  devise,  and  the  body  to  execute  mis- 
chief, it  shews  the  spreading  and  largeness  of  sin  in  any  man ;  for  the  will 
being  the  desire  of  the  whole  man,  carries  the  whole  man  with  it. 

Voluntas  appetitus  totius  suppositi.  Besides,  when  a  man  sins  voluntarily, 
there  is  less  hope  of  amendment,  because  his  will  is  not  counselable ;  if 
the  defect  were  in  the  understanding  of  a  man,  then  sound  dii-ection  might 


298  THE  saint's  safety  in  evil  times. 

set  it  right ;  but  where  the  will  is  set  upon  a  thing,  and  is  the  only  reason 
of  itself  (as  when  a  man  will,  because  he  wills)  there  counsel  will  not  be 
heard  ;  for,  tell  a  roving  person  that  he  is  out  of  the  way,  he  knows  it  well 
enough  already,  and  means  not  to  take  your  direction ;  but  tell  an  honest 
traveller  that  ignorantly  mistakes  his  way,  and  he  wiU  thank  you.  So  tell 
a  popish  atheist  that  he  is  in  an  error,  he  heeds  it  not,  because  he  is  a 
papist  for  bye-ends,  not  in  judgment,  and  resolves  to  be  so,  bring  what 
reasons  you  can,  his  hope  being  to  rise  that  way.  Though  the  will  follow 
some  kind  of  understanding,  yet  it  is  in  the  power  of  the  will  what  the 
understanding  shall  consult  and  determine  of;  and,  therefore,  unless  the 
maUce  of  the  will  be  first  taken  away  by  grace,  it  will  always  bias  our  judg- 
ments the  wrong  way. 

2.  Neither  was  this  plot  only  voluntary,  but  with  delight,  because  it  was 
a  conception ;  births  are  with  more  pain.  Delight  carries  the  whole  strength 
and  marrow  of  the  soul  with  it ;  much  of  the  soul  is  where  delight  is. 

3.  Again,  it  was  a  spiritual  sin.  The  spirit  of  a  man  is  the  chief  seat  of 
God's  good  Spirit,  wherein  he  frames  aU  holy  devices  and  good  desires. 
The  spirit  is  either  the  best  or  the  worst  part  in  a  man.  Here  Satan  builds 
his  nest  and  forges  all  his  designs,  his  masterpieces,  his  powder-plots.  The 
chief  curse  or  blessing  of  God  is  upon  the  spirits  of  men.  If  men  be  raised 
never  so  high  in  the  world,  yet  if  they  are  given  to  a  maUcious  and  devilish 
spirit,  they  are  under  a  most  heavy  judgment,  carrying  Satan's  stamp  upon 
them.  Diseases  that  seize  upon  the  spirits  of  men,  as  pestilential  diseases, 
&c.,  are  more  deadly  than  those  that  seize  upon  the  humours.  Spiritual 
wickednesses  are  the  most  desperate  wickednesses.  Sins  are  more  judged 
by  the  mind  than  by  the  fact. 

4.  And  as  it  was  a  spiritual  sin,  so  it  was  artificial.  There  was  a  great 
deal  of  art  and  cunning  in  it ;  and  in  evil  things,  the  more  art,  the  worse. 
Art  commends  other  things,  but  it  makes  sin  the  more  sinful.  Doli  non 
sunt  doli,  ni  astu  colas.  When  men  are  witty  to  work  mischief,  and  wise  to 
do  evil,  then  they  are  evil  in  grain.  It  is  best  to  be  a  bungler  at  this  occu- 
pation. Ingenuous  men  carry  their  hatred  open ;  but  this  plot  was  spun 
with  so  fine  a  thread  as  could  not  easily  be  discerned. 

5.  Again,  they  were  very  diligent  in  it,  for  it  was  a  curious  web.  And 
as  in  weaving,  head  and  hand,  eye  and  foot,  ail  go  together,  so  here  they 
mustered  up  all  their  wits.     Judas  is  awake  when  Peter  sleeps. 

6.  And  which  is  worst  of  all,  they  were  so  well  pleased  with  the  brat  of 
their  own  brain  that  they  travailed  of  it.  It  increases  guilt  when  men  upon 
view  and  sight  of  their  plot  grow  so  far  in  love  with  it  that  they  long  to  be 
delivered  of  it.  The  more  the  soul  dwells  upon  any  sinful  plot,  the  more 
estrangement  there  is  from  God  ;  because  the  happiness  of  the  soul  consists 
in  cleaving  to  God  the  fountain  of  all  good.  The  more  dehberation  any  man 
takes  in  sinning,  the  more  his  soul  is  pleased  with  wickedness.  A  heart 
long  exercised  in  sin  wiU  admit  of  no  impression  of  grace ;  for  the  spirits 
are  so  absorbed  with  other  designs  that  they  are  dry  and  dead  to  better 
things.  Many  thousands  are  in  hell  at  this  day  for  suffering  their  spirits  to 
shove  them  too  far  into  sin.  Many  suck  out  the  delight  of  sin  before  they  act 
it,  as  Esau  pleased  himself  by  thinking  '  the  day  of  mourning  for  his  father 
would  come,  wherein  he  might  be  revenged  of  his  brother,'  Gen.  xxvii.  41. 

7.  Yet  this  sin  was  not  only  spiritual  and  imminent,  but  transient  like- 
wise. It  reached  against  the  second  table,  and,  therefore,  against  the 
principles  of  nature,  and  against  society,  out  of  which  God  gathers  a  church. 
There  was  false  witness  and  murder  in  this  sin.     In  this  respect  it  is  that 


IHE  saint's  safety  IN  EVIL  TIMES.  299 

the  sins  of  the  second  table  are  greater  than  the  sins  of  the  first,  because 
they  are  against  more  clear  Hght,  A  natural  conscience  hath  a  clearer  eye 
in  these  things.  Here  is  hght  upon  hght;  for  both  grace  and  nature  con- 
demn these  sins.  Yet  for  order  in  sinning,  the  rise  of  aU  sin  against  man, 
is  our  sinning  against  God  first,  for  none  sin  against  men,  but  they  sin 
against  God  in  the  first  place,  whereupon  the  breach  of  the  first  command- 
ment is  the  ground  of  the  breach  of  all  the  rest ;  for  if  God  were  set  up  in 
the  heart  in  the  first  place,  there  parents  would  be  honoured,  and  all  kind 
of  injury  suppressed  for  conscience  sake.  The  Scripture  gives  this  as  a 
cause  of  the  notorious  courses  of  wicked  men,  '  that  God  is  not  in  all  their 
thoughts,'  Ps.  X.  4.  They  forget  there  is  a  God  of  vengeance  and  a  day  of 
reckoning.  The  fool  would  needs  enforce  upon  his  heart,  '  that  there  is  no 
God,'  Ps.  xiv.  1,  and  what  foUows  :  *  Corrupt  they  are,  there  is  none  doth 
good,  they  eat  up  my  people  as  bread,'  &c.  They  make  no  more  bones  of 
devouring  men  and  their  estates,  than  they  make  conscience  of  eating  a 
piece  of  bread.  What  a  wretched  condition  hath  sin  brought  man  unto, 
that  the  great  God  who  '  fiUeth  heaven  and  earth,'  Jer.  xxiii.  24,  should  yet 
have  no  place  in  the  heart  which  he  hath  especially  made  for  himself !  The 
sun  is  not  so  clear  as  this  truth,  that  God  is,  for  all  things  in  the  world  are 
because  God  is.  If  he  were  not,  nothing  could  be.  It  is  from  him  that 
wicked  men  have  that  strength  they  have  t«.  commit  sin,  therefore  sin  pro- 
ceeds from  atheism,  especially  these  plotting  sins ;  for  if  God  were  more 
thought  on,  he  would  take  off  the  soul  from  sinful  contrivings,  and  fix  it 
upon  himself. 

But  by  whom  and  against  whom  was  this  plotting  ?  by  childi-en  of  the 
church,  not  uncircumcised  Philistines.  Opposition  is  bitterest  betwixt  those 
that  are  nearest,  as  betwixt  the  flesh  and  the  spirit  in  the  same  soul,  between 
hypocrites  and  true-hearted  Christians  in  the  same  womb  of  the  church. 
Brethren  they  were,  but  false  brethren  ;  children,  but  strange  children. 
Children  by  the  mother's  side,  all  bred  in  the  same  church,  but  had  not  the 
same  father.  Children  by  the  mother's  side  only,  are  commonly  persecutors. 
Popish  spirits  count  it  presumption  to  know  who  is  their  father,  which  shews 
them  to  be  bastard  children.  The  greatest  sins  of  all  are  committed  within 
the  church,  because  they  are  committed  against  the  greatest  light ;  where- 
upon that  great  sin  against  the  Holy  Ghost  (which,  like  Jonah  his  whale, 
devours  aU  at  once)  is  not  committed  out  of  the  church  at  all.  Oh !  be- 
loved, how  should  we  reverence  the  blessed  truth  of  God  and  gi'acious 
motions  of  his  Spirit !  If  it  be  sin  to  kill  infants  in  the  womb,  what  is  it  to 
kill  the  breed  of  the  blessed  Spirit  in  our  hearts  ! 

But  against  whom  was  this  plot  directed  ?  Even  against  David,  a  pro- 
phet and  a  king,  a  kingly  prophet,  a  man  after  God's  own  heart,  1  Sam. 
xiii.  14 ;  Acts  xiii.  22,  though  not  according  to  theirs ;  a  sacred  person, 
and  therefore  inviolable.  '  Touch  not  mine  anointed,  and  do  my  psophets  no 
harm,'  Ps.  cv.  15,  was  a  prohibition  from  heaven.  David  was  a  man  emi- 
nent in  goodness,  and  goodness  invested  in  greatness  is  a  fair  mark  for 
envy  to  shoot  at.  What  men  for  sloth  care  not  to  do,  for  weakness  cannot, 
or  for  pride  wiU  not,  imitate,  that  they  malign,  sitting  cursing  and  fretting 
at  the  bottom  of  the  hiU,  at  those  which  they  see  go  above  them,  whose  hfe 
giveth  witness  against  them.  When  goodness  shines  forth,  it  presently 
meets  with  envy,  until  it  come  to  the  height  to  be  above  envy,  as  the  sun 
at  the  highest  hath  no  shadow.  Envy  hath  an  ill  eye.  It  cannot  look  on 
goodness  without  grief.  The  spirit  that  is  in  us  lusteth  after  envy.  Pur- 
suing of  goodness  in  men,  and  men  for  goodness,  is  a  sin  of  a  deep  dye, 


800  THE  saint's  safety  in  evil  times. 

because  whosoever  hates  a  man  for  goodness,  hates  goodness"  itself;  and 
he  that  hates  goodness  itself  hates  it  most  in  the  fountain,  and  so  becomes 
a  hater  of  God  himself;  and  if  Christ  were  in  such  a  man's  power  he  should 
escape  no  better  than  his  members  do.  For  Christ  is  joined  either  in  love 
or  hatred  with  his  cause  and  children.  He  and  his  have  common  friends 
and  common  enemies.  Men  think  they  have  to  deal  with  siUy  men,  but  they 
shall  one  day  find  that  they  have  to  deal  with  the  great  Lord  of  heaven  and 
earth. 

But  what  was  the  manner  of  cairying  their  design  ?  This  cruel  plot  was 
cuimingly  carried,  for  they  kill  him  in  his  good  name  first,  and  accuse  him 
as  an  enemy  to  the  state,  that  so  their  slanders  may  make  way  for  violence. 
Satan  is  a  liar  first,  and  then  a  murderer,  yea  therefore  a  liar  that  he  may 
be  a  murderer  the  better.  He  is  first  a  serpent,  then  a  har ;  and  first  a 
lion  couchant,  then  a  lion  rampant.  He  teaches  his  scholars  the  same 
method.  Cruelty  marcheth  furiously,  and  under  warrant  with  privilege, 
when  it  hath  slander  to  countenance  it.  Taint  men  once  in  the  opinion  of 
the  world,  and  then  they  lie  open  to  any  usage.  It  is  not  only  safe  but 
glorious  to  oppose  such,  and  thus  virtue  comes  to  have  the  reward  due  to 
wickedness,  and  passes  under  pubUc  hatred.  The  open  cause  and  pretence 
is  one,  and  the  inward  moving  cause  another,  which  perhaps  hes  hid  till  the 
day  of '  revelation  of  the  secrets  of  aU  flesh,'  Rom.  ii.  5,  as  in  a  clock  the  wheels 
and  the  hand  appear  openly,  but  the  weights  that  move  all  are  out  of  sight. 

But  what  com-se  took  David  herein  ?  Innocency  was  his  best  apology, 
and  when  that  would  not  do,  then  patience.  He  saw  God  in  the  wrongs 
he  sufiered,  '  God  bade  Shimei,'  &c.,  2  Sam.  xvi.  10.  But  this  invites 
more  injuries,  therefore  by  prayer  he  lays  open  his  soul  to  God.  David's 
prayer  prevailed  more  in  heaven  than  Ahithophel's  policy  could  do  on  earth. 
Carnal  men  are  pregnant  and  fiiU  of  wiles  and  fetches*  to  secure  themselves, 
but  godly  men  have  one  only  refuge  and  hiding-place,  yet  that  is  a  great 
one,  namely,  to  rim  to  God  by  prayer,  as  to  their  rock  and  tower  of  defence 
in  their  distresses.  From  all  this  that  hath  been  said  there  ariseth  these 
conclusions : — 

First,  that  even  the  test  of  God's  saints  are  liable  to  be  the  subjects  of  the 
plots  of  wicked  men.  (1.)  From  an  antipathy  between  the  two  contrary 
seeds  in  them.  (2.)  Because  God  will  not  have  his  children  love  the 
world,  therefore  he  sufiers  the  world  to  hate  them.  (3.)  They  are  strangers 
here,  and  therefore  no  wonder  if  they  find  strange  entertainment  from  them 
that  think  themselves  at  home.  There  hath  ever  been  from  the  beginning 
of  the  world  a  continual  conspiracy  of  Satan  and  his  instruments  against 
God  and  goodness.  Emperors  and  kings  became  Christians,  but  Satan 
never  yet  became  a  Christian,  but  hath  always  bestirred  himself  to  maintain 
the  first  division,  and  never  yet  wanted  a  strong  faction  in  the  world. 

Secondly,  observe  that  it  is  the  character  of  a  man  wicked  in  an  high  degree, 
to  contrive  wickedness.  The  reason  is :  (1.)  Because  it  is  a  disposition  of 
such  as  are  given  up  by  God  to  a  reprobate  sense,  audit  is  reckoned  among 
other  vile  sins,  that  they  are  fall  of  maliciousness,  and  inventors  of  ill,  &c. 
A  son  of  Belial  carries  a  froward  heart  and  devises  mischief,  Prov.  vi.  14. 
(2.)  It  shews  that  malice  is  so  connatural  to  such,  that  they  cannot  sleep 
unless  they  cause  some  to  fall ;  '  wickedness  comes  from  the  wicked  '  (as 
naturally  and  speedily),  Prov.  iv.  16,  as  poison  from  a  spider.  (3.)  It 
argues  such  kind  of  men  work  out  of  a  vicious  habit,  which  is  a  stamping 
of  a  second  lU  nature  upon  the  former,  whenas  their  hearts  are  exercised 
*  That  is,  '  artifices.' — G. 


THE  saint's  safety  IN  EVIL  TIMES.  801 

to  do  mischief.  (4.)  It  shews  they  are  of  the  devil's  trade,  whose  only 
work  is  to  hurt  and  mischief  all  he  can,  those  that  are  broken  loose  from 
him.  Certainly  such  people  as  these  are  the  children  of  the  devil  in  an 
higher  degree  than  ordinary.  It  is  said,  when  Judas  began  to  betray  Christ, 
*  ttie  devil  entered  into  him,'  Luke  xxii.  3.  He  was  the  child  of  the  devil  in 
Bome  degree  before,  but  now  the  devil  took  stronger  possession  of  him ;  his 
unnatural  treason  did  in  some  sort  change  him  into  the  very  form  of  the 
devil.  When  Simon  Magus  sought  to  turn  away  the  deputy  from  the  faith, 
St  Paul  had  no  fitter  terms  for  him  than  to  style  him, '  Thou  full  of  all  subtlety 
and  mischief,  and  child  of  the  devil,'  Acts  xiii.  10.  And  indeed  there  is  no 
disposition  so  contrary  to  the  sweet  Spirit  of  God,  which  is  a  Spirit  of  love 
and  goodness,  as  this  is. 

Use  1.  Learn  hence  therefore,  as  you  love  God,  to  abhor  this  hateful  disposi- 
tion. The  serpent  indeed  was  '  wiser  than  all  the  beasts  of  the  field,'  Gen.  iii.  1, 
yet  when  he  became  an  instrument  of  mischief,  he  was  cursed  above  all  the 
rest.  Gen.  iii.  14.  Satan  labours  to  serve  his  turn  of  the  bestwits ;  but  what 
greater  curse  can  befal  a  man  than  to  serve  the  basest  creature  in  the  basest 
service,  and  that  with  our  best  abilities  ?  Men  of  a  deviUsh  spirit  carry  God's 
curse  under  zeal,*  yea,  they  carry  the  devil  in  their  brain,  in  all  their  works 
of  darkness  ;  for,  alas,  what  should  the  subtlety  of  foxes,  and  fierceness  of 
lions,  and  malice  of  devils  do,  in  an  heart  dedicated  to  Christ  ?  Such  men 
work  from  a  double  principle,  the  illness  of  their  own  disposition  within, 
and  Satan  going  with  the  tide  of  that,  whose  chief  labour  is  to  make  a  prey 
of  men  of  the  best  parts,  that  by  them  he  may  either  snare  others,  or  else 
vex  them  that  have  so  much  wit  or  grace  as  not  to  be  catched  by  his  baits. 
This  is  a  course  contrary  to  humanity  as  we  are  men,  contrary  to  ingenuityf 
as  we  are  civil  men,  and  contrary  to  reUgion  as  we  are  Christian  men,  and 
plainly  argueth  that  such  persons  are  led  with  another  spirit  than  their 
own,  even  by  the  prince  that  ruleth  in  the  air. 

Our  care  and  duty,  therefore,  should  be  to  submit  our  spirits  to  the 
sweet  guidance  and  government  of  God's  good  Spirit,  to  be  contented  that 
every  device  and  imagination  of  our  hearts  should  be  captivated  to  higher 
and  better  reasons  than  our  own. 

We  are  not  wise  enough  of  ourselves  that  our  own  wills  and  wit  should 
be  our  first  movers.  Everything  is  perfected  by  subjection  to  a  superior ; 
where  there  should  be  a  subordination  to  higher  wisdom,  there  to  withdraw 
our  understanding  and  wiUs,  is  mere  rebellion.  That  which  the  prophet 
speaks  is  too  true  of  many  in  these  days,  '  Thy  wisdom  hatli  made  thee  to 
xebel,'  Is.  xlvii.  10.     Such  are  too  wise  to  be  saved. 

Use  2.  We  need  not  be  ashamed  to  learn  some  things  of  our  very  enemies. 
If  they  be  so  pragmatical  for  evil,  why  should  not  we  be  as  active  for  good  ? 
I  am  sure  we  serve  a  better  Master.  True  love  is  full  of  inventions  ;  it  wiU 
be  devising  of  good  things.  So  soon  as  ever  our  nature  is  changed,  the 
stream  of  the  soul  is  tm-ned  another  way,  the  bent  of  it  is  for  God.  Alas, 
it  is  a  small  commendation  to  be  only  passively  good,  and  it  is  a  poor  ex- 
cuse to  be  only  passively  ill.  A  good  Christian  thinks  it  not  enough  to  see 
good  done  by  others,  but  labours  to  have  a  hand  in  it  himself ;  and  he  that 
sufiers  evil  to  be  done,  which  he  might  have  opposed  and  hindered,  brings 
the  guilt  thereof  upon  his  own  head.  '  Curse  you  Meroz,'  saith  God,  '  for 
not  helping  the  Lord  against  the  mighty,'  &c.,  Jud.  v.  23.  What  shall  we 
think  then  of  those  that  help  the  mighty  against  the  Lord,  that  cast  oil  to 
kindle  where  they  should  cast  water  to  quench,  that  inflame  the  rage  of 
*  Qu. '  seal  ?' — Ed.  t  That  is,  '  ingenuousness.' — Ed. 


302  THE  saint's  safety  in  evil  times. 

great  persons,  when  they  should  labour  to  reduce  all  to  a  moderation  ?  Of 
this  spirit  was  that  apostate  which  stirred  up  the  emperor  to  kill  man, 
woman,  and  child  of  the  Protestants,  with  all  their  kindred  and  alliance, 
fearing  lest  any  living  should  revenge  the  other's  quarrel.* 

We  see  God  hath  stooped  so  low  as  to  commend  his  cause  unto  us,  as 
if  he  stood  in  need  of  our  help,  and  usually  what  good  he  doth  to  us  is 
conveyed  by  men  like  ourselves  ;  therefore,  we  should  labour  to  appear  on 
his  side,  and  own  his  cause  and  children.  In  the  house  of  God  there  be 
vessels  of  all  kinds.  Some  are  of  more  honourable  use  than  others.  Some 
make  the  very  times  and  places  good  where  they  live,  by  an  influence  of 
good.  Others,  as  malignant  planets,  threaten  misery  and  desolation  where- 
ever  they  come.  These  are  the  calamities  of  the  times.  Men  may  know 
whether  they  be  vessels  of  mercy  or  no,  by  the  use  they  are  put  to  ;  the 
basest  of  people  are  fit  enough  to  be  executioners  ;  the  worst  of  men  are 
good  enough  to  be  rods  of  God's  wrath.  How  much  better  is  it  to  be  full 
of  goodness,  as  the  Scripture  speaks  of  Josiah  and  Hezekiah,  &c. !  Indeed, 
what  is  a  man,  but  his  goodness  ?  Such  men  live  desired,  and  die  lamented. 
Yea,  their  very  '  name  is  as  the  ointment  of  the  apothecary  poured  out,' 
Cant.  i.  3.     They  leave  a  sweet  savour  in  the  church  behind  them. 

Now  I  come  to  their  miscarriage.  They  brought  forth  a  lie ;  a  lie  in 
regard  of  their  expectation,  their  hopes  deceiving  them,  but  a  just  defeating 
in  regard  of  God.  It  was  contraiy  to  their  desire,  but  agreeable  to  God's 
justice.  Neither  were  they  disappointed  only  so  as  to  miss  of  what  they 
intended,  but  they  met  with  that  misery  they  intended  not;  yea,  even  with 
that  very  misery  which  they  thought  to  bring  upon  David. 

This  defeating  ariseth  by  five  steps:  1,  they  were  disappointed;  2,  they 
fell  into  danger;  3,  they  were  contrivers  of  this  danger  themselves;  4, 
there  was  a  penal  proportion,  thej  fell  into  the  same  danger  which  they 
plotted  for  another;  5,  they  were  a  means  of  doing  good  to  him  whom 
they  devised  evil  against ;  and  raised  him,  whom  they  thought  to  pull 
down.  David  sped  the  better  for  Shimei's  malice,  and  Ahithophel's  policy. 
See  all  these  five  likewise  in  the  example  of  Haman  and  Mordecai.  1, 
Haman  missed  of  his  plot ;  2,  he  fell  into  danger ;  3,  he  fell  into  the  same 
danger  which  he  contrived  himself;  4,  he  fell  into  the  same  danger  which 
he  contrived  for  Mordecai ;  and  5,  was  the  means  of  Mordecai' s  advance- 
ment. It  had  been  enough  to  have  woven  a  spider's  web,  which  is  done 
with  a  great  deal  of  art,  and  yet  comes  to  nothing ;  but  to  hatch  a  cocka- 
trice's egg,  that  brings  forth  a  viper  which  stings  to  death,  this  is  a  double 
vexation.  Yet  thus  God  delighteth  to  catch  the  'wise  in  the  imagination  of 
their  own  hearts,'  Luke  i.  51,  and  to  pay  them  in  their  own  coin.  The 
wicked  carry  a  lie  in  their  right  hand ;  for  they  trust  in  man,  which  is  but 
a  lie ;  and,  being  hars  themselves  too,  no  marvel  if  their  hopes  prove  de- 
ceitful, so  that,  while  they  sow  the  wind,  they  reap  the  whirlwind,  Hosea 
viii.  7. 

Reason.  (1.)  The  reason  of  God's  dealing  in  this  kind  i^,  first,  in  regard 
of  himself.  God  wiU  not  lose  the  glory  of  any  of  his  attributes ;  he  will 
be  known  to  be  God  only  wise,  and  this  he  will  let  appear,  then  especially, 
when  wicked  men  think  to  overreach  him. 

(2.)  Secondly,  in  regard  of  his  tender  care  over  his  children,  they  are  as 
the  apple  of  his  eye ;  and  as  they  are  very  near,  so  they  are  very  dear  to 
him.  They  cost  him  dear ;  they  are  his  jewels,  and  he  gave  a  Jewel  of  in- 
finite price  for  them.  He  is  interested  in  their  quarrels,  and  they  in  his. 
*  Qu.  '  Massacre  of  St  Bartholomew,  1572?'— G. 


THE  saint's  safety  IN  EVIL  TIMES.  80ft- 

If  they  be  in  any  misery,  God's  bowels  yearn  for  them.  He  is  always 
awake,  and  never  slumbereth,  as  we  see  in  the  parable,  the  master  of  the 
house  waked  while  the  servants  slept,  Mat.  xxv.  1,  et  seq.  God's  eye  is  upon 
them  for  good.  He  hath  them  written  in  the  '  palms  of  his  hands,  Isa.  xlix. 
16.  Christ  carries  them  always  in  his  breast.  Christ,  who  is  the  husband 
of  his  church,  is  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth,  and  hath  all  power  committed 
to  him.  Mat.  xxviii.  18,  John  xvii.  2,  and  will  rule  in  the  midst  of  his  ene- 
mies. He  is  the  only  Monarch  of  the  world,  and  makes  both  all  things 
and  persons  serviceable  to  his  own  end  and  his  church's  good.  He  is 
higher  than  the  highest.  Satan,  the  god  of  the  world,  2  Cor.  iv.  4,  is  but  his 
and  his  church's  slave.    All  things  are  the  church's,  to  farther  its  best  good. 

(3.)  Another  reason  is,  the  insolence  of  the  enemies,  whose  fierceness  turns 
at  length  to  God's  praise,  Ps.  ix.  16 ;  for  as  he  is  a  just  Lord,  so  he  will 
be  known  to  be  so  by  executing  of  judgment.  It  shall  appear  that  there 
is  '  a  God  that  judgeth  the  earth,'  Ps.  Iviii.  11. 

(4.)  Again,  God's  children  will  give  him  no  rest.  When  he  seems  to 
sleep,  they  will  awake  him  with  their  prayers.  '  They  will  not  let  him  go  with- 
out a  blessing  from  him,'  Gen.  xxxii.  26.  They  will  prevail  by  importunity, 
as  the  widow  in  the  gospel,  Luke  xviii.  5.  Having  to  deal  with  a  just  God, 
in  a  just  cause,  against  common  enemies,  his  as  well  as  theirs,  they  bind 
him  with  his  own  promises ;  and  he  is  content  to  be  bound,  because  he 
hath  bound  himself  first.  He  will  not  lose  that  part  of  his  title  whereby 
he  is  known  to  be  a  '  God  hearing  prayers,'  Ps.  Ixv.  2. 

Ohj.  But  it  will  be  objected  that  wicked  men  do  not  only  set  themselves 
against  the  people  of  God,  but  prevail  over  them,  even  to  the  scorn  of  the 
beholders.  TuUy  could  say  '  The  gods  shew  how  much  they  esteem  of  the 
Jewish  nation,  by  suffering  them  so  often  to  be  conquered.'  *  Hath  not  anti- 
christ a  long  time  prevailed,  and  was  it  not  foretold  that  the  beast  should 
prevail?  Rev.  xiii.     Where  is,  then,  the  bringing  forth  of  a  lie  ? 

Ans.  I  answer,  (l.)the  enemies  have  power,  but  no  more  than  is  given  them 
of  God,  as  Chi'ist  answered  PUate,  John  xix.  11.  They  prevail  indeed,  but 
it  is  for  a  time,  a  limited  time,  and  that  a  short  one  too,  ten  days,  &c..  Rev. 
ii.  10:  and  what  is  this  to  that  vast  time  of  their  torment  ?  The  time  wiU 
come,  when  there  shall  be  no  more  time  for  them  to  persecute  in. 

(2.)  Besides,  even  when  they  do  prevail,  it  is  but  over  part  only,  not 
over  the  whole.  They  prevail  over  persons,  it  may  be,  not  over  the  cause : 
that  stands  impregnable.  They  pievail  over  men's  Hves,  perhaps,  but  not 
over  their  spirits,  which  is  that  they  chiefly  aim  at.  A  true  Christian 
conquers  when  he  is  conquered.  Stephen  prevailed  over  his  enemies  when 
they  seemed  to  prevail  over  him.  God  put  glory  upon  him,  and  a  spirit 
of  glory  into  him.  Acts  vii. 

(3.)  The  chm-ch's  enemies  may  prevail  in  some  place,  but  then,  as  the 
sea,  they  lose  in  another.  The  more  they  cut  down  God's  people,  as 
Pharaoh  did  the  Israelites,  the  more  they  multiply ;  and  the  more  they  are 
kept  straight,!  the  more  they  spread  and  are  enlarged.  God  suffers  the 
enemies  of  his  truth  to  prevail,  in  some  passages,  to  harden  their  hearts 
the  more  for  destruction,  as  Pharaoh  prevailed  in  oppressing  the  Israelites, 

*  This  is  one  of  only  two  notices  of  the  Jews,  that  are  found  in  the  voluminous 
works  of  Cicero.  It  occurs  in  Orat.  Pro  L.  Flacco,  c.  28.  As  Sibbes  rather  para- 
phrases than  translates,  the  true  and  vivid  original  may  be  given  : — '.  .  .  .  Nuncvero 
hoc  magis,  quod  ilia  gens,  quid  de  imperio,  nostro  sentiret  ostendit  armis  ;  quam  cara 
Diis  immortalibus  esset,  docuit,  quod  est  victa,  quod  elocata,  quod  servata.' — G. 

t  Qu.  '  strait  ?'— Ed. 


304  THE  saint's  safety  in  evil  times. 

and  Herod  in  killing  John,  &c.  But  yet,  lay  the  beginning  and  the  end 
together,  and  then  we  shall  see  they  prevailed  not,  and  so  far  as  they  did 
prevail,  it  tended  only  to  hasten  their  own  ruin,  because  the  present  success 
lifts  up  the  heart.  We  see  antichrist  prevailed,  but  spiritually,  only  over 
those  '  whose  names  were  not  written  in  the  Lamb's  book  of  Ufe,'  Rev.  xiii.  7, 
and  outwardly  over  the  saints  ;  for  so  it  was  prefixed.  Rev.  xviii.  24,  that 
he  should  make  icar  with  the  saints,  and  overcome  them :  and  this  was  ob- 
jected as  a  fiery  dart  against  the  Christians  in  those  times,  that  therefore 
they  might  think  their  cause  naught,  because  they  were  so  prevailed  over  ;* 
but  they,  by  help  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  understood  so  much  of  the 
Revelation  as  concerned  themselves,  and  used  this  as  a  weapon,  confessing 
that  they  were  the  conquered  people  of  God,  but  yet  the  people  of  God 
still.  But  the  chief  stay  and  satisfaction  of  the  soul  herein,  is  to  look  to 
the  day  of  the  righteous  judgment  of  God,  when  we  shall  see  all  promises 
performed,  all  threatenings  executed,  and  aU  enemies  trodden  f  jr  ever  under 
Chi-ist  and  his  church's  feet. 

Use  1.  This  is  a  point  of  marvellous  comfort,  when  Israel  can  say, '  They 
have  afllicted  me  from  my  youth,  but  yet  they  have  not  prevailed  over  me,'  Ps. 
cxxix.  1.  The  gates  of  hell  may  set  themselves  against  the  church,  but  shall 
not  prevail.  The  church  is  not  ruled  by  man's  counsel.  We  neither  live 
nor  die  at  man's  appointment.  Our  Uves  are  not  in  our  own  hands,  or 
Satan's,  or  our  enemies',  but  in  God's.  They  can  do  no  more,  they  shall 
do  no  less,  than  God  will,  who  is  our  life,  and  the  length  of  our  days.  God 
may  give  way  a  while,  that  the  '  thoughts  of  many  may  be  revealed,'  Luke  ii. 
35,  and  that  his  glory  may  shine  the  more  in  raising  his  children,  and 
confounding  his  enemies ;  but  he  wiU  put  a  period  in  his  due  time,  and 
that  is  the  best  time.  There  is  a  day  of  Jacob's  trouble,  when  his  enemies 
say,  '  This  is  Sion,  whom  none  regards,'  Jer.  xxx.  7 ;  but  God  sets  bounds 
both  to  the  time  of  his  children's  trouble,  and  to  the  malice  of  the  wicked. 
'  Their  rod  shall  not  rest  over-long  upon  the  back  of  the  righteous,'  Ps.  cxxv.  3. 
God  will  put  a  hook  into  the  nostrils  of  these  leviathans,  and  draw  them 
which  way  he  pleaseth. 

Use  2.  Again,  we  see  here  that  mischievous  attempts  are  successless  in  the 
end;  for  did  ever  any  harden  themselves  against  God  and  prosper  long? 
Let  Cain  speak,  let  Pharaoh,  Haman,  Ahithophel,  Herod;  let  the  persecutors 
of  the  church  for  the  fii'st  two  hundred  years ;  let  aU  that  ever  bore  ill-wiU 
towards  Sion,  speak,  and  they  will  confess  they  didj  but  kick  against  the 
pricks,  and  dash  against  the  rocks.  The  greatest  torment  of  the  damned 
spirit  is,  that  God  turns  all  his  plots  for  the  good  of  those  he  hates  most. 
He  tempted  man  to  desire  to  become  like  God,  Gen  iii.  5,  that  so  he  might 
ruin  him ;  but  God  became  man,  and  so  restored  him.  God  serveth  him- 
self of  this  archpolitician  and  all  his  instruments ;  they  are  but  executioners 
of  God's  will  while  they  rush  against  it.  Joseph's  brethren  sold  him  that 
they  might  not  worship  him,  and  that  was  the  very  means  whereby  they  came 
at  length  to  worship  him.  God  delights  to  take  the  oppressed  party's  part. 
Wicked  men  cannot  do  God's  children  a  greater  pleasure  than  to  oppose 
them,  for  by  this  means  they  help  to  advance  them. 

Why  wicked  plots  miscarry.  The  ground  of  the  miscarriage  of  wicked 
plots  is,  that  Satan  and  his,  maintain  a  damned  cause,  and  their  plots  are 
under  a  curse.  Every  one  that  prays,  '  Thy  kingdom  come,'  prays  by  con- 
sequence against  them  as  opposers  of  it ;  and  how  can  the  men  and  plots 
of  so  many  curses  but  miscarry,  and  prove  but  as  the  untimely  fruit  of  a 

*  Cicero,  ante. — G. 


THE  SAINT*S  SAFETY  IN  EVIL  TIMES.  805 

woman?  They  are  like  the  grass  on  the  house-top,  which  perks  above  the 
corn  in  the  field,  but  yet  no  man  prays  for  a  blessing  upon  it.  When  men 
come  by  a  goodly  corn-field,  every  one  is  ready  to  say,  God  bless  this  field, 
&c.  Beloved,  it  is  a  heavier  thing  than  atheistical  spirits  think  of,  to  be 
under  the  curse  of  the  church ;  for  as  God  blesseth  out  of  Sion,  so  usually 
the  heaviest  curses  come  out  of  Sion.  Woe  be  to  the  Herods  and  Julians  of 
the  world,  when  the  church,  either  directly  or  indirectly,  prays  against  them. 

Use  3.  This  is  a  ground  of  staying  the  souls  of  God's  people  in  seeming 
confusion  of  things.  There  is  an  harmony  in  all  this  discord.  God  ia 
fitting  his  people  for  a  better  condition  even  when  they  are  at  the  worst, 
and  is  hardening  and  preparing  the  wicked  for  confusion,  even  when  they 
arc  at  the  best.  '  The  wicked  practise  against  the  righteous,  but  God  laugheth 
them  to  scorn,'  Ps.  ii.  4;  for  he  seeth  all  their  plottings,  and  his  day  is 
a-coming.  Whilst  they  are  digging  pits  for  others,  there  is  a  pit  a-digging 
and  a  grave  a-making  for  themselves.  They  have  a  measure  to  make  up, 
and  a  treasure  to  fill,  which  at  length  will  be  broken  open,  which,  methinks, 
should  take  off  them  which  are  set  upon  mischief  from  pleasing  themselves 
in  their  plots.  Alas !  they  are  but  plotting  their  own  ruin,  and  building  a 
Babel  which  will  fall  upon  their  own  heads.  If  there  were  any  commendation 
in  plotting,  then  that  great  plotter  of  plotters,  that  great  engineer,  Satan, 
would  go  beyond  us  all,  and  take  all  the  credit  from  us.  But  let  us  not 
envy  Satan  and  his  in  their  glory.  They  had  need  of  something  to  com- 
fort them.  Let  them  please  themselves  with  their  trade.  The  day  is 
coming  wherein  the  daughter  of  Sion  shall  laugh  them  to  scorn.  There 
will  be  a  time  wherein  it  shall  be  said,  '  Arise,  Sion,  and  thrash,'  Micah  iv. 
13.  And  usually  the  delivery  of  God's  children  is  joined  with  the  destruc- 
tion of  his  enemies  ;  Saul's  death,  and  I/avid's  deliverance ;  the  Israelites' 
deliverance,  and  Egyptians'  drowning.  The  church  and  her  opposites  are 
hke  the  scales  of  a  balance ;  when  one  goes  up,  the  other  goes  down. 

Haman's  wife  had  learned  this,  that  if  her  husband  began  once  to  fall 
before  the  Jews,  he  should  surely  fall.  Wicked  men  have  an  hour,  and  they 
will  be  sure  to  take  it;  and  God  hath  his  hour  too,  and  wiU  be  as  sure 
to  take  that.  The  judgments  of  the  wicked  are  mercies  to  the  church. 
So  saith  David,  '  He  slew  mighty  kings,  Og  king  of  Bashan,  for  his  mercy 
endureth  for  ever,'  &c.,  Ps.  cxxxvi.  20. 

God  hath  but  two  things  in  the  world  that  he  much  regardeth  ;  his  truth, 
and  his  church,  begotten  by  his  truth  ;*  and  shall  we  think  that  he  will  suffer 
long,  wretched  men  who  turn  that  wit  and  power  which  they  have  from  him 
against  his  truth  and  chui-ch  ?  No,  assuredly ;  but  he  will  give  them  up 
by  that  very  wit  of  theirs,  to  work  their  own  destruction;  they  shall  serve 
their  turn  most  whom  they  hate  most.  God  sits  in  heaven,  and  laughs 
them  to  scorn.  Shall  God  laugh,  and  we  cry?  They  take  counsel  to- 
gether on  earth,  but  God  hath  a  counsel  in  heaven  that  will  overthrow  all 
their  counsels  here.  Mark  the  bitter  expressions  in  Scripture,  '  Why  do  the 
heathen  rage,'  Ps.  ii.  1,  without  fear  or  wit?  'Go  to  now,  saith  God, 
gather  a  council,'  &c.,  Isa.  viii.  9.  Beloved,  it  goes  to  the  heart  of 
proud  persons  to  be  scorned,  especially  in  the  miscarriage  of  that  which 
they  count  then*  masterpiece ;  they  had  rather  be  counted  devils  than 
fools.  Let  us  icork  ivisely,  saith  Pharaoh,  when  he  was  never  more  fool, 
Exod.   ii.   10.     They  usurp   upon   God,  and   promise   themselves   great 

*  '  God  hath  but  two  things,'  &c.  This  sentiment,  which  is  repeated  in  the  '  Foun- 
tain Sealed,'  is  quoted  by  Bishop  Patrick  in  his  '  Friendly  Debate,'  against  Bridge. 
See  Taylor's  edition  of  Patrick,  vol.  v.  pp.  509-10. — G. 

VOL.  I.  U 


306  THE  SAINT  S  SAEET'S  IN  EVIL  TIMES. 

matters  for  the  time  to  come,  whereas  that  is  only  God's  prerogative, 
and  they  neither  know  what  the  womb  of  their  counsels,  nor  what  the 
womb  of  to-morrow,  may  bring  forth.  That  which  they  are  big  of  may 
prove  an  abortive,  or  a  viper  to  consume  the  womb  that  bred  it.  '  Go  to 
now,'  saith  the  prophet,  '  all  ye  that  kindle  a  fire:  walk  in  the  light  of  your 
fire,  but  take  this  of  me,  you  shall  lie  down  in  sorrow,'  &c.,  Isa.  li.  11.  The 
Scripture  is  full  of  such  expostulations  and  upbraidings.  '  Man  is  become 
Like  one  of  us,  saith  God,'  Gen.  iii.  22.  When  men  will  have  a  way  of  their 
own,  and  think  themselves  wiser  than  God,  then  it  stands  upon  God's 
honour  to  outwit  them.  '  Yet  God  is  wise,'  saith  the  prophet,  Isa.  xxxi.  2. 
You  think  to  go  beyond  God.  Deceive  not  yourselves.  God  is  wise,  and 
you  shall  find  him  to  be  so.  He  hath  a  way  to  go  beyond  you.  Do  not 
many  men  spin  a  fine  thread,  and  weave  a  fair  web,  when  by  their  turnings 
and  devices  they  turn  themselves  into  hell  ?  '  Woe  be  to  them  that  dig  deep,' 
saith  the  prophet,  '  and  think  to  hide  their  counsels  from  the  Lord,'  Hosea  ix. 
2,  3.  God  hath  an  eye  to  see  into  the  most  secret  and  dark  conveyances 
of  business.  God  hath  a  key  to  open  the  closet  of  their  hearts,  let  them  be 
never  so  close  locked  up.  Oh,  that  men  would  more  fear  this  all-seeing 
eye  of  God,  and  be  wise  for  themselves,  and  not  against  themselves.  It  is 
a  miserable  wisdom  when  men  are  wise  to  work  their  own  ruin.  Beloved, 
when  men  have  had  all  their  plots,  God  hath  a  plot  still  beyond  them.  He 
takes  them  failing  in  something  or  other.  Their  devices  are  like  a  curious 
clock;  if  the  least  thing  be  out  of  frame,  all  is  marred.  God  suffers  them 
to  spin  a  fine  thread  a  great  while,  and  at  length  cuts  the  web,  and  there  is 
an  end.  And  they  may  thank  themselves  for  all  this,  for  they  carry  a 
justification  of  God  in  their  own  breasts.  They  perish  because  they  will 
perish ;  and  this  will  be  the  torment  of  all  torments  to  graceless  persons, 
that  they  pulled  destruction  upon  themselves.  Malice  blinds  the  under- 
standing in  Satan  and  his  instruments ;  for,  if  their  malice  were  not  above 
their  wit,  would  they,  to  gratify  their  ill  afiections,  knowingly  rush  into  the 
displeasure  of  God,  and  into  such  coui'ses  as  will  unavoidably  bring  their 
ruin?  Malice  drinks  up  the  greatest  part  of  its  own  poison.  '  His  own 
iniquity  shall  take  the  wicked  himself,'  saith  Solomon,  '  and  he  shall  be  holden 
with  the  cords  of  his  own  sin,'  Prov.  v.  22. 

This  may  be  enlarged  to  all  sinfiil  courses.  Every  sinner  worketh  a 
deceitful  work,  and  hringetli  forth  a  lie.  Augustine  saith  well,  every  sin  is  a 
lie  (a).  Men  would  be  happy,  yet  they  will  not  live  so  as  they  may  be  happy  ; 
what  more  deceitful  than  this  ?  It  will  be  the  complaint  of  every  sinner  at 
length,  that  was  Eve's,  the  '  serpent  hath  deceived  me,'  Gen.  iii.  13.  It  was 
St  Paul's  complaint,  Rom.  viii.  8,  and  it  wiU  be  the  complaint  of  all  sinful 
wretches  at  the  last  day.  What  hath  pride  profited  us  ?  what  can  the 
favour  of  men,  upon  whom  we  bear  ourselves,  do  us  good  now  ?  Sin  pro- 
miseth  us  contentment,  continuance,  secresy,  full  satisfaction,  &c.,  but  doth 
it  make  good  this  ?  Were  ever  any,  when  the  beginning  and  ending  was  laid 
together,  estabHshed  by  wickedness  ?  Take  it  from  God  himself  (we  have 
a  commission  to  speak  it),'  Say,  it  shall  not  go  well  with  the  wicked,  though 
they  escape  an  hundred  times,'  Eccl.  viii.  12, 13,  yet  it  is  but  a  reprieval  for 
some  further  service  which  God  hath  to  do  by  them.  '  Be  not  deceived,  God 
is  not  mocked,'  Gal.  vi.  7.  When  we  can  be  more  subtle  than  the  devil,  or 
more  strong  than  God,  we  may  think  to  thrive  by  sin.  Can  we  think  God 
will  alter  the  course  of  divine  justice  for  us  ?  had  we  not  better  believe  this 
than  find  it  so  hereafter  ?  Beloved,  hell  is  for  those  to  feel  that  will  not 
believe.     Certain  it  is,  that  those  who  will  sin,  notwithstanding   God's 


THE  saint's  safety  IN  EVIL  TIMES.  307 

justice,  shall  be  severely  punished,  notwithstanding  his  mercy.  God  is  not 
more  peremptory  in  any  one  thing  than  in  this,  '  If  any  man  bless  himself  in 
an  ill  way,  my  wrath  shaU  smoke  against  him,'  Deut.  xxix.  19,  20  ;  there- 
fore it  is  a  good  prayer,  Lord,  give  me  not  over  to  lying,  that  is,  not  to  trust 
in  that  which  will  lie  and  deceive  me. 

This  is  the  unhappiness  of  us  ministers,  all  other  professions  are  believed 
when  they  discover  danger,  but  '  who  believeth  our  report? '  Isa.  liii.  1.  We 
are  men's  '  enemies,  because  we  tell  them  the  truth,'  Gal.  iv.  16 ;  we  labour  to 
take  away  the  sweet  morsels  from  men,  their  Herodiases  (h),  and  to  divide 
betwixt  men  and  their  sins,  which  they  love  better  than  their  souls.  No 
creature  but  man,  loves  that  which  will  be  its  own  bane.  Only  wretched 
man  seeks  happiness  in  the  way  to  misery,  and  heaven  in  the  way  to  hell.  I 
beseech  you  therefore,  as  you  would  not  be  deceived,  (as  indeed  who  would  ?) 
take  heed  of  the  deceitful  works  of  darkness.  Satan  that  tempts  us  is  but 
a  lying  spirit  (which  he  is  not  ashamed  to  confess),  1  Kings  xxii.  22,  and 
sin  is  Like  unto  him.  What  got  Ahab  by  his  vineyard  ?  Judas  by  his  thirty 
pieces  of  silver  ?  what  got  Haman,  and  so  of  the  rest,  by  their  sins  at  the 
last  ?  Men  are  usually  ashamed  of  an  ill  bargain,  because  the  very  thought 
thereof  upbraids  them  with  weakness  and  folly.  Whatever  we  get  by  sin 
for  the  present,  it  wiU  prove  the  worst  bargain  that  ever  we  made.  Oh, 
therefore,  let  us  use  our  wits  and  parts  to  better  purpose  ;  if  we  will  needs 
be  plotting,  let  us  plot  for  eternity  ;  that  is  worth  the  plotting  for.  Let  us 
plot  how  to  avoid  Satan's  plot.  Our  time  is  short,  opportunity,  the  flower 
of  time,  shorter.  Our  talents  are  many,  our  accounts  strict,  our  judge 
unpartial.  Let  us  be  '  sowing  to  the  Spirit,'  Gal.  vi.  8  ;  let  us  labour  to  be 
like  our  Judge,  who  went  about  doing  his  Father's  work,  John  xvii.  4,  and 
came  to  destroy  the  works  of  the  devil,  1  John  iii.  8.  Oh,  beloved,  shall 
we  build  up  that  which  Christ  came  to  destroy  ?  All  his  miracles  tended 
to  good  ;  he  wrought  the  salvation  of  those  that  wrought  his  destruction  ; 
he  shed  his  blood  for  those  that  shed  his  blood.  Satan  is  all  for  mischief, 
and  rather  than  he  will  not  do  hurt,  he  is  content  to  be  set  about  drowning 
of  swine,  Mark  v.  14.  And  such  are  all  those  that  are  led  with  his  spuit, 
men  witty  to  destroy  and  acute  to  malice  others,  who  take  a  great  deal  of  pains 
to  go  to  hell  and  carry  others  with  them.  Those  that  are  skiLful  in  the  story 
of  nature,  write  of  the  scorpion,  that  he  whets  his  tail  often  upon  stones, 
that  so  it  may  be  sharp  and  ready  for  a  mischief.  Some  crooked  wits 
there  are  which  make  it  their  exercise  to  vex  the  quiet  of  the  land ;  it  is  as 
natural  to  them  as  poison  to  a  scorpion. 

But  our  happiness  is,  how  to  be  like  the  idea,  the  pattern  of  all  grace, 
and  the  glory  of  our  nature,  by  whom  we  hope  to  be  saved.  Our  happiness 
is  to  bring  forth  fruit,  and  our  own  fruit  '  in  due  season,'  Ps.  i.  3  ;  to  have 
opportunity,  ability,  and  a  heart  •  to  do  good.  How  comfortable  is  death 
when  it  takes  men  so  doing  ?  The  time  will  be  ere  long,  when  it  will  com- 
fort us  above  all  things  in  the  world  besides,  that  we  have  been  honoured 
to  be  instruments  of  doing  good,  and  stood  in  the  gap  to  hinder  evil. 
Beloved,  we  serve  a  good  master.  We  shall  not  lose  a  good  word  for  a 
good  cause.  There  is  a  *  book  of  remembrance,  Mai,  iii.  16,  for  every  good 
word  and  work  we  do.  When  wicked  men  have  beaten  their  brains,  spent 
their  spirits,  and  wasted  their  strength,  what  becomes  of  them  at  length  ? 
A  conscience  often  wounded  will  receive  no  comfort,  but  take  God's  part 
against  itself.  When  the  other  powers  are  wearied,  then  conscience  comes 
and  doth  its  office  ;  then  the  eyes  of  the  soul  are  open  to  see  what  it  would 
not  see  before,  then  sin  that  '  lay  at  the  door,'  Gen.  iv.  7  (c),  at  the  going  out 


308  THE  SAINT  S  SAPETY  IN  EVIL  TIMES. 

of  this  life,  flieth  in  our  faces.  Pleasure  and  profit,  for  wluch  wicked  men 
project  and  contrive  so  much,  comes  all  to  nothing  ;  but  sin  itself,  and  the 
.punishment  of  it,  abides  for  ever.  Men,  like  popes,  will  dispense  with 
themselves,  and  conceit  a  latitude  and  breadth  in  their  courses,  that  they 
may  do  so  and  so,  and  yet  do  well  at  last,  but  who  tells  them  this  ?  Is  it 
not  a  spirit  of  illusion  ?  Indeed,  punishment  is  often  deferred  ;  it  comes 
not  like  thunder  and  lightning  aU  at  once,  yet  as  sure  as  God  is  true,  sin 
will  be  bitterness  in  the  end.     When  the  honey  is  gone,  the  sting  will  remain. 

To  conclude  this  point ;  when  we  are  tempted  to  any  hurtful  design,  let 
us  look  upon  Christ,  and  that  great  project  for  our  redemption  undertaken 
by  him,  and  reason  thus  with  ourselves  :  hath  he  plotted  and  wrought  my 
salvation,  and  shall  I  plot  against  him  in  his  members  ? 

I  beseech  you,  stir  up  your  hearts  to  conceive  and  bring  forth  good  pur- 
poses. Satan  is  an  enemy  to  all  strong  resolutions  and  masculine  concep- 
tions, endeavouring  to  kiU  them  in  the  very  birth.  Alas,  how  many  good 
thoughts  are  conceived  whilst  the  word  is  hearing,  which  yet  prove  abortive 
and  stick  in  the  birth !  How  few  actions  come  to  their  due  ripeness  and 
perfection  !  I  am  sure  our  encouragements  to  good  are  far  more  than  our 
encouragements  to  evil.  We  serve  a  better  master,  and  for  better  wages. 
They  may  prosper  for  a  time,  but  nothing  is  more  wretched  than  the  hap- 
piness of  wicked  men  ;  it  fii'st  hardens  them,  and  then  destroys  them, 
Prov.  i.  32. 

Our  only  way  is,  1,  to  get  into  Christ  *  the  true  vine,'  John  xv.  1,  then 
we  shall  take  and  bear  fruit  presently,  and  draw  and  suck  out  of  him  the 
same  disposition. 

2.  And  then  lay  up  good  principles,  and  look  with  a  single  eye  to  the 
main  end  of  our  life,  and  see  that  all  the  particular  passages  of  our  life  tend 
to  that.  It  is  an  argument  of  a  narrow  heart  to  be  wise  in  some  particular 
business,  for  some  particular  end,  and  yet  to  be  careless  in  the  main.  Other 
creatures  are  carried  by  a  particular  instinct  to  some  particular  thing.  A 
spider  is  witty  to  catch  flies,  a  bii'd  to  build  nests,  &c.  As  man  hath  larger 
parts,  so  he  should  have  larger  aims. 

That  which  we  should  especially  labour  for  is,  1,  to  be  good  in  ourselves  ; 
and  2,  to  do  aU  the  good  we  can  to  others,  even  as  God  our  Father  is  good, 
and  doth  good ;  and  the  further  our  good  extends,  the  more  we  resemble 
our  Father.  Such  as  we  are,  such  are  our  thoughts,  such  are  our  devices. 
A  good  man  will  devise  of  liberal  things,  &c.  Every  vermin  can  do  mis- 
chief. We  see  some  are  never  in  their  element  but  when  they  are  plotting 
or  working  mischief,  as  if  they  were  born  for  no  other  end  but  to  exercise 
the  graces  of  men  better  than  themselves.  It  is  a  poor  commendation 
to  be  counted  a  cunning  person  for  self  ends.  Alas !  the  heart  of  man, 
which  is  '  deceitful  above  measure,'  Jer.  x\di.  9,  hath  abundance  of  turnings 
and  windings  in  it,  and  can  suggest  tricks  enough  to  circumvent  the  best 
of  us. 

I  come,  in  the  third  place,  to  our  duty,  which  is  to  '  behold,' — the  ordi- 
nary beacon  kindled  to  discover  some  extraordinary  thing. 

Quest.  But  what  is  here  to  be  beheld  ? 

Ans.  Behold  the  subtlety,  malice,  and  restless  endeavour  of  the  ene- 
mies of  goodness.  Is  it  not  a  matter  with  grief  to  be  beheld,  that  one  mem- 
ber should  tear  another?  that  one,  professing  the  same  religion,  should  study 
to  supplant  and  devour  another  ?  Behold,  likewise,  their  bootless  enter- 
prise, they  bring  forth  a  he. 

But  especially  behold  the  mercy  of  God  to  his  children ;  hia  wisdom  in 


THE  saint's  safety  IN  EVIL  TIMES.  809 

diecoyering,  Lis  justice  in  confounding,  the  mischievous  practices  of  their 
enemies,  making  them  the  workers  of  their  own  ruin. 

The  things  which  especially  deserve  our  beholding  are  either,  1,  things 
excellent,  and  so  are  all  God's  works  in  their  season,  yea,  justice  itself;  or, 
2,  things  rare,  as  comets  and  echpses ;  or  else,  3,  great  things,  as  stars  of 
the  first  magnitude,  &c. 

Even  such,  and  much  more,  is  God's  mercy  to  his  children,  and  justice 
against  his  enemies.  Behold  what  great  things  he  hath  done  for  them,  Ps. 
cxxvi.  2.  Shall  the  heathen  say  so,  and  shall  not  Israel  much  more  ?  Be- 
loved, we  ought  to  seek  out  God's  works,  and  shall  we  not  take  notice  of 
them  when  they  are  ofi"ered  to  our  view  ?  This  is  especially  the  duty  of 
the  saints  of  God.  '  All  thy  works  praise  thee,  and  thy  saints  bless  thee,' 
saith  David,  Ps.  cxlv.  10.  The  works  of  God  praise  him  by  our  mouths 
and  by  our  tongues.  Were  it  not  for  some  few  that  by  a  more  divine  light 
and  spiritual  eye  see  more  of  God  than  others  do,  what  glory  should  God 
have  in  the  world  ?  God  hath  not  brought  us  on  the  stage  of  this  world  to 
be  mere  gazers,  but  to  extract  something  out  for  our  own  use,  and  to  give 
him  the  glory  of  his  excellencies.  But  we  are  too  wise  to  admire  anything. 
It  IS  a  matter  too  mean  for  our  parts  to  take  notice  of  God  and  his  works. 
You  have  some  that  can  see  nothing  in  the  works  of  God  worth  the  admir- 
ing ;  and  yet  they  will  have  men's  persons  in  admiration,  in  hope  of  some 
advantage  by  them.  We  are  apt  to  admire  any  outward  excellency,  like 
the  disciples,  before  the  Holy  Ghost  came  upon  them,  who  stood  admiring 
of  the  goodly  stones  of  the  temple.  When  our  minds  are  thus  taken  up,  it 
were  good  if  we  heard  Christ  speaking  to  us  as  he  did  to  them,  '  Are  these 
the  things  you  wonder  at  ?'  Mark  xiii.  1. 

Beloved,  it  is  our  duty  to  observe  special  occurrences,  not  out  of  any 
Athenian  curiosity,  but  to  begin  our  employment  in  heaven  now,  whilst  we 
are  upon  earth ;  to  take  occasion  from  thence  to  bless  God.  We  should 
compare  the  rule  and  the  event  together,  and  observe  what  trath  or  attri- 
bute God  makes  good  by  that  which  is  so  fallen  out ;  see  how  God  com- 
menteth  upon  himself  by  his  own  actions  ;  and  fi^om  observation  of  pai-ticu- 
lars  it  is  good  to  rise  to  generals,  as  Deborah  from  the  destruction  of  one 
enemy  to  the  destruction  of  all.  '  So  let  all  thy  enemies  perish,  0  Lord,' 
Judges  V.  31.  This  was  Moses's  song,  and  Hannah's,  and  the  Virgin 
Maiy's,  &c.  They  mounted  from  a  consideration  of  their  own  particular, 
and  had  their  thoughts  enlarged  with  the  mercy  and  justice  of  God,  to  others 
in  succeeding  generations. 

And  among  all  God's  works  we  should  more  take  notice  of  his  mercy  to 
the  church  than  of  his  justice  towards  his  enemies,  because  his  justice  is, 
as  it  were,  a  foil  to  give  lustre  to  his  mercy.  God  delighteth  more  in 
mercy,  as  being  his  proper  work,  issuing  from  his  own  bowels,  than  in 
works  of  justice  that  are  occasioned  by  the  mahce  of  men.  God  is  wonder- 
ful in  his  saints,  and  more  in  saving  them  than  in  destroying  his  enemies. 
Considei-ing,  therefore,  that  mercy  bears  the  chief  office  in  the  great  works 
of  God,  we  ought  to  dwell  most  in  consideration  thereof,  and  feed  our 
thoughts  more  with  the  meditation  of  his  saving  works  to  his  church  than 
of  the  ruin  of  his  enemies. 

We  pray  hallowed  be  thij  name.  Unless  we  practise  what  we  pray  for, 
we  mock  God,  and  deceive  our  own  souls.  Let  not  God  lose  any  glory  by 
us  ;  let  not  us  lose  such  a  pledge  of  future  happiness  as  glorifying  God  is. 
*  Oh  that  men  would  praise  the  Lord,'  saith  David,-  who,  fearing  lest  God 
should  lose  any  glory  from  his  creatures,  stirs  up  angels  and  all  creatures 


810  THE  SAINT  S  SAFETY  IN  EVIL  TIMES. 

to  '  bless  tlie  Lord,'  Ps.  cslviii.  2,  3.  God  takes  it  very  unkindly  when  we 
do  not  observe  especially,  the  excellent  pieces  of  his  workmanship.  '  A  fool 
■  considereth  not  this,'  &c.,  Ps.  xcii.  6. 

The  Lord  hath  done  marvellous  things  for  his  church  of  late,  whereof  we 
should  rejoice.  We  should  do  as  Moses  did  when  he  came  out  of  the  sea, 
and  as  the  church,  in  resemblance  of  that  deliverance  from  Egypt,  did, 
who  sang  the  song  of  Moses,  being  deUvered  from  their  spiritual  Pharaoh, 
Eev.  XV.  3, 

We  see  now  the  vial  poured  upon  the  sun,  we  see  the  prophecies  against 
antichrist's  kingdom  in  fulfilling.  God  hath  vouchsafed  to  strengthen  our 
faith  by  experience.  We  have  something  to  lay  hold  on,  which  may  encou- 
rage us  to  expect  more  from  God,  and  to  look  for  those  hallelujahs  to  be 
sung  from  all  creatures  in  heaven  and  earth,  upon  the  utter  confusion  of 
antichrist ;  which,  whosoever  labours  to  hinder  any  kind  of  way,  hinders 
the  gloiy  of  God,  and  the  joy  of  his  people. 

It  is  good  to  observe  how  the  Scripture  sets  out  the  enemies  of  God's 
church,  in  a  double  representation,  1,  as  terrible,  terming  them  lions,  buUs, 
&c. ;  2,  as  base,  comparing  them  to  chaff  and  dust  before  the  wind,  dung, 
&c.,  Ps.  X.  4,  that  when  we  see  them  in  their  present  ruff  and  joUity,  we 
should  stay  ourselves  with  consideration  of  their  future  baseness.  Faith 
looks  on  tilings  as  present,  because  it  looks  upon  them  in  the  word  of  Jeho- 
vah, who  wiU  give  a  being  to  all  his  promises  and  threatenings  ;  and  there- 
fore faith  is  called  the  subsistence  of  '  things  not  seen,'  Heb.  xi.  1,  (d)  be- 
cause it  gives  a  kind  of  being  of  things  to  the  mind  and  affections  of  man, 
as  if  they  were  present.  Therefore  the  beUeving  of  the  final  deliverance  of 
God's  people,  and  the  ruin  of  his  enemies,  cannot  but  raise  up  the  souls  of 
good  men  to  a  marvellous  degree  of  joy  and  thankfalness  to  God.  Who 
would  not  fear  to  cleave  to  antichrist,  if  they  did  but  present  to  themselves 
by  faith,  the  certain  ruru  of  that  state,  which  the  Scripture  sets  down,  in  a 
prophetical  manner,  as  a  thing  already  present  ?  '  Babylon  is  fallen,'  &c., 
Rev.  xviii.  2. 

But  to  come  to  a  more  particular  appHcation,  suitable  to  the  present 
time.  The  occasion  and  the  text  are  as  parallel  as  may  be.  Our  gun- 
powder-plotters (e)  were  as  pregnant  in  mischief  as  ever  these.  For  concep- 
tion, it  could  not  but  come  from  beneath  the  vault.  There  was  the  very 
quintessence  of  devilishness  in  it.  Satan  emptied  all  his  bowels,  as  it  were, 
in  this  project.  If  all  the  devUs  in  hell  were  set  awork  to  devise  the  like, 
they  could  hardly  do  it.  There  was  scarce  from  the  beginning  of  the  world, 
a  design  more  prodigious  and  unmerciful,  of  greater  depth  and  extent  of 
villany.  Were  [it]  not  [for]  this  anniversary  commemoration  of  it,  pos- 
terity would  hardly  believe  that  a  plot  so  hellish  could  be  hatched  in  the 
hearts  of  men,  of  English  men,  of  Catholic  men,  as  they  would  be  termed, 
of  men  so  borne  withal,  notwithstanding  their  dangerous  correspondency 
with  foreign  enemies,  and  but  half  subjects,  their  better  parts,  their  spirits, 
being  subject  to  another  visible  head,  who  can  untie  the  bond  of  allegiance 
at  his  pleasure. 

Neither  did  they  only  conceive  this  hellish  wickedness,  but  were  big  of 
it,  and  kept  it  close  many  months,  and  pleased  themselves  in  the  same,  as 
monstrous  and  misshapen  as  it  was.  There  wanted  neither  wit,  nor  counsel, 
nor  combination,  nor  secret  encouragement  to  effect  it. 

Nay,  it  was  an  holy  vUlany,  sealed  with  oaths,  sacrament,  and  all  the 
bonds  of  secrecy  that  could  be  invented.  Oh  horrible  profanation,  to  set 
God's  seal  to  Satan's  plot.     But  God,  who  delighteth  to  confound  all  pre- 


THE  saint's  safety  IN  EVIL  TIMES.  311 

sumptuous  attempts,  discovered  it  when  it  should  have  come  to  the  birth, 
and  so  it  proved  but  the  untimely  fruit  of  a  woman. 

They  brought  forth  a  lie,  for  whereas  they  intended  to  have  blown  up  king 
and  kingdom,  churchmen  and  church,  statesmen,  yea,  the  whole  state  itself, 
all  at  once,  without  any  warning  to  prepare  themselves  for  another  world, 
they  not  only  missed  of  this,  but  brought  that  ruin  upon  themselves  which 
they  intended  to  others ;  whereas  they  thought  for  ever  to  have  established 
their  (i-eligion,  shall  I  call  it,  or  idolatiy,  or)  superstition,  they  have  by  this 
means  made  it  more  odious  than  ever  before ;  as  the  northern  gentleman 
could  say,  that  though  he  was  not  able  to  dispute,  yet  he  had  two  argu- 
ments against  popery,  equivocation  and  the  gunpowder-treason.  But  they 
turn  it  off  easily,  as  they  think.  Alas  !  it  was  but  the  plot  of  a  company 
of  unfortunate  gentlemen.  It  was  our  happiness  that  they  were  unfortunate ; 
whereas  if  it  had  succeeded  well,  they  would  have  had  other  terms  for  it. 
Successful  villany  goeth  for  virtue. 

Well,  the  net  is  broken,  and  we  are  delivered.  God  thought  of  us  when 
we  thought  not  of  him,  and  awaked  for  us  when  we  were  asleep  (here  is  a 
place  for  behold),  for  what  a  miserable  face  of  things  would  there  have  been 
if  their  plot  had  succeeded ! 

Now  what  return  shall  we  make  for  all  this  ?  They  conceived  mischief,  let 
us  conceive  praise,  and  travail  of  holy  resolutions  to  give  up  ourselves  to 
God,  who  hath  given  us  our  king,  our  state,  yea,  ourselves  to  ourselves. 
He  hath  given  us  our  lives  more  than  once,  every  one  of  us  in  particular, 
especially  in  the  last  heavy  visitation.*  But  had  it  not  been  better  for 
many  in  regard  of  their  own  particular,  to  have  been  swept  away  in  that 
deluge,  than  to  live  longer  to  treasure  up  further  wrath  to  themselves  ? 
Many  are  not  content  to  go  to  hell  alone,  but  they  will  draw  as  many  others 
as  they  can  into  their  fellowship  here,  and  torment  hereafter.  Oh  beloved, 
the  preservation  of  such,  is  but  a  reservation  to  farther  judgment !  What 
good  got  the  king  of  Sodom  by  being  deUvered  once,  and  then  after  to  be 
consumed  with  '  fire  and  brimstone  from  heaven  ?  Gen,  xix.  What  got  Pharaoh 
by  being  dehvered  from  ten  plagues,  and  then  to  perish  in  the  sea  ?  Exod. 
xiv.  What  are  all  our  temporal  deUverances,  if  we  live  still  in  sin,  go  on 
in  sin,  die  in  our  sins,  and  so  perish  eternally  ?  Blessings,  without  re- 
turn of  due  thanks,  increase  the  guilt  of  sin,  and  the  increase  of  guilt 
causeth  the  increase  of  judgments. 

The  most  proper  homogeneal  way  of  thanks,  is  to  stir  up  ourselves  to  a 
greater  hatred  of  that  rehgion.  They  would  fain  free  it,  as  if  it  were  the 
fault  of  some  persons  only ;  but  alas  !  what  can  be  else  distilled  from  those 
dangerous  points  they  hold  (as  that,  the  pope  hath  temporal  jurisdiction  over 
princes,  that  he  may  excommunicate  them ;  that  he  may,  out  of  fulness  of 
power,  dispense  with  the  oath  of  allegiance :  that  he  cannot  err;  that  subjection 
to  him  is  a  point  of  absolute  necessity  to  salvation,  dc.)  What,  I  say,  can 
be  distilled  from  these  opinions,  but  treason  in  a  people  that  live  under  a 
prince  of  a  contrary  rehgion  ?  The  dispositions  of  many  of  them  are  better 
than  their  positions. 

However  perhaps  the  present  popef  may  be  more  moderate  and  neutral, 
yet  this  is  the  infusion  of  their  religion  wherever  it  prevails,  and  these 
tenets  shall  be  acted  and  in  fall  force  when  they  please,  and  it  will  please 
them  when  it  shall  be  for  the  advantage  of  the  Catholic  cause.  This  was 
Bellarmine's  tenet.  If  the  pope  should  err  in  commanding  vice  or  forbidding 
virtue,  the  church  is  bound  to  believe  vice  to  be  good,  and  virtue  to  be  ill,  or 
*  The  plague.— G,  t  Urban  VIII  (fJ.—Q. 


812  THE  SAINT  S  SAFETY  IK  EVIL  TIMES. 

• 

else  it  should  sin  against  conscience ;  for  it  is  bound  to  believe  what  he  com,' 
mands*  Thus  they  make  the  judgment  of  man  the  rule  of  truth  and  falsehood, 
■good  and  evil ;  whereas  truth  is  truth,  and  that  which  is  false  is  false, 
whether  men  think  so  or  no.  There  is  an  intrinsical  evil  in  evil,  which  the 
judgment  of  any  man  cannot  take  away ;  and  the  truth  and  goodness  of 
things  stands  upon  eternal  grounds,  not  flexible  or  alterable  by  the  will  of 
any  creature ;  otherwise  it  were  all  one  as  to  think  the  course  of  the  sun 
should  be  guided  by  a  dial.  Is  there  any  hope  of  their  coming  to  us  when 
they  had  rather  have  the  rules  of  nature  and  religion,  which  are  as  un- 
moveable  as  a  mountain  of  brass,  to  vary,  than  be  thought  to  confess  that 
the  pope  may  err  !  which  indeed  is  the  grand  and  leading  error  of  all. 
But  how  should  we  expect  our  words  should  prevail,  whenas  the  great 
works  of  God  prevail  not  at  all  with  them  ?  The  efficacy  of  error  is  so 
strong  in  many,  that  though  they  should  see  the  vial  poured  out  *  upon  the 
throne  of  the  beast,'  Rev.  xvi.  10,  yet  will  they  not  repent. 

For  ourselves,  we  cannot  better  shew  our  thankfulness  for  this  deliver- 
ance, by  means  whereof  we  enjoy  our  lives  and  our  religion,  than  to  pre- 
serve that  truth,  that  is  grounded  upon  the  foundation  of  truth,  which 
hath  been  derived  unto  us  from  those  that  went  before,  who  held  out  the 
same  truth  ;  that  hath  been  sealed  by  the  blood  of  so  many  martyrs  ;  that 
hath  been  estabhshed  by  the  authority  of  gracious  princes  ;  that  God  hath 
given  witness  to  by  so  many  deliverances  ;  that  concurs  with  the  confessions 
of  aU  reformed  churches  ;  that  God  hath  blessed  with  a  constant  tenor  of 
peace,  even  to  the  rejoicing  of  all  neighbour  churches,  to  the  envy  of  our 
enemies,  and  to  the  admiration  of  all. 

We  see  all  countries  round  about  us  in  a  confasion,  and  we,  as  it  were 
the  '  three  young  men  in  the  fiery  furnace,'  safe,  Dan.  iii.,  without  so  much 
as  smoke  or  smell  of  fii'e ;  as  if  we  were  the  only  people  of  God's  delight. 
Now,  what  is  that  which  God  careth  most  for  amongst  us,  but  his  truth  ? 
which,  if  we  suffer,  as  much  as  in  us  lieth,  to  take  any  detriment,  God  may 
justly  make  us  the  spectacles  of  his  wrath  to  others,  as  others  have  been 
to  us.  Beloved,  God  hath  a  cause  and  a  people  ia  the  world,  which  he 
esteemeth  more  than  all  the  world  besides.  Let  us  therefore  own  God's 
cause  and  people ;  his  side  one  day  will  prove  the  better  side. 

I  beseech  you  consider,  what  hurt  have  we  ever  had  by  the  Reformation 
of  religion  ?  hath  it  come  naked  unto  us  ?  hath  it  not  been  attended  with 
peace  and  prosperity  ?  hath  God  *  been  a  barren  wilderness  to  us  ? '  Jer, 
ii.  31.  Hath  not  God  been  a  wall  of  fire  about  us  ?  which,  if  he  had  not 
been,  it  is  not  the  water  that  compasseth  our  island  could  have  kept  us. 
So  long  as  we  keep  Christ's  truth,  Christ  will  keep  us.  Otherwise,  trust 
to  it,  Christ  and  his  truth  wiU  leave  us.  No  nation  under  heaven  hath  so 
much  cause  to  say  '  Behold  '  as  we  have.  Men  are  ready  upon  all  occasions 
to  be  sensible  of  civil  grievances  (as  ia  Solomon's  time  gold  was  as  stones 
in  the  street,  2  Chron.  i.  15,  ix.  27),  but  we  should  be  sensible  of  the 
spiritual  favours  we  enjoy.  If  we  look  upon  other  kingdoms  abroad,  what 
nation  imder  heaven  hath  the  hke  cause  to  bless  God  for  rehgion,  for 
prince,  for  peace,  &c.,  as  we  have  ?  Beloved,  we  cannot  better  deserve  of 
our  king,  church,  and  state,  than  to  give  up  our  Uves  to  God  who  hath 
thus  blessed  us.  The  greatest  enemies  of  a  church  and  state, ,  are  those 
that  provoke  the  highest  Majesty  of  heaven,  by  obstinate  courses  against 
the  light  that  shineth  in  their  own  hearts.  It  is  seriously  to  be  considered 
what  Samuel  saith  to  the  people ;  and  therefore,  if  not  for  love  of  our- 
*  See  original  in  note  g. — G. 


THE  saint's  safety  IN  EVIL  TIMES.  313 

selves,  yet  for  the  love  of  our  king,  religion,  and  state,  let  us  take  heed  of 
provoking  courses,  and  take  heed  of  tiring  the  patience  of  God  over-long. 
To  conclude  all,  it  is  prayer  that  gets,  but  thankfulness  witnessed  by 
obedience  that  keeps,  blessings.  And  what  can  our  thoughts  devise,  our 
tongues  utter,  or  our  Hves  express,  better,  than  the  praise  of  our  good  God, 
that  ever  loadeth  us  with  his  benefits  ?  that  so  God  may  delight  still  to 
shew  himself  unto  us  in  the  ways  of  his  mercy,  and  think  thoughts  of  love 
towards  us,  and  dwell  amongst  us  to  the  world's  end. 


NOTES. 


(a)  P.  306.— Augustine  saith  well,  every  sin  is  a  lie.  From  De  Civitate  Dei,  xlv. 
iv.  1,  '  TJnde  non  frustra  dici  potest,  omne  peccatum  esse  mendacium.' 

(b)  P.  307.—'  Sweet  morsels  ....  their  Herodians.'  This  is  probably  a  mis- 
print for  Herodiases,  and  the  reference  to  Mat.  xiv.  3,  6,  Mark  vi.  17,  22. 

re)  P.  307—'  Sin  .  .  .  lay  at  the  door,'  Gen.  iv.  7.  For  very  interesting  remarks 
on  this  passage,  in  the  sense  of  Sibbes's  quotation,  consult  Kalisch  in  loc,  specially 
page  139  (Hist,  and  Critieal  Commentary  on  Old  Testament  .  .  .  Genesis.    1858). 

(d)  P.  310. — '  The  subsistence  of  things  not  seen,'  Heb  xi.  1.  vmaragig  is  ren- 
dered '  substance  '  in  our  authorised  version.  Professor  Sampson  of  America  in  loc 
accei^ts  Sibbes's  translation,  and  observes,  '  It  is  not  only  true  of  faith,  that  it  is  a 
"  firm  persuasion  "  of  the  existence  of  such  things,  but  that  it  gives  them,  so  to 
ppeak,  "present  subsistence."  It  gives  them  the  force  of  present  realities.  '  This 
sense,  therefore,  includes  the  other,  and  is  for  this  reason  preferable,  that,  while  it 
expresses  all  that  is  expressed  by  the  other,  it  gives  more  fulness  and  strength  to 
the  apostle's  words  '  (Critical  Commentary  on  Hebrews.     New  York,  1856). 

(e)  P.  810.— 'Our  gunpowder  plotters.'  Sibbes  preached  numerous  sermons  on 
the  anniversary  of  the  memorable  conspiracy  known  by  the  name  of  '  the  gunpowder 
plot.'  It  was  so  designated  from  its  design  having  been,  by  springing  a  mine  under 
the  Houses  of  Parliament,  to  destroy  the  three  estates  of  the  realm.  It  was  dis- 
covered on  Nov.  6th.  1605.  An  excellent  summary  of  the  facts  will  be  found  in  a 
small  volume  dedicated  to  '  the  plot,'  by  the  Rev.  Thomas  Lathbury  of  Bristol  and 
a  full  '  history '  in  the  standard  work  of  David  Jardine,  Esq.  ' 

r/;P.  311.— 'The  present  pope  ....  Urban  VIII.''   Consult  Eank6  (History  of 
the  Popes,  ii.  104,  seq.)  for  the  extraordinary  career  of  this  very  remarkable  pope 
His  bearing  toward  England  at  the  time  of  Sibbes's  sermon  explains  the  halfl 
favourable  opinion  expressed.    He  was  raised  to  the  tiara  in  1623,  and  died  in  1644 

(ff)  P.  311.— This  extraordinary  quotation  will  be  found  in  Bellarmine,  De  Ponti- 
fico,  book  iv.  c.  5—'  Si  autem  Papa  erraret  praecipiendo  vitia  vel  prohibendo  virtutes 
teneretur  Ecclesia  credere  vitia  esse  bona  et  virtutes  malas,  nisi  vellet  contra  con-^ 
scientiam  peccaxe.'  q. 


THE  SAINT'S  SAFETY  IN  EVIL  TIMES:* 

MANIFESTED  BY  ST  PAUL,  FROM  HIS  EXPERIENCE  05  GOD'S 
GOODNESS  IN  GREATEST  DISTRESSES. 


Notwithstanding  the  Lord  stood  with  me,  and  strengthened  me,  that  by  me  the 
preaching  might  be  fully  known,  and  that  all  the  Gentiles  might  hear : 
and  I  was  delivered  out  of  the  mouth  of  the  lion.  And  the  Lord  shall 
deliver  me  from  every  evil  work,  and  will  preserve  me  unto  his  heavenly 
kingdom;  to  whom  be  glory  for  ever  and  ever.  Amen. — 2  Tim.  IV. 
17, 18. 

Blessed  St  Paul,  being  now  an  old  man,  and  ready  to  sacrifice  his  dearest 
blood  for  the  sealing  of  that  truth  which  he  had  carefully  taught,  sets 
down  in  this  chapter  what  diverse  entertainment  he  found,  both  from  God 
and  man,  in  the  preaching  of  it.  As  for  men,  he  found  they  dealt  most 
unfaithfully  with  him,  when  he  stood  most  in  need  of  comfort  from  them. 
Demas,  a  man  of  great  note,  in  the  end  forsook  him ;  Alexander  the  cop- 
persmith (thus  it  pleases  God  to  try  his  dearest  ones  with  base  oppositions 
of  worthless  persons)  did  him  most  mischief;  weaker  Christians  forsook 
him,  &c.  But  mark  the  wisdom  of  God's  Spirit  in  the  blessed  apostle,  in 
regard  of  his  difierent  carriage  towards  these  persons.  Demas,  because  his 
fault  was  greater,  by  reason  of  the  eminency  of  his  profession,  him  he 
brands  to  aU  posterity,  for  looking  back  to  Sodom  and  to  the  world,  after 
he  had  put  his  hand  to  the  plough.  Alexander's  opposing,  because  it 
sprung  from  extremity  of  malice  towards  the  profession  of  godliness,  him 
he  curseth.  '  The  Lord  reward  him,'  &c.  Weaker  Christians,  who  failed 
him  from  want  of  some  measure  of  spirit  and  courage,  retaining  stiU  a 
hidden  love  to  the  cause  of  Christ,  their  names  he  conceals,  with  prayer 
that  God  would  not  lay  their  sin  to  their  charge.  But  whilst  Paul  lived  in 
this  cold  comfort  on  earth,  see  what  large  encouragement  had  he  from 
heaven  !  '  Though  all  forsook  me,  yet,'  says  he,  '  God  did  not  forsake  me, 
but  stood  by  me,  and  I  was  deUvered  out  of  the  mouth  of  the  Hon.  And 
the  Lord  will  deliver  me,'  &c. 

In  the  words,  we  have,  in  Paul's  example,  an  expressing  of  that  general 
truth  set  down  by  himself:  '  And  not  only  so,  but  we  glory  in  tribulations 

*  In  the   '  Saint's  Cordial's '  editions  of  tliis  sermon,  it  is  said  to  have  been 
'preached  at  Paul's  Crosse,  upon  a  speciall  solemne  occasion,  Aug.  5.' — G. 


THE  saint's  safety  IN  EVIL  TIMES.  815 

also,  knowing  that  tribulation  worketh  patience  ;  and  patience,  experience  ; 
and  experience,  hope,'  &c.,  Rom.  v.  3.  So  here  affliction  breeds  experience  of 
God's  mercy  in  our  deliverance,  and  experience  breeds  hope  of  deliverance 
for  the  time  to  come ;  and  both  his  experience  and  hope  stirs  him  up  to 
glorify  God,  who  was  his  deliverer ;  so  that  here  offer  unto  us  to  be  un- 
folded— 

1.  Paul's  experience  of  God's  loving  care  of  him  in  his  deliverance  past. 

2.  His  assured  hope,  built  upon  his  eoaperience,  for  the  time  to  come;  set 
down  in  two  branches  : 

(1.)  The  Lord  will  deliver  m£  from  every  evil  work. 
(2.)  He  will  preserve  me  to  his  heavenly  kingdom. 

3.  The  issu£  he  maketh  of  both ;  as  they  flow  from  God's  grace,  so  he 
ascribes  him  the  glory  of  both.  *  To  whom  be  glory  for  ever  and  ever. 
Amen.' 

For  the  first,  I  find  that  most,  both  ancient  and  modem  writers,  by  lion 
understand  Nero,  that  cruel  tyrant,  thirsty  of  blood,  especially  of  Chris- 
tians (h).  Some  also  understand  it  to  be  a  proverbial  speech,  to  express  ex- 
tremity of  danger,  both  which  are  true.  But  if  we  take  the  words  in  the 
just  breadth  of  the  apostle's  intent,  we  may  by  lion  understand  the  whole 
united  company  of  his  cruel  enemies,  as  David  in  many  places  hath  the  like  ; 
and,  by  the  mouth  of  the  lio7i,  the  present  danger  he  was  in  by  reason  of 
their  cruel  malice.     Whence  observe  : 

1.  That  enemies  of  the  truth  are  (oft  for  power,  always  for  malice)  lions. 

2.  That  God  suffers  his  dearest  children  to  fall  into  the  mouths  of  these 
lions. 

3.  That  in  this  extremity  of  danger  God  delivers  them. 

For  the  second,  his  hope  built  upon  his  experience ;  both*  branches  thereof 
hath  its  limitation  and  extent.  The  Lord  shall  deliver  me,  not  from  evil 
suffering,  but  from  evil  works.  This  he  could  boldly  build  on.  He  could 
not  conjecture  what  he  should  suffer,  because  that  was  in  the  power  of 
others ;  but  he  could  build  upon  this,  what  God  would  give  him  grace  to 
do.  And  so  he  limits  his  confidence,  '  He  will  deliver  me  from  evil  works, 
and  he  will  preserve  me.'  From  what  ?  From  danger  ?  from  death  ? 
No ;  here  is  the  limitation :  '  He  will  preserve  me  to  his  heavenly  king- 
dom.' He  will  not  preserve  me  from  death  (and  yet  he  will  do  that  whilst 
I  can  do  his  service  by  my  life),  but  sure  I  am  he  will  preserve  me  beyond 
death  to  a  state  of  security  and  happiness.  '  He  will  preserve  me  to  his 
heavenly  kingdom.' 

And  then  for  the  third.  After  his  experience,  confidence,  and  hope  well 
built,  as  his  fashion  is,  when  his  heart  was  once  warmed,  he  breaks  out 
into  thanksgiving,  in  the  consideration  of  God's  favours  past,  and  to  come. 
His  tongue  is  large  thereupon,  and  God  hath  the  fruit  of  it.  '  To  whom 
be  glory  for  ever ; '  and  lastly,  he  seals  up  all  with  the  word,  '  Amen.' 

'  I  was  delivered  out  of  the  mouth  of  the  Hon,'  &c.  Beloved,  by  nature  we 
are  all  lions,  and  nothing  will  alter  us,  save  the  effectual  knowledge  of 
Christ.  Education  may  civilise,  but  not  subdue.  A  sound  knowledge  of 
God's  truth  hath  a  changing  power ;  for  when  the  spirit  becomes  tender, 
and  when  the  heart,  which  lies  in  a  cursed  estate,  under  and  in  danger  of, 
the  wrath  of  a  just  God,  whose  eye  cannot  spare  iniquity  unrepented  of, 
is  cited  and  affrighted  effectually  by  the  spirit  of  bondage,  it  will  cast  down, 
and  pull  sorrow  from  the  strongest  spirit,  making  it  melting  and  tender. 
Again,  in  this  estate,  when  the  soul  hath  felt  favour  shining  upon  it ;  when 
*  That  is,  '  each  of  the '  branches. — G. 


816  THE  saint's  safety  in  evil  times. 

the  eye  is  opened  to  see  the  high  prerogatives  and  exceeding  riches  of 
Christ;  when  we  find  ourselves  that  we  are  deHvered  fi^om  the  Uon's  mouth, 
we  cannot  but  shew  that  pity  to  others,  which  we  felt  from  God  ourselves. 
Paul  thirsts  as  eagerly  after  the  conversion  of  others  now,  as  ever  he  did 
for  their  blood  before,  Acts  ix.  22.  The  jailor  also,  a  man  by  nature, 
custom,  and  calling,  hardened  in  the  practice  of  cruelty,  Acts  xvi.  83 ;  yet 
after  he  had  felt  the  power  of  God's  blessed  truth,  shewed  forth  those 
bowels  of  pity  he  felt  from  Christ,  which  were  shut  before  {i). 

Let  us  then  be  thankful,  that  God  hath  changed  us  from  being  lions,  and 
with  meekness  submit  ourselves  unto  God's  ordinances,  desiring  him  to 
write  his  law,  not  only  in  our  understandings,  but  in  our  very  hearts  and 
bowels,  that  we  may  not  only  know  that  we  should  walk  harmless  and  full 
of  good,  Jer,  xxxi.  83,  but  be  so  indeed,  resembling  him  by  whom  we  hope 
to  be  saved,  in  a  right  serviceable  pliableness  to  all  duties  of  love. 

And  because  our  imperfect  measure  of  mortification  in  this  life,  hinders 
us  from  a  full  content  in  one  another's  communion,  let  this  make  us  the 
more  willing  to  be  translated  to  God's  holy  mount,  where,  being  purged 
from  all  such  lusts  as  hinder  our  peace  and  love,  we  shall  fully  enjoy  one 
another,  without  the  least  falseness  or  distrust.  Then  shall  we  see  total 
accompUshment  of  these  promises,  which  are  but  in  part  fidfilled  in  this  life. 

Obs.  1.  That  God  sufiereth  his  children  to  fall  into  the  mouth  of  lions,  or 
into  some  danger  proportionable,  wherein  they  shall  see  no  help  from  him, 
is  a  truth  clear  as  the  sun.  The  history  of  the  church  in  all  ages  shews  as 
much.  Was  not  Christ  in  the  mouth  of  the  lion,  so  soon  as  born,  when 
Herod  sought  to  kill  him  ?  Mat.  ii.  13.  Did  not  Satan  and  all  the  spiritual 
powers  of  hell  daily  come  about  him,  like  ramping  and  roaring  hons  ?  And 
hath  it  not  been  thus  with  God's  church  from  Abel  to  this  present,  as 
appears  by  the  children  of  Israel  in  Egypt,  at  the  Eed  Sea,  and  in  their 
journey  to  Canaan,  being  environed  round  about  with  cruel  enemies,  and 
dangers  on  every  side,  like  Daniel  in  the  midst  of  Uons  ?  So  far  God  gave 
them  up  to  the  power  of  their  enemies,  that  the  wisest  of  the  heathen 
judged  them  a  forlorn  people,  hateful  to  God  and  men.*  For  particular 
instances,  see  Job  and  David,  so  near  as  there  was  but  a  step  between  them 
and  death. 

Besides,  God  often  awakens  the  consciences  of  his  children,  and  exer- 
ciseth  them  with  spiritual  conflicts ;  their  sins,  as  so  many  lions,  stand  up 
against  them,  ready  to  tear  their  souls.  Nay,  rather  than  those  that  belong 
to  God  shall  want  that,  which  will  drive  them  unto  him,  God  himself  will 
be  a  lion  unto  them,  as  unto  Ephraim,  Hos.  v.  14, f  which  made  David 
pray,  '  Oh  Lord,  rebuke  me  not  in  thine  anger,  neither  chasten  me  in  thy 
hot  displeasure,'  Ps.  vi.  1.  Of  all  the  troubles  which  a  child  of  God  under- 
goeth  in  his  way  to  heaven,  these  bring  him  lowest.  When  the  body  is 
vexed  and  spirit  troubled,  it  is  much  ;  but  when  God  frowns,  when  neither 
heaven  nor  earth  yields  comfort  to  a  distressed  soul,  no  evU  in  the  world 
is  like  to  this.  Imagine  the  horror  and  straits  of  such  a  soul,  when  all 
things  seem  against  it,  and  itself  against  itself,  as  near  to  the  pains  of  the 
very  damned  in  hell. 

The  reasons  of  this  dispensation  of  God  are  :  1,  because  we  are  so  des- 
perately addicted  to  present  things,  and  so  prone  to  put  confidence  in  the 

*  Cicero.     See  ante,  p.  803. — G. 

t  '  For  I  will  be  unto  Ephraim  as  a  lion,  and  as  a  young  lion  to  the  house  of 
Judah  :  I,  even  I,  will  tear  and  go  away  ;  I  will  take  away,  and  none  shall  rescue 
him.' 


THE  saint's  safety  IN  EVIL  TIMES.  817 

arm  of  flesh,  that  unless  God  driveth  us  from  these  holds,  hy  casting 
us  into  a  perplexed  estate,  we  shall  never  know  what  it  is  to  live  by  faith 
in  God  alone,  when  all  other  props  are  pulled  away,  and  when  the  stream 
of  things  seems  cross  \mto  us.  That  God  therefore  may  train  us  up  to  live 
the  spiritual  life  of  the  just,  which  is  by  faith  in  him,  when  all  else  fail,  he 
suffereth  us  to  faU  into  the  lion's  mouth,  that  so  our  prayers,  which  are  the 
flame  of  faith,  may  be  more  ardent  and  piercing,  rather  cries  than  words. 
'  Why  criest  thou  unto  me,'  saith  God  to  Moses,  Exod.  xiv.  15.  When  was 
this  ?  Even  when  he  knew  not  what  way  to  turn  him.  It  was  out  of  the 
depths  that  David  cried  most  earnestly  unto  God,  Ps.  cxxx.  1 ;  and  Christ,  in 
the  days  of  his  flesh,  cried  unto  God  vnth  strong  cries  and  tears,  in  a  deep 
distress,  and  was  also  heard  in  that  which  he  feared,  Heb.  v.  7.  Strong 
troubles  force  from  the  afflicted  strong  cries.  Even  experience  shews,  in 
prosperity,  and  a  fiill  estate,  how  faint  and  cold  the  prayers  and  desires  of 
men  are. 

2.  Besides,  it  is  meet  that  the  secrets  of  men's  hearts  should  be  dis- 
covered ;  for  when  all  is  quiet,  we  know  not  the  falsehood  of  our  own 
hearts.  Some  over-value  their  strength,  as  Peter,  Mat.  xxvi.  33 ;  others 
underprize  themselves,  and  the  gifts  and  graces  of  God's  Spirit  in  them, 
thinking  that  they  want  faith,  patience,  love,  &c.,who  yet,  when  God  calleth 
them  out  to  the  cross,  shine  forth  in  the  eyes  of  others,  in  the  example  of  a 
meek  and  faithful  subjection.  The  wisdom  of  God  therefore  judgeth  it 
meet,  that  there  should  be  times  of  sifting,  that  both  the  church  and  our- 
selves may  know  what  good  or  ill  is  in  us,  what  soundness  or  looseness 
remains  in  om-  hearts.  When,  therefore,  we  are  wanting  in  fanning  our- 
selves, God  in  love  takes  the  fan  into  his  hand. 

It  is  likewise  behoveful  that  false  brethren  may  be  discovered.  Afflic- 
tions are  well  called  trials,  because  then  it  is  known  what  metal  men  are 
made  of,  whether  pure  or  reprobate  silver.  Think  it  not  strange  then, 
when  our  estate  seems  desperate.  It  is  but  with  us  after  the  manner  of 
God's  dearest  ones  ;  why  should  we  have  a  severed  condition  from  them  ? 
Remember  this,  that  God,  as  he  suffers  his  children  to  fall  into  the  lion's 
mouth,  so  he  delivers  them  out ;  and  that  he  never  leaves  his,  especially 
in  extremity,  but  in  fit  case  of  soul  to  receive  the  greatest  comfort,  and  to 
render  him  the  greatest  glory.  For  then  it  is  known  to  be  God's  work  : 
our  extremity  is  his  opportunity.  God  will  especially  shew  himself  at 
such  a  time,  and  make  it  appear  that  the  church  stands  not  by  man's 
strength.  When  Christians  are  at  a  loss,  and  know  not  which  way  to  turn 
themselves,  then  is  God  nearest  hand  and  careth  most  for  them. 

And  this  the  Lord  doth,  both  for  the  greater  shame  of  those  that  contrive 
mischief  (when  they  make  themselves  surest  to  bring  their  wicked  plots 
and  purposes  to  pass,  then  their  designs  are  most  frustrated) ;  as  also  to 
draw  on  others  not  yet  called ;  that  they,  seeing  God's  immediate  care  over 
his  church  and  children,  may  come  in  and  obtain  like  protection  and  deli- 
verance. 

The  manner  how  God  delivereth  his  children  out  of  the  lion's  mouth  is 
diverse. 

Divers  ways  Jww  God  delivers  from  the  lion's  mouth: — 1.  By  suspend- 
ing their  malice  for  the  time.  As  in  Noah's  ark  the  fierceness  of  the  wild 
creatures  was  stopped  by  divine  power  from  preying  upon  the  tamer,  so 
the  lions'  mouths  were  stopped  from  preying  upon  Daniel  in  the  Uons'  den, 
Dan.  vi.  22. 

2.  By  stirring  up  one  lion  against  another;  as  the  Persians  against  the 


318  THE  saint's  safety  in  evil  times. 

Babylonians,  Grecians  against  Persians,  Romans  against  the  Grecians, 
and  the  other  barbarous  nations,  as  the  Goths  and  Vandals,  against  them ; 
BO  whilst  lions  spit  their  fury  one  upon  another,  the  sheep  are  quiet. 
Thus  the  Turks  and  other  enemies  have  kept  popish  princes  from  raging 
and  tyrannising  over  the  church  to  the  height  of  their  malice. 

3.  By  casting  something  unto  these  lions,  to  divert  them  another  way  frmn 
their  intended  prey ;  as  when  a  man  is  in  danger,  a  dog  is  cast  unto  the 
lion  (j).  Thus,  when  Saul  was  ready  to  devour  David,  the  Phihstines 
made  a  breach  upon  him,  invaded  the  land,  and  turned  his  fury  another 
way,  2  Sam,  xxiii.  27. 

4.  By  altering  and  changing  lions  to  he  lambs;  as  when  Paul  was  set 
upon  havoc  and  mischief,  God,  by  changing  his  heart,  gave  the  churches 
cause  to  glorify  God  for  him,  of  whom  before  they  were  most  afraid. 

6.  God  shews  himself  a  lion  to  these  lions;  by  breaking  their  teeth  and 
jaw-bones,  striking  them  with  sudden  and  fearful  judgment ;  as  Herod, 
Acts  xii.  23,  and  the  persecuting  emperors ;  and  as  in  '88,  when  God  with 
his  four  winds  fought  for  us  against  the  enemies  of  his  truth.* 

6.  By  making  them  lions  to  themselves:  witness  Ahithophel,  Saul,  and 
other  such-like  enemies  of  God's  children. 

7.  Again,  God  maketh  them  friends  tvithout  changing  their  disposition,  by 
putting  into  their  hearts  some  conceit  for  the  time,  which  inclineth  them 
to  favour :  as  in  Nehemiah,  God  put  it  into  the  king's  heart  to  favour  his 
people,  Neh.  ii.  8.  Esau,  Gen.  xxxiii.  4,  was  not  changed,  only  God  for 
the  time  changed  his  affections  to  favour  Jacob.  So  God  puts  it  into  the 
hearts  of  many,  groundedly-naught,  to  favour  the  best  persons. 

8.  Lastly,  God  maketh  his  own  children  sometimes  lions  to  their  adver- 
saries; for  the  image  of  God  shining  in  his  children,  hath  a  secret  majesty 
in  it,  and  striketh  an  awe  upon  wicked  men.  So  Pharaoh  at  length  could 
not  endure  to  see  Moses  and  Aaron  any  more,  Exod.  x.  28 ;  and  FeUx 
trembled  whilst  Paul  disputed  of  temperance  and  judgment.  Acts  xxiv.  25. 

Use;  of  instruction  and  consolation.  Thus  we  see  the  Lord  knows  how  t<r 
deliver  his,  and  can  if  he  will ;  and  wiU  do  it  in  their  extremities,  wheik 
is  most  for  his  glory,  his  people's  comfort,  and  confusion  of  his  own  and 
their  enemies.  Never  despair  therefore  of  thyself  or  the  church  of  God ; 
it  shall,  rather  than  fail,  breed  in  the  Hon's  den.  Paul  salutes  the  Philip- 
pians,  from  the  church  in  Caesar's  house,  Phil.  iv.  22,  a  place  in  appear- 
ance little  fitter  for  a  church  than  hell  itself.  What  though  things  seem 
past  recovery  abroad  ?  When  they  are  at  the  worst,  then  are  they  nearest 
mending.  When  the  task  of  brick  was  doubled  by  Pharaoh  upon  Israel, 
Exod.  V.  11,  then  came  Moses  to  work  out  their  dehverance.  When  the 
Jews  heard  news  of  their  liberty  to  return  from  captivity,  they  were  as 
those  that  dreamed,  Ps.  cxxvi.  1 ;  they  could  not  suddenly  beUeve  it,  it 
seemed  so  strange  a  thing,  in  that  their  hopeless  estate.  Learn  we  then, 
from  this  dealing  of  God  with  his  people,  in  the  midst  of  all  extremities, 
to  allege  unto  God  the  extremity  we  are  in :  '  Help,  Lord,  for  vain  is  the 
help  of  man,'  Ps.  Ix.  11,  is  a  prevailing  argument.  Allege  the  pride  of 
enemies,  the  presumption  of  those  that  fear  not  God,  &c.,  and  that  he  only, 
can  give  issue  from  death,  when  he  will.  And  as  God  brings  us  to  heaven 
by  contraries,  so  let  us  in  one  contrary  believe  another :  hope  against  hope, 
in  misery  look  for  mercy,  in   death  for  life,  in  guiltiness  for  forgiveness. 

*  The  reference  is  to  the  Armada,  proudly  called  '  the  Invincible.'  It  arrived  in 
the  Channel  July  19th  1588,  and  was  utterly  defeated  next  day  by  Drake  and  Ho- 
ward.— G. 


THE  saint's  safety  IN  EVIL  TIMES.  819 

Learn  to  wrestle  with  God  when  he  seemeth  thy  enemy;  oppose  unto 
God  his  former  deahngs,  his  nature,  his  promise,  &c.  Job  had  learned 
this,  '  Though  he  kill  me,  yet  will  I  trust  in  him,'  Job  xui.  15.  Be  of 
Jacob's  resolution,  '  I  will  not  leave  hold  of  thee,  until  I  get  a  blessing,' 
Gen.  xxxii.  26.  Whatsoever  we  are  stript  of,  let  us  never  forsake  our  own 
mercy,  Jonah  ii.  8.  This  one  word,  '  I  despair,'  takes  away  God  and 
Christ  all  at  once.  We  must  remember  our  sias  are  the  slqs  of  men,  but 
mercy  is  the  mercy  of  God.  God  will  never  leave  us,  but  be  with  us, 
whilst  we  are  with  him.  The  world  and  aU  comforts  in  it,  leave  a  man 
when  they  can  have  no  more  use  of  him  nor  he  of  them.  Satan  leaves  his 
sworn  vassals  at  their  wits'  end  when  he  hath  brought  them  iuto  danger. 
But  blessed  be  for  ever  our  gracious  God,  then  of  all  other  times  he  is 
nearest  to  help  us,  when  we  stand  most  in  need  of  him.  He  was  never 
nearer  Moses  than  when  Moses  seemed  furthest  from  comfort,  Exod.  iii.  2  ; 
never  nearer  Jacob  than  when  heaven  was  his  canopy  and  a  stono  hlij 
pillow.  Gen.  xxviii.  12;  never  nearer  Joseph  than  when  in  prison;  Jonah, 
•^han  in  the  belly  of  the  whale,  for  God  went  down  with  him ;  never  nearer 
Paul  than  when  in  the  dungeon,  Acts  xvi.  25.  A  Christian  is  not  alone  when 
left  alone,  not  forsaken  when  forsaken,  2  Cor,  iv.  9.  God  and  his  angels  supply 
them  the  want  of  other  comforts.  Is  it  not  a  greater  comfort  that  a  priuce 
should  come  in  person  to  a  subject  and  cheer  him  up,  than  send  a  meaner 
man?  '  And  whence  is  this  to  me,'  said  EUzabeth,  '  that  the  mother  of 
my  Lord  should  come  unto  me?  Luke  i.  43.  Is  it  not  the  greatest  com- 
fort to  a  Christian  soul  when  God,  in  want  of  means,  comes  immediately 
himself  unto  us,  and  comforts  us  by  his  Spirit  ?  For  in  defect  of  second 
causes,  comforts  are  ever  sweetest.  Therefore,  in  all  extremities  let  us  wait 
and  hope  still  for  mercy.  *  If  the  vision  stay,'  saith  Habakkuk,  '  wait,  for 
it  will  come,'  Hab.  ii.  3. 

Differences  of  godly  and  wicked.  This  is  a  main  difference  betwixt  the 
child  of  God  and  a  person  destitute  of  sound  grace ;  for  the  child  of  God 
in  extremity,  recovers  himself,  as  David,  after  a  great  conflict,  gets  still  the 
upper  hand,  *  Yet,  my  soul,  keep  thou  silence  unto  God,  for  God  is  yet  good 
to  Israel,'  Ps.  Ixxiii.  1,  as  if  he  should  say.  Though,  when  I  look  upon  my  pre- 
sent outward  condition,  I  stagger,  yet^  when  I  consider  more  deeply  of  his 
dealing,  I  am  resolved  God  is  good  to  Israel.  Thus,  after  much  tossing, 
they  get  up  upon  that  rock  which  is  higher  than  they.  But  those  who  are  not 
upright-hearted,  in  any  great  extremity,  sink  down  with  despair,  as  heavy 
bodies,  to  the  centre  of  the  earth,  without  stop.  The  reason  is,  in  their 
best  estate  they  never  were  acquainted  with  reljong  upon  God,  but  bore 
themselves  up  with  fleshly  helps,  which,  being  taken  away,  they  must  needs 
faU  downright.  But  a  sincere  Christian,  in  midst  of  his  flourishing  estate, 
acquainteth  himself  with  God,  and  sets  not  his  heart  upon  present  things. 
Job  says,  that  which  he  feared  in  his  best  case,  that  befel  unto  him,  Job 
iii.  25.  Therefore  they  can  rest  upon  God's  mercy  when  other  props  are 
taken  away. 

Of  our  support  in  spiritual  losses.  Yet  there  be  divers  degrees  of  uphold- 
ing us  when  we  are  at  a  spiritual  loss.  For  usually,  in  what  measure 
we,  ia  the  times  of  our  peace  and  liberty,  inordinately  let  loose  our  affec- 
tions, in  that  measure  are  we  cast  down,  or  more  deeply  in  discomfort. 
When  om'  adulterous  hearts  cleave  to  outward  things  more  than  becomes 
chaste  hearts,  it  makes  the  cross  more  sharp  and  extreme.  For  that  which 
is  not  enjoyed  with  over  much  pleasure,  is  parted  withal  without  over  much 
grief.     But  for  spiritual  extremities,  oftentimes  the  strongest,  feel  them  with 


820  THE  SAINT  S  SAFETY  IN  EVIL  TIMES. 

quickest  sense ;  for  God  herein  respects  not  always  sins  past,  or  more  or 
less  measure  of  grace,  as  in  Job's  case,  who  could,  without  much  distemper 
of  soul,  endure  extremities  of  body  and  estate,  but  when  God  wrote  bitter 
things  against  him,  presently  he  begins  to  sink,  and  but  begins  only ;  for 
when  he  was  at  worst,  he  stays  himself  upon  his  Redeemer,  to  the  glory  of 
God's  grace,  and  shame  of  the  devil.  Thus  sometimes  God  makes  his 
children  triumph,  whom  he  sets  as  champions  in  defiance  of  Satan.  They, 
in  weakness,  think  they  shall  utterly  fail  and  perish,  but  their  standing  out 
in  greatest  conflicts  shews  the  contrary. 

But  to  come  to  that  which  I  intend  chiefly  to  insist  on,  '  the  Lord  shall 
deliver  me  from  every  evil  work,'  &c.,  wherein  we  may  see-^ 

1,  The  author  of  his  safety. 

2.  The  deliverance  itself. 

The  author  is  the  Lord.  No  less  than  an  almighty  power  is  necessary 
to  deliver  from  any  evil  work.  For  such  is  our  inclinableness  to  join  with 
temptation,  such  the  malice  and  strength  of  our  enemy,  so  many  be  the 
snares,  and  so  cunningly  spread  in  everything  we  deal  withal,  that  whatsoever 
delivereth  us  must  be  above  Satan  and  our  own  evil  hearts ;  more  wise, 
more  powerful,  more  gracious  to  preserve  us  than  any  adverse  power  can 
be  to  draw  us  unto  evil  works.  In  which  case,  well  said  Moses  when  God, 
in  his  wonted  glorious  presence,  refused  to  go  along  with  them.  0,  saith 
Moses,  if  thou  go  not  with  us,  carry  us  not  hence,  Exod.  xxxiii.  15. 

'  Deliver'  supposeth  danger,  possible  or  present.  Beloved,  our  lives  are 
such  as  stand  in  need  of  perpetual  deliverance.  Our  estate  here  is  waver- 
ing. The  church  lives  always  in  tents,  and  hath  never  any  hope  of  rest 
until  the  day  of  triumph.  Therefore,  after  forgiveness  of  sins,  follows  '  lead 
us  not  into  temptation ;'  because,  though  sins  past  be  forgiven,  yet  we  are 
in  danger  to  be  led  into  temptation.  Let  none  promise  a  truce  to  himself, 
which  God  promiseth  not.  If  Satan  and  our  corniptions  join,  we  cannot 
be  quiet.  After  sins  of  youth  we  are  in  danger  of  sins  of  riper  age ;  for 
though  by  grace,  in  some  sort,  sin  be  subdued,  yet,  until  it  be  whoUy  morti- 
tified,  there  wiU  be  some  stirring  up,  until  that  which  is  imperfect  in  us  be 
abolished. 

But  I  hasten  to  that  which  follows.  '  The  Lord  will  deliver  me  from  every 
evil  work.' 

Whence,  from  the  form  of  the  argument,  observe  that  we  ought  to  reason 
with  God  from  former  experience  to  future,  1  Sam.  xvii.  37 ;  2  Cor.  i.  10. 
Yea,  it  is  a  binding  argument  with  God.  He  loves  to  be  sued  and  pressed 
from  former  mercies,  and  sufiers  them  to  be  bonds  unto  him.  Men  wiU 
not  do  so,  because  their  fountain  is  soon  drawn  dry ;  but  God  is  a  spring 
that  can  never  be  emptied.  As  he  was  able  to  help  in  former  time,  so  he 
is  also  for  the  time  to  come.  He  is  always,  I  ajvi  Jehovah  ;  always  where 
he  was  ;  his  arm  is  not  shortened.  What  he  hath  done  heretofore  he  can 
do  now. 

Use.  We  should  therefore  register  God's  favours,  which  is  the  best  use 
we  can  put  our  memories  to,  and  make  them  so  many  arguments  to  build 
upon  him  for  time  to  come,  as  David,  *  The  Lord  that  delivered  me,'  saith 
he,  '  out  of  the  paw  of  the  lion,  and  out  of  the  paw  of  the  bear,  will  deliver 
me  out  of  the  hand  of  this  Phihstine,'  1  Sam.  xvii.  37.  Oh,  were  we  but 
acquainted  with  this  kind  of  reasoning  with  God,  how  undaunted  would  we 
be  in  all  troubles  !  We  should  be  as  secure  for  the  time  to  come  as  for  th^ 
time  past,  for  aU  is  one  with  God.  We  do  exceedingly  wrong  our  own 
souls,  and  weaken  our  faith,  by  not  minding  of  God's  favours.     How  strong 


THE  saint's  safety  IN  EVIL  TIMES.  821 

in  faith  might  old  men  be,  that  have  had  many  experiences  of  God's  love,  if 
they  would  take  this  course  !  Every  former  mercy  should  strengthen  our 
faith  for.  a  new,  as  conquerors,  whom  every  former  victory  encoui-ageth  to 
a  new  conquest.     So  old  favours  should  help  us  to  set  upon  God  afresh. 

But  what  is  the  hmitation  here  ?  '  From  every  evil  work.'  Which  words 
we  will  first  touch  a  little  severally,  and  then  consider  more  particularly  of 
them. 

Sometimes  God  speaks  of  duties  as  they  issue  from  man,  because,  in- 
deed, the  will  is  man's,  from  whence  the  duty  comes,  and  therefore  the 
Scripture  speaks,  as  though  the  duty  came  from  us,  because  the  powers  are 
om-s  from  whence  they  spring.  Sometimes  the  Scripture  speaks  of  holy 
duties  as  they  issue  from  a  higher  power,  from  God.  So  here,  the  Lord 
will  deliver  me  from  every  evil  work,  he  means  that  God  would  stir  up  his 
heart  to  a  care  to  avoid  evil  works.  We  are  agents  and  patients  in  all  we 
do.  We  are  agents,  because  the  powers  are  ours ;  we  are  patients,  because 
the  Lord  doth  all.  Now  it  is  the  language  of  the  Holy  Ghost  for  the  most 
part,  when  he  speaks  of  good  duties,  to  go  to  the  fountain,  especially  when 
faith  is  to  be  strengthened. 

Quest.  But  how  doth  God  deliver  ? 

Ans.  By  keeping  us  from  occasions,  or  by  ministering  strength  if  occa- 
sions be  oifered.  By  giving  occasions  of  good,  and  by  giving  a  heart  to 
entertain  those  occasions.  He  preserves  us  fi-om  evil  works,  (1)  by  plant- 
ing the  graces  of  faith  and  of  fear  in  us,  whereby  we  are  preserved  ;  and  by 
peace,  which  guards  our  souls  from  despair  and  tumultuous  thoughts.  Yea, 
he  preserves  us  fr'om  evil  works,  through  faith,  unto  his  heavenly  kingdom, 
Phil.  iv.  7. 

In  a  word,  (2)  God  preserves  his  children  by  making  them  better,  by  weak- 
ening corruptions,  by  his  Spirit  stirring  up  a  clear  sight  and  hatred  of  the 
same  in  them,  and  by  withdrawing  occasions  which  might  prevail  over  us, 
and  by  keeping  us  from  betraying  ourselves  unto  them ;  by  chaining  up 
Satan  until  our  strength  be  such  as  may  encounter  him.  A  great  mercy  it 
is,  though  Httle  thought  on,  that  God  letteth  not  loose  Satan  upon  us  every 
moment.  How  should  this  stir  us  up,  with  David,  to  thankfulness  and 
dependence  upon  God. 

He  delivers  also  wicked  men  from  dangers,  not  out  of  any  love  to  their 
persons,  but  because  he  hath  some  base  service  for  them  to  undertake,  to 
exercise  the  patience  of  his  children,  and  vex  others  better  than  themselves, 
which  is  not  fit  for  godly  men  to  do.  They  are  only  God's  rod,  and  their 
dehverance  is  no  preservation,  but  a  reservation  to  worse  mischief.  It  is 
not  a  bettering  deliverance. 

But  God  dehvers  his,  gi-aciously,  not  only  fi-om  danger,  but  from  those 
evil  works  they  are  subject  to  fall  into  in  their  danger.  It  is  not  ill  to  suffer 
iU,  but  to  do  ill.  For  doing  ill  makes  God  our  enemy  ;  sufi"ering  ill  doth 
not.  Doing  ill,  stains  and  defiles  the  soul,  and  blemisheth  the  image  of  God 
in  us ;  sufiering  ill  doth  none  of  this.  Doing  ill,  hinders  communion  and 
acquaintance  with  God  ;  suffering  ill  doth  not.  God  is  more  immediately 
acquainted  with  the  soul  in  suffering  ill.  Doing  iU  is  the  cause  of  all  iUs  ; 
Buffering  ill  comes  from  doing  ill.  The  ill  of  sin,  is  the  ill  of  ills,  because  it 
is  evil  itself,  and  the  cause  of  all  other  whatsoever.  We  may  thank  our 
ill  in  doing,  for  our  ill  in  suffering ;  and  therefore  the  apostle  is  well  assured 
what  he  says,  '  The  Lord  will  dehver  me  fi-om  every  evil  work,'  not  from 
every  inward  infirmity  and  weakness,  but  from  every  evil  work  that  is  scan- 
dalous and  offensive  to  him. 

VOL.  I.  X 


322  THE  saint's  safety  in  evil  times. 

It  is  an  aggravation  of  ill  when  it  is  manifested  ;  for  then  it  either  taints 
or  grieves  others.  Indeed  so  soon  as  the  resolution  of  the  soul  hath  passed 
it,  when  the  will  resolves  on  such  a  thing,  it  is  done,  both  in  good  and  evil, 
before  God.  But  in  regard  of  the  world,  and  of  the  chui'ch  we  live  in ;  the 
bringing  of  the  work  upon  the  stage,  as  it  were,  is  an  aggravation  of  evil ; 
because,  besides  the  hurt  which  is  done  to  evil  men,  good  men  are  either 
hurt  or  vexed  at  it.  Therefore  the  apostle  saith,  '  the  Lord  will  deliver  me 
from  every  evil  work.'  This,  a  Christian  should  especially  labour  for,  that 
God  in  all  things  would  keep  him  free  from  sin.  Yea,  this  differenceth  a 
Christian  from  another  man.  Take  a  carnal  man  when  he  is  like  to  fall 
into  danger,  he  studies  how  to  get  out  of  suffering  evil,  not  how  to  prevent 
doing  evil ;  he  plots,  devises,  and  entangles  himself  in  his  own  wit,  and 
makes  the  matter  worse  by  equivocation,  and  such  like  sinful  courses,  as 
we  might  learn  from  the  papists,  if  we  had  not  enough  from  our  own  breast. 
But  Paul's  care  was  to  be  delivered  from  evil  works.  For  a  man  indeed  is 
never  overcome,  let  him  be  never  so  vexed  in  the  world  by  any,  till  his 
conscience  be  cracked.  If  his  conscience  and  his  cause  stand  upright,  he 
prevails  still ; '  in  all  these  things  we  are  more  than  conquerors,'  Eom.  viii.  37, 
saith  the  apostle.  The  meaning  is,  sufferings  cannot  quell  our  courage,  they 
cannot  stain  oui-  conscience,  they  do  not  hurt  the  cause,  but  it  gets  victory 
in  despite  of  them ;  so  that  oux  courage  is  undaunted  and  our  conscience 
abides  unstained.  Let  it  be  our  care  therefore  to  take  heed  of  evil  works. 
Look  into  ^  the  world  and  see  what  is  the  care  of  most  men  we  converse 
with.  Oh,  if  they  can  get  such  a  place,  if  they  can  get  such  an  estate !  Aye, 
but  it  cannot  be  had  without  sinful  abasement,  without  cracking  of  con- 
science, and  unlawful  engagement.  Oh,  say  they,  it  is  no  matter,  God  will 
pardon  all,  I  care  not  so  I  may  have  my  wish.  This  is  the  heart  of  many 
graceless  persons  that  are  not  led  with  heavenly  respects.  But  take  a 
Christian,  and  he  had  rather  beg,  do  anji^hing  in  the  world,  than  do  a  thing 
unworthy  his  profession,  unbeseeming  the  gospel,  or  that  high  caUiag  where - 
unto  he  is  called.  '  Shall  such  a  man  as  I  do  this  ?'  Neh.  vi.  11 ;  he  will 
not,  and  therefore  his  care  is  to  take  heed  of  ill  works ;  for  then  he  is  sure 
to  have  God  his  friend,  who  hath  riches  and  honour  enough  for  him,  because 
'  the  earth  is  the  Lord's  and  the  fulness  thereof,'  Ps.  sxiv.  1.  This  is  the 
care  of  a  judicious  well-instructed  Christian. 

But  mark  the  extent  from  evenj  evil  work.  St  Paul'  scare  is  not  for  one  or 
two,  but  that  God  would  keep  him  from  every  evil  work.     Why  so  ? 

Why  St  Paul  says  from  every  evil  ivork.  Because  he  that  truly  hates  one  sin, 
will  hate  all  the  kinds  of  it.  Both  come  from  the  same  love  of  God.  He  that 
loves  God  as  he  should,  will  hate  whatsoever  God  hates ;  '  and  have  respect 
to  all  God's  commandments,'  as  the  psalmist  speaks,  Ps.  cxix.  128.  Par- 
tial obedience  is  indeed  no  obedience  at  all ;  for  he  that  obeys  one,  and  not 
another,  obeys  not  simply  because  of  the  commander,  to  yield  obedience 
unto  him;  but  only  to  satisfy  his  own  corrupt  nature,  picking  and  choosing 
what  pleases  himself,  which  belongs  not  to  an  inferior,  but  to  a  superior  to 
do.  And  therefore,  such  make  themselves  gods,  in  that  they  single  out 
easy  things  that  do  not  oppose  their  lusts,  which  are  not  against  their  re- 
putation, &c.,  and  therein  perhaps  they  will  supererogate,  and  do  more  than 
they  need,  only  because  they  will  have  a  compensation  with  God,  that  he 
should  quit  with  them  for  other  things.  I  have  done  that,  and  therefore  he 
must  bear  with  me  in  this.  Oh !  but  there  is  no  compensation  here.  A  man 
is  never  so  straitened  but  he  may  escape  without  sin.  There  is  no  pretence 
will  serve ;  but  we  must  abstain  from  every  evil  work.     Satan  keeps  many 


THE  saint's  safety  IN  EVIL  TIMES.  823 

men  in  his  snare  by  this,  and  so  he  hath  them  safe  in  one  sin,  he  cares 
not;  therefore  he  will  suffer  them  to  hear,  read,  and  pray,  &c.,  holding 
them  fast  in  one  reigning  sin,  wherein  he  will  let  them  alone  till  the  time 
of  some  great  affliction,  or  death ;  and  then  he  will  roar  upon  them.  Oh 
beloved !  we  cannot  provide  worse  for  our  own  souls,  than  to  cherish  a 
purpose  of  living  in  any  one  sin,  for  that  is  enough  for  the  devil  to  hold  his 
possession  in  us  by,  and  at  the  hour  of  death  to  claim  us  for  his  own.  '  K 
we  regard  any  iniquity  in  our  heart,  the  Lord  will  not  hear  our  prayers,' 
Ps.  Ixvi.  18.  I  beseech  you  therefore,  let  us  labour  to  have  clear  con- 
sciences, freeing  ourselves  from  a  purpose  to  live  in  any  sin ;  that  in  all 
our  slips  and  faihngs  we  may  say  with  an  honest  heart,  my  purpose  was  not 
to  do  this,  but  to  refrain  from  wickedness. 

Again,  he  speaks  of  this  for  the  time  to  come  ;  the  Lord  will  deliver  me 
from  evil.     A  true  Christian  is  as  careful  to  avoid  sin  for  the  time  to  come, 
as  to  he  freed  from  the  guilt  of  sms  past.     Judas  may  desire  to  have  hia 
conscience  freed  from  former  sins,  but  Judas  cannot  desire  to  be  a  good 
man  for  the  time  to  come.     Nothing  argues  a  good  conscience  more  than 
this.     The  most  wicked  wretch  that  breathes,  may  desire  to  have  his  con- 
science stilled,  and  yet  never  have  any  purpose  or  power  to  abstain  from 
sm ;  but  like  a  dog,  after  he  hath  disgorged  himself,  return  to  his  vomit 
again.  ^  True  repentance  is  a  turning  from  former  evils  to  a  contrary  good. 
Our  grief  no  further  yields  comfort  of  sound  repentance,  than  it  hath  care 
attending,  for  prevention  of  sin  ;  according  to  that  which  Christ  said  to  the 
woman  taken  m  adultery,  '  Go,  and  sin  no  more,'  John  v.  14,  and  as  David 
prays,  '  Purge  me,  0  Lord,  and  cleanse  me,  but  withal,  estabHsh  me  with  thy 
free  Spirit  for  the  time  to  come,'  Ps.  h.  2,  12.     As  if  he  should  say.  Lord, 
I  know  it  is  not  in  man  to  order  his  own  ways,  I  desire  not  the  forgiveness 
of  my  sins  that  thereby  I  might  with  more  liberty  offend  thy  majesty,  but 
with  pardonmg  grace,  I  beg  preventing  grace.     No  false  heart  can  move 
such  a  desu-e  as  this  to  God.     A  gracious  heart  that  prays  aright,  prays  as 
well  that  God  would  preserve  him  from  future  sin,  as  forgive  him  his  former 
sms.     It  is  a  ridiculous  thing  of  the  papists  to  make  confession  of  a  sin 
which  they  mean  to  commit :  as  some  late  traitors  confessed  such  and  such 
things  which  they  were  to  act,  and  were  straight  absolved  for  it.     So  your 
cursed  duellists,  that  will  pray  and  repent,  when  they  mean  presently  to  fall 
one  upon  another.     Is  this  repentance,  when  a  man  is  inveigled  with  the 
sm  he  means  to  commit ;  and  cannot   overcome  himself  in  the  case  of 
revenge  ?     Do  these  men  think  they  repent  ?     No,  certainly  ;  repentance  is 
of  sms  past,  and  the  carriage  of  every  true  Christian  is  to  avoid  evil  for  the 
time  to  come. 

Again,  it  is  here  a  perpetuated  act :  The  Lord  will  dehver  me  still  from 
every  evil  work._  Whence  you  see  that  in  every  evil  work  we  are  tempted 
to,  we  need  delivering  grace;  as  to  every  good  work,  assisting  grace.  In- 
deed, our  whole  life,  if  we  look  upwards,  is  nothing  but  a  deliverance,  but 
if  we  look  to  ourselves,  it  is  nothing  but  danger  and  a  warfare,  and  there- 
fore we  have  need  of  a  deUverance.  How  little  a  temptation  turns  over  a 
great  man  !  as  sometimes  a  httle  wind  turns  over  your  mighty  galleys.  We 
see  this  in  David  and  Solomon ;  and,  if  God  leave  us  to  ourselves,  even 
the  strongest  man  in  the  world,  how  soon  is  he  overturned  !  In  the  midst 
of  sinful  occasions,  how  ready  are  we  to  join  with  them,  and  betray  our 
own  souls ! 

But  from  the  whole,  take  it  as  it  comes  from  God  altogether,  the  truth 
IS  thus  much,  that  a  Christian,  who  is  pivy  to  his  own  soul  of  good  intentions 


324  THE  saint's  safety  in  evil  times. 

to  abstain  from  all  ill  for  the  present,  may  presume  that  God  will  assist  him 
against  all  ill  works  for  the  time  to  come.  I  say  a  Christian,  that  hath  hia 
conscience  telling  him  that  he  means  to  be  better,  and  is  not  in  league  with 
any  sin,  may  believe  this  for  the  time  to  come,  that  God  will  keep  him 
from  evil  works.  I  speak  this,  because  many  who  are  yet  sinners  think  it 
in  vain  to  strive,  for  they  shall  never  be  better.  What  dost  thou  talk,  man? 
Hast  thou  a  mind  to  be  better  ?  God  will  meet  thee  one  time  or  other. 
Is  thy  will  at  liberty  ?  He  that  gives  thee  the  will,  will  also  give  thee  the 
deed.  Is  not  this  the  promise,  that  God  will  deliver  thee  from  every  evil 
work  ?     And,  therefore,  away  with  all  discouragements. 

Obj.  0  but  there  are  sons  of  Anak,  mighty  giants,  that  molest  me ; 
my  sins  are  as  so  many  giants  to  stop  my  proceeding ;  I  shall  never 
be  better ! 

Solution.  Say  not  so  ;  nay,  rather  thou  ivilt  not  be  better.  Thou  art  in 
league  with  some  secret  sin,  thy  heart  riseth  against  those  that  reprove 
thee  of  it,  thine  own  conscience  tells  thee  that  thy  heart  is  naught ;  for  if 
thou  wouldst  set  thyself  to  obey  God  in  truth,  assuredly  he  would  deliver 
thy  soul.  And  therefore  the  apostle,  to  prevent  such  doubts,  speaks  of 
deliverance  from  evil  works  as  coming  from  God. 

Obj.  But  some  may  object,  We  sin  every  day;  and  'if  we  say  we  have 
no  sin,  we  deceive  ourselves,  and  the  truth  is  not  in  us,'  1  John  i.  8. 

Ans.  You  must  not  understand  this  phrase  legally,  in  the  rigour  of  it, 
as  that  God  will  deliver  us  from  every  ill  thought,  or  rising  in  the  heart, 
or  from  every  outward  slip  and  faihng,  &c. ;  but  by  every  evil  work,  the 
apostle  means  every  reproachful  sin  that  breaks  the  peace  of  our  conscience, 
that  swallows  up  a  man's  salvation.  From  such  kind  of  sins  that  bring  a 
stain  and  discredit  unto  a  man's  profession,  that  wound  his  soul,  and  may 
discourage  others,  the  Lord  will  deliver  his ;  he  will  keep  them  from  greater 
sins  altogether,  and  from  being  in  league  with  lesser.  You  know  in  falls 
there  are  several  degrees ;  there  is  a  slip,  a  falling,  and  a  falling  on  all 
four;  as  we  say,  a  flat  falling.  Now  God  will  deliver  his  children  from 
falling  so  foully. 

2.  How  God  delivers  from  ill  works  by  not  delivering.  Nay,  sometimes  he 
will  deliver  them  from  evil  works,  by  not  delivering  them  from  evil  works. 
He  will  deliver  from  great  ill  works,  by  letting  them  alone  in  lesser  ill 
works.  God  delivers  from  e\i\  divers  ways  ;  he  delivers  from  falling  into 
ill,  and  he  delivers  out  of  iU  when  we  are  fallen  ;  he  delivers  from  ill  like- 
wise by  supporting  us ;  nay,  which  is  more,  he  dehvers  from  ill  works  by 
ill  works. 

Quest.  How  is  that  ? 

Solution.  How  do  physicians  deliver  from  an  apoplexy  ?  from  a  lethargy  ? 
Is  it  not  by  casting  the  sick  person  into  an  ague,  to  awaken  that  dull  sick- 
ness ?  So  God,  to  cure  the  conscience  of  a  man,  when  he  sees  him  in 
danger  of  security  by  those  soul-killing  sins,  pride,  covetousness,  looseness, 
hypocrisy,  and  the  like,  suffers  him  sometimes  to  fall  into  less  offences,  to 
awake  his  conscience,  that  being  roused  up  he  may  fly  to  God's  mercy  in 
Christ.  So  infinite  is  God's  care  this  way,  that  he  will  deliver  either  from 
ill  works,  or  from  the  evil  of  ill  works  ;  or,  if  he  deliver  not  from  ill  works, 
yet  he  will  deliver  us  from  worse  works  by  those  ill  works.  Austin 
saith,  I  dare  presume  to  say,  it  is  profitable  for  some  men  to  fall.*  If  a 
man  be  of  a  proud,  peremptory  disposition,  or  of  a  blockish,  dull,  and 

*  '  It  is  profitable  for  some  men  to  fall.'  Consult  '  Confessio  Book  I.,  xi.  18; 
and  Book  VII.  xx  26.— G. 


THE  SAINT  S  SAFETY  IN  EVIL  TIMES.  825 

secure  nature,  it  is  good  he  should  be  acquainted  what  sin  he  carries  in  his 
breast,  where  his  corruptions  are,  &c.,  that  so  he  may  know  himself  and  his 
danger  the  better. 

Use.  I  beseech  you  make  use  of  this,  to  help  your  faith  and  thankful- 
ness. When  we  are  delivered  from  evil  works,  it  is  God  that  doth  it. 
The  consideration  whereof,  methinks,  should  strengthen  our  faith  against 
Satan  and  all  his  fieiy  darts,  and  encourage  us  to  set  confidently  upon  any 
corruption  that  we  are  moved  to  by  others,  or  our  own  natural  inclination. 
It  IS  God's  enemy,  and  it  is  my  enemy ;  it  is  opposite  to  God's  will,  and 
it  IS  an  enemy  to  my  comfort.  God  will  take  my  part  against  that  which 
is  opposite  to  him.  He  hath  promised  me  to  assist  me  against  every  evil 
work  by  his  Holy  Spirit.  A  Christian  is  a  king.  Rev.  i.  6 ;  and  he  hath 
the  triumphing  Spirit  of  Christ  in  him,  which  will  prevail  over  all  sin  in 
time. 

Obj.  But  some  poor  soul  may  object,  Alas !  I  have  been  assaulted  by 
such  a  corruption,  a  long  time,  in  a  grievous  manner,  and  am  not  yet  de- 
livered from  it. 

A71S.  God  doth  by  little  and  Httle  purge  out  corruption.  As  every  stroke 
helps  the  fall  of  the  oak,  the  first  stroke  helps  forward ;  so  every  opposing 
of  corruption,  never  so  little,  helps  to  root  it  out,  and  it  is  weakened  by 
little  and  Httle,  till  death  accomplish  more  mortification. 

But  to  proceed.  God  doth  not  only  deliver  from  evil  works,  but  pre- 
serves us  to  his  heavenly  kingdom.  We  must  take  preserve  here  in  its  full 
breadth.  He  preserves  us  whilst  he  hath  any  work  for  us  to  do  in  this 
hfe;  and  when  he  will  have  us  live  no  longer,  he  will  preserve  us  to 
heaven ;  howsoever,  by  death  he  takes  us  away,  yet  even  then  the  Lord 
still  preserves  us. 

Under-preservers  of  the  saints.  He  will  preserve  us  in  our  outward  estate, 
by  himself,  and  by  under-preservers,  for  there  be  many  such  under  God ; 
as  angels  that  are  his  ministering  spirits,  and  magistrates,  who  are  the 
shields  of  the  earth  ;  they  may  preserve  under  God  ;  and  likewise  ministers, 
that  are  the  chariots  and  horsemen  of  Israel,  and  good  laws,  &c.  But  God 
is  the  first  turner  of  the  wheel ;  we  must  see  him  in  all  other  preservers 
whatsoever.  And  therefore  the  apostle,  in  the  language  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
and  of  Canaan,  saith  here,  'The  Loixl  will  preserve  me,'  Ps.  xlvii.  9; 
2  Kings  ii.  12.  And  rather  than  a  man  shall  miscany  when  God  hath 
anything  for  him  to  do,  God  will  work  a  miracle. 

The  three  men  could  not  be  burned  in  the  fire,  Dan.  iii.  25  and  vi.  12  ; 
God  so  suspended  the  force  thereof.  Daniel  could  not  be  devoured  of  the 
greedy  lions,  &c.  Rather  than  God's  purpose  shall  fail,  that  a  man  should 
perish  before  the  time  that  God  hath  allotted  him,  the  lions  shall  not  devour, 
and  the  fire  shall  not  burn.  God  hath  measured  our  glass  and  time,  even 
to  a  moment;  and  as  our  Saviour  Christ,  out  of  knowledge  of  this  heavenly 
truth,  saith,  '  My  time  is  not  yet  come,'  John  vii.  6,  so  let  us  know  that, 
till  our  hour  comes,  all  the  devils  in  hell  cannot  hm-t  one  hair  of  our  head. 
And  this  is  a  wondrous  ground  of  confidence,  that  we  should  carry  our- 
selves above  all  threatenings,  and  above  all  fears  whatsoever.  '  Thou  canst 
do  nothing  except  it  were  given  thee,'  John  xix.  10,  saith  Chi'ist  to  brag- 
ging Pilate,  who  boasted  of  his  power.  Alas  !  what  can  all  the  enemies  of 
God's  people  do  except  God  permit  them  ? 

If  a  king  or  a  great  man  should  say  to  an  inferior.  Go  on ;  I  will  stand 
by  thee,  and  preserve  thee ;  thou  shalt  take  no  harm  :  what  an  encourage- 
ment were  this  !    Oh,  but  when  God  shall  say  to  a  Christian,  Walk  humbly 


826  THE  saint's  safety  in  evil  times. 

before  me,  keep  close  to  my  word,  be  stedfast  in  tbe  ways  of  holiness,  fear 
not  man,  you  are  under  my  protection  and  safeguard :  what  an  encom-age- 
ment  is  this  to  a  believing  soul ! 

But  put  case  we  cannot  be  preserved  from  death ;  for  so  it  was  here  with 
the  apostle,  he  died  a  bloody  death.  Why,  let  us  observe  his  blessed 
carriage  in  all  this,  and  do  hkewise.  I  regard  not  that,  saith  he  ;  do  your 
worst,  God  win  preserve  me  still.  So  it  should  be  the  bent  of  a  Chi-istian's 
soul  to  come  to  God  with  this  limitation,  in  his  faith  and  in  his  prayer : 
Lord,  if  thou  wilt  not  deliver  me  fi-om  sufl'ering  ill,  preserve  me  from  doing 
ill ;  if  thou  wilt  not  preserve  me  fi'om  death,  preserve  me  from  sinful  works. 
This  we  may  build  on,  that  either  God  will  preserve  us  in  life,  or  if  we  die, 
he  will  preserve  us  in  death  to  his  heavenly  kingdom.  And  sometimes  God 
preserves  by  not  preserving  from  death ;  for  indeed  death  keeps  a  man  from 
all  danger  whatsoever.  He  is  out  of  all  gun-shot,  when  he  is  once  dead. 
Death  is  a  deliverance  and  a  preservation  of  itself :  it  sends  a  man  to 
heaven  straight ;  and  therefore  the  apostle  knew  what  he  said, '  The  Lord  will 
preserve  me  to  his  heavenly  kingdom.' 

That  is,  he  will  preserve  me  till  I  be  possessed  of  heaven  ;  he  will  go 
along  with  me  in  aU  the  passages  of  my  life  ;  he  will  cany  me  through  aU, 
and  bring  me  thither  at  last.  As  the  angel  that  struck  off  Peter's  bolts, 
*  shined  in  the  prison,'  Acts  xii.  7,  and  carried  him  out  into  the  city,  so 
God  by  his  Spirit  shines  into  our  souls,  and  carries  us  through  all  the 
passages  of  this  life,  never  leaving  us,  till  he  have  brought  us  to  his 
heavenly  kingdom. 

And  not  to  open  unto  you  things  that  are  beyond  my  conceit,  much  more 
my  expression,  what  a  state  this  heavenly  kingdom  is,  unto  which  St  Paul 
hoped  to  be  preserved  !  Observe,  briefly,  thus  much  :- — 1,  It  is  a  kingdom 
of  aU  conditions  the  freest ;  2,  the  most  glorious  ;  3,  the  most  abundant  in 
all  supplies  ;  4,  it  is  a  heavenly  kingdom  ;  6,  it  is  an  everlasting  kingdom. 

The  excellency  of  the  heavenly  kingdom.  Things,  the  nearer  the  heavens 
they  are,  the  purer  they  are.  1,  heaven  is  a  most  holy  kingdom  :  no  un- 
cleanness  can  enter  there  ;  2,  it  is  a  large  kingdom  ;  and  3,  an  everlasting 
kingdom.  Other  men's  kingdoms  determine  with  their  persons  ;  perhaps 
they  may  live  to  out-live  their  glory  in  the  world,  as  Nero  did  (the  king 
that  Paul  was  under  now,  when  he  wrote  this  epistle),  who  came  to  a  base 
end.  But  this  kingdom  can  never  be  shaken.  God's  preservation  shall 
end  in  eternal  glory. 

Use  1.  Here  is  a  special  ground  to  God's  children  of  perseverance  in  icell- 
doing.  What !  doth  God  undertake  even  from  himself,  to  deliver  us  from 
evil  works,  which  might  endanger  our  salvation,  and  to  preserve  us  until  he 
have  put  us  into  heaven  !  Where  is  the  popish  doctrine  of  falling  away, 
then  ?  Obj.  Oh,  but  I  may  sin,  and  so  fall  away.  Sol.  Aye,  but  God 
will  dehver  us  from  evil  works  ;  he  takes  away  that  objection.  He  that 
keeps  heaven  for  us,  keeps  us  for  heaven,  till  he  have  put  us  into  posses- 
sion of  it,  '  We  are  kept  (we  are  guarded  (k),  as  the  word  is)  by  the 
power  of  God  to  salvation,'  1  Pet.  i.  5.  Salvation  is  kept  for  us,  and  we 
for  that.  If  we  endanger  heaven  any  way,  it  is  by  lU  works,  and  God  keeps 
us  from  them.     What  a  most  comfortable  doctrine  is  this ! 

Use  2.  But,  to  add  a  second  against  that  foolish,  vain,  and  proud  point 
of  popish  merit.  We  see  what  a  strain  they  are  in.  1.  Before  conversion 
they  will  have  merit  of  congruity,  that  it  befits  the  goodness  of  God,  when 
we  do  what  we  can,  that  we  should  have  grace.  2.  When  we  are  in  the 
state  of  grace,  they  will  have  merit  of  condignity ;  but  how  can  that  be, 


THE  saint's  safety  IN  EVIL  TIMES.  827 

whenas  free  grace  runs  along  in  all  ?  God  preserves  us  from  evil  works, 
and  preserves  us  to  his  heavenly  kingdom,  of  his  mere  love  and  mercy. 
Where  then  is  the  merit  of  man  ?  Indeed,  we  do  good  when  we  do  good, 
but  God  enables  us ;  we  speak  to  the  praise  of  God,  but  he  opens  our 
mouth ;  we  believe,  but  God  draws  om-  heart  to  it :  as  Austin  says,  we 
move,  but  God  moves  us.* 

Use  3.  I  beseech  you,  observe  further  here  :  Hoiv  complete  GocVs  favours 
are  to  his.  He  deals  like  a  God,  that  is,  fully  and  eternally,  with  his  chil- 
dren. If  he  deliver,  it  is  from  the  greatest  evil ;  if  he  preserve,  it  is  to  the 
greatest  good.  Who  would  not  serve  such  a  master  ?  Oh,  the  baseness 
of  the  vile  heart  of  man,  that  is  a  slave  to  inferior  things,  and  afraid  to 
displease  men,  never  considering  what  a  blessed  condition  it  is,  to  be  under 
the  government  of  a  gracious  God,  that  will  keep  us  from  ill,  if  it  be  for 
our  good,  for  ever,  outwardly  from  evil  works,  inwardly  from  the  terrors  of 
an  iU  conscience,  that  will  preserve  us  here  in  this  world,  and  give  us 
heaven  when  we  have  done.  I  beseech  you,  let  this  complete  and  fuU 
dealing  of  God  quicken  us  to  a  holy  courage  and  constancy  in  his  service. 

Use  4.  And  see  here  a  poi)U  of  heavenly  wisdom  ;  to  look,  when  ive  are  in 
any  danger,  with  the  apostle,  to  the  heavenly  kingdom.  When  we  are  sick, 
look  not  at  death.  Paul  cared  not  for  that,  but  says  he,  *  The  Lord  will 
preserve  me  to  his  kingdom.'  He  looked  to  the  bank  of  the  shore.  As  a 
man  that  goes  through  a  river  hath  his  eye  still  on  the  shore,  so  the  apostle 
had  his  eye  fixed  upon  heaven  still.  I  beseech  you  therefore,  in  all  dangers 
and  distresses  whatsoever,  if  you  would  keep  your  souls  without  discourage- 
ments, as  you  should,  be  much  in  heaven  in  your  thoughts,  minding  the 
things  above,  and  conversing  with  God  in  your  spirits.  Look  to  the  crown 
that  is  held  out  to  us  ;  let  our  minds  be  in  heaven  before  our  souls.  It  is 
a  wondrous  help  to  our  weakness  in  the  time  of  trouble,  not  to  think,  I  am 
full  of  pain,  I  must  be  turned  into  the  grave,  and  rot,  and  what  shall  be- 
come of  me  then?  &c.  Away  with  this  carnal  reasoning.  It  much  weakens 
faith,  and  damps  the  hearts  of  Christians. 

Use  5.  Again,  How  doth  this  arm  the  soul  with  invincible  courage  in  any 
trouble.  God  may  call  me  to  trouble,  but  he  will  preserve  me  in  it  that  I 
shall  not  stain  my  conscience.  What  a  ground  of  patience  is  this!  Patience 
is  too  mean  a  word  ;  what  a  grormd  of  joy  and  triumphing  is  it !  '  We  rejoice 
under  the  hope  of  glory,'  Rom.  v.  2.  A  Christian  should  triumph  in  soul 
over  all  evils  whatsoever,  and  be,  as  the  apostle  saith,  '  more  than  a  con- 
queror,' Rom.  viii.  37  ;  considering  that  God  will  be  present  with  him  all 
his  life  long,  and  after  that,  bring  him  to  an  everlasting  kingdom.  What  an 
encouragement  is  this  !  Heaven  is  holy,  and  shall  we  not  fit  ourselves  for 
that  blessed  estate  ?  There  is  much  holiness  required  for  heaven ;  the  sin- 
ful, wicked,  malicious,  poisonful  world,  lays  reproaches  upon  holiness  ;  but 
'  without  it  no  man  shall  see  God,'  Heb.  xii.  24.  Doth  that  man  believe 
he  shall  obtain  a  heavenly  kingdom,  who  never  fits  himself  with  holiness  for  it  ? 
Oh  no ; '  Faith  and  hope  have  this  efiicacy  in  the  breast,  wheresoever  they  are, 
to  frame  the  heart  to  the  thing  believed.'  If  I  believe  a  kingdom  to  be  where 
righteousness  and  holiness  dwelleth,  this  belief  forceth  me  to  carrj'  myself 
answerable  to  the  state  there,  2  Pet.  iii.  13.  And  therefore,  saith  the 
apostle,  '  our  conversation  [I)  is  in  heaven,  from  whence  we  look  for  the 
Saviour,'  &c.,  Philip,  iii.  20.  Because  he  was  assured  of  heaven,  therefore 
he  conversed  as  a  citizen  of  heaven  before  he  came  there.     He  praised  God, 

*  '  We  move,  but  God  moves  us.'  A  frequent  saying  in  his  '  Confessions.'  Con- 
sult Book  VII.,  iii.  4.~G. 


328  THE  SAINT  S  SAFETY  IN  EVIL  TIMES. 

kept  himself  undefiled  of  the  world,  and  conversed  with  the  best  people  ; 
eveiy  way  he  carried  himself,  as  much  as  earth  would  suffer  him,  as  they 
.do  in  heaven.  Certainly,  '  he  that  hath  the  hope  of  a  heavenly  kingdom, 
is  pure  as  Christ  is  pure,'  1  John  iii.  3.  He  endeavours  and  aims  to  be 
holy  as  God  is  holy,  who  hath  called  him.  Faith  is  of  efficacj  to  conform 
a  Christian's  carriage  to  the  likeness  of  him  whom  he  believes  to  be  so  ex- 
cellent. And  therefore  they  are  infidels,  and  have  no  saving  faith  ;  profane 
persons,  who  live  in  sins  that  stain  their  consciences,  and  blemish  their 
conversation,  not  believing  that  there  is  a  heaven.  *  Deceive  not  your- 
selves ;  neither  whoremongers,  nor  adulterers,  nor  extortioners,'  &c., 
1  Cor.  vi.  9,  shall  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God.  Do  men  who  hve  in  these 
sins,  without  remorse,  think  to  come  to  heaven  ?  as  though  they  should 
come  out  of  the  puddle  to  heaven  ?  No,  no ;  *  away,  you  workers  of  iniquity, 
I  know  you  not,'  Mat.  xxv.  41,  saith  Christ.  Let  no  man  cherish  pre- 
sumptions of  a  heavenly  kingdom,  except  he  abstain  from  all  sins  against 
conscience.  The  apostle,  when  he  would  ui-ge  to  holiness  of  life,  uses  this 
argument :  '  If  you  be  risen  with  Christ,  seek  those  things  that  are  above, 
where  Christ  is,  at  the  right  hand  of  the  Father,'  Col.  iii.  1. 

WeU,  let  us  oft,  I  beseech  you,  present  unto  our  souls  the  blessed  con- 
dition to  come,  which  will  be  efiectual  to  quicken  and  stir  us  up  to  every 
good  duty,  and  comfort  us  in  all  conditions  whatsoever.  What  will  a  maE 
care  for  crosses  and  losses  and  disgraces  in  the  world,  that  thinks  of  a 
heavenly  kingdom  ?  What  will  a  man  care  for  ill  usage  in  his  pilgrimage, 
when  he  knows  he  is  a  king  at  home  ?  We  are  all  strangers  upon  earth, 
now  in  the  time  of  our  absence  from  God ;  what  if  we  suffer  indignities, 
considering  that  we  have  a  better  estate  to  come,  when  we  shall  be  some- 
body !  What  if  we  pass  unknown  in  the  world !  It  is  safe  that  we  should 
do  so  ;  God  will  preserve  us  to  his  heavenly  kingdom,  and  aU  that  we  suffer 
and  endure  here,  it  is  but  a  fitting  for  that  place.  David  was  a  king 
anointed  many  years  ere  he  was  actually  possessed  of  his  kingdom  ;  but  all 
that  time  between  his  anointing  and  his  investing  into  the  kingdom,  it  was 
a  preparation  of  him  by  humility,  that  he  might  know  himself,  and  learn 
fitness  to  govern  aright.  So  we  are  anointed  kings  as  soon  as  we  beheve ; 
for  when  we  believe  in  Christ,  who  is  a  king,  priest,  and  prophet,  we  com- 
municate with  his  offices  ;  we  have  the  same  blessed  anointing  poured  on  our 
head,  and  runs  down  about  us,  Ps.  cxxxiii.  2.  But  we  must  be  humbled 
by  crosses,  and  fitted  for  it;  we  must  be  drawn  more  out  of  the  world,  and 
be  heavenly-minded  first. 

Rules  to  discern  ichat  our  interest  in  heaven  is.  Would  you  know  some 
rules  of  discerning  whether  heaven  belongs  to  you  or  not  ?  In  brief,  do  but 
remember  the  qualification  of  them  that  must  reign  ;  those  that  labour  daily 
to  purge  themselves  of  all  pride  and  self-confidence  ;  that  see  no  excellency 
in  the  creature,  in  comparison  of  heaven ;  that  see  a  vanity  in  all  outward 
things  which  makes  them  humble  in  the  midst  of  all  their  bravery;  those  that 
Bee  themselves  empty  of  all,  without  God's  favour,  '  the  poor  in  spirit, 
&c.,  theirs,'  saith  Christ,  '  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven,'  Mat.  v.  3. 

2.  Faith  makes  iis  kings,  because  thereby  we  marry  the  King  of  heaven  ; 
the  church  is  the  queen  of  heaven,  and  Christ  is  the  king  of  heaven. 
Where  this  grace  is  in  truth,  happiness  belongs  to  that  soul. 

3.  Those  that  are  kings  have  a  royal  spirit.  The  hopes  of  a  young  prince 
puts  into  him  a  great  deal  of  spirit,  otherwise,  perhaps,  above  his  disposition. 
So  all  that  are  kings  have  a  royal  spirit  in  some  measure,  which  raiseth  them 
above  all  earthly  things,  and  maketh  them  see  all  other  things  to  be  nothing 


THE  saint's  safety  IN  EVIL  TIMES.  829 

in  comparison  of  Christ,  to  be  but  '  dross  and  dung,'  as  holy  St  Paul  saith, 
Philip,  iii.  8.  Those  therefore  that  are  slaves  to  their  base  lusts,  to  riches, 
honour,  pleasure,  &c.,  know  not  what  belongs  to  this  heavenly  kingdom. 
What,  do  men  think  to  reign  in  heaven,  when  they  cannot  reign  over  their 
own  base  corruptions !  We  see  David  prays  to  God  for  an  '  enlarged  spirit,' 
Ps.  li.  12,  that  he  might  be  capable  of  the  best  things;  and  certainly  those 
that  have  this  knowledge  are  of  a  spirit  above  the  world,  '  more  excellent 
than  their  neighbours,'  as  the  wise  man  saith,  Prov.  xii.  26.  You  cannot 
shake  them  with  offers  of  preferment,  or  with  fears  ;  they  will  not  venture 
their  hope  of  eternity  for  this  or  that  base  earthly  thing ;  they  are  of  a  more 
royal  spirit  than  so. 

I  beseech  you  therefore,  let  us  discern  of  our  spirits  what  they  are  ; 
whether  God  hath  estabhshed  us  with  a  free  spirit  or  not.  The  kingdom  of 
heaven  is  begun  upon  earth ;  the  door  whereby  we  must  enter  in  is  here. 
Those  graces  must  be  begun  here  which  must  fit  us  for  happiness  hereafter.' 
As  the  *  stones  of  the  temple,'  1  Kings  vi.  7,  were  first  hewn  and  then  laid 
upon  the  temple,  so  we  must  be  hewn  and  fashioned  here,  ere  we  can  come 
thither.  Those  that  are  not  fitted  and  squared  now,  must  never  think  to  be 
used  of  God  as  living  stones  of  his  temple  then.  A  word  now  of  Paul's  use  of 
all,  and  so  I  conclude : 

*  To  ivhom  he  glory  for  ever  and  ever.'' 

When  he  had  mentioned  the  heavenly  kingdom,  and  set  himself  by  faith, 
as  it  were,  in  possession  of  it,  he  presently  begins  the  employment  oi 
heaven,  '  to  praise  and  glorify  God,'  even  whilst  he  was  on  earth.  For  faith 
stirs  us  up  to  do  that  which  we  shall  do,  when  we  obtain  the  thing  beheved. 
It  is  called  '  the  evidence  of  things  not  seen,'  Heb.  xi.  1 ;  and  makes  them, 
as  it  were,  present  to  the  soul.  Because  when  we  are  in  heaven  indeed,  we 
shall  do  nothing  else  but  praise  God.  Faith  apprehends  it,  as  if  he  were 
now  there,  for  all  is  sure  to  faith,  God  having  said  it,  who  will  do  it ;  and 
sets  the  soul  upon  that  employment  here,  which  it  shall  have  eternally  with 
God  hereafter. 

It  is  therefore  Christian  wisdom,  to  fix  our  souls  on  good  meditations,  to 
have  them  wedded  to  good  thoughts,  to  have  those  prccclaras  cogitationes,  be- 
fitting Christians,  that  may  lead  us  comfortably  in  our  way  to'heaven.  Let 
a  man  think  of  God's  deliverances  past,  and  that  will  strengthen  his  faith 
for  the  future  deliverances.  Let  him  think  of  future  deliverances,  and  that 
will  lead  him  to  a  kingdom,  to  praise  God  ;  and  this  praising  of  God  will 
stretch  his  soul,  for  ever  and  for  ever  ;  as  if  there  were  no  time  sufficient  to 
glonfy  God,  that  is  so  excellent  and  glorious.  What  a  blessed  condition  is 
this,  to  have  God's  Spirit  warming  our  souls  and  perfuming  our  spirits  with 
holy  ejaculations,  continually  putting  us  upon  the  employment  of  heaven, 
till  at  length  it  hath  safely  brought  us  thither. 

Here  then  is  the  use  of  all  uses.  What  is  the  former  use  which  Paul 
makes  of  the  experience  of  God's  dehverance  ?  The  Lord  hath  delivered 
-ne,  and  therefore  he  will  dehver  me.  But  what  use  doth  he  make  of  this, 
iat  God  will  dehver  him  ?  To  glorify  God.  Here  is  the  end  of  all  ends, 
.0  praise  God.  Happy  we  when  God's  end  and  our  end  meet  together.  He 
lath  made  all  for  his  own  glory ;  and  when  we,  with  a  single  eye,  can  aim  at 
ihat  too,  what  a  sweet  harmony  is  there  ! 

1.  To  direct  us  in  this  duty  in  praising  God,  let  us  with  Paul,  for  I  go 
no  further  than  the  text  leads  me,  seriously  meditate  on  God's  mercies,  both 
past  and  to  come.  Nothing  moves  thankfulness  more  than  this.  A  Christian 
when  he  looks  backward  hath  comfort,  and  when  he  looks  forward  he  sees 


880  THE  saint's  safety  in  EVUi  TIMES. 

comfort  still :  for  preservation,  and  kingdoms,  and  crowns  abide  for  him. 
If  a  man  would  praise  God,  therefore,  let  him  consider  how  graciously  God 
hath  dealt  with  him.  He  hath  delivered  me  already  by  Jesus  Christ,  from 
ein  and  eternal  wrath ;  and  he  will  deliver  me  from  every  evil  work  to  come, 
that  may  endanger  my  salvation.  Think  of  these  things,  and  see  whether 
your  hearts  can  be  cold  and  dead  or  no  ;  see  if  your  spirits  can  be  strait- 
ened. Certainly  both  heart  and  mouth  will  be  full.  Thou  canst  not  but 
say,  in  the  apprehension  of  God's  mercies,  *To  him  be  glory  for  ever.' 

2.  Consider  the  kinds  of  favours  thou  receivest.  They  are  either  positive  or 
privative,  spiritual  or  temporal.  Positive — the  Lord  will  preserve  me  ; 
privative — the  Lord  will  deliver  me  from  every  evil  work.  Temporal — the 
Lord  ki  this  life  will  keep  me  ;  spiritual — he  wiU  deliver  me  from  the  power 
of  sin.  Eternal — he  will  preserve  me  to  his  heavenly  kingdom.  Think 
forward  or  backward,  outward  or  inward,  spiritual  or  temporal :  wherever 
you  look,  tell  me  if  you  can  do  otherwise  than  break  out  with  the  holy 
apostle  in  the  praises  of  so  good  a  God. 

And  3.  Think  of  the  greatness  of  all  these:  the  greatness  of  the  deliverance 
from  sin  and  damnation.  The  apostle,  to  make  himself  the  more  thankful, 
saith  he  was  delivered  out  of  the  mouth  of  the  Uon.  He  had  large  appre- 
hensions of  God's  goodness.  So  should  we,  beloved,  consider  the  great- 
ness of  the  misery  we  are  in  by  nature,  being  slaves  of  Satan,  in  danger  to 
slip  into  hell  every  moment ;  and  when  God  hath  secured  us  from  this, 
think  of  the  greatness  of  the  benefit,  a  '  heavenly  kingdom.'  When  we  think, 
not  only  of  the  benefits,  but  of  the  greatness  of  them,  it  is  a  wondrous  en- 
couragement to  be  thankful.  Labour  then  to  have  a  due  and  high  esteem 
of  every  mercy.  God  hath  brought  us  out  of  darkness  into  marvellous  light, 
saith  the  apostle,  1  Pet.  ii.  9 ;  great  is  the  mystery  of  godliness,  1  Tim.  iii. 
16  ;  and  the  unsearchable  riches  of  his  grace,  Eph.  iii.  8.  He  had  not  words 
big  enough  to  express  God's  goodness.  *  Oh,  the  height,  and  breadth,  and 
depth,  and  length  of  his  love,'  Eph.  ii.  18.  When  we  consider  these 
dimensions,  our  thankfulness  must  be  answerable. 

4.  Again,  if  you  would  be  thankful,  labour  to  have  humble  spirits,  to  see 
God  in  all  things ;  and  then  you  will  sacrifice  to  him  alone ;  not  to  thy  parts 
and  graces,  friends,  abilities,  &c.  The  meek  are  fit  to  pray  to  God. 
*  Seek  the  Lord,  ye  meek  of  the  earth,'  Zeph.  ii.  8 ;  and  an  humbled,  meek, 
Boul,  is  the  fittest  tc  praise  God  of  any  other.  He  that  knows  ho  is  worthy 
of  nothing,  wiU  bless  God  for  anything.  He  that  knows  he  hath  nothing 
in  himself,  will  be  thankful  for  the  least  measure  of  grace.  An  humble 
BOul  is  a  thankful  soul.  We  see  it  was  Paul's  disposition  here.  He  gives 
all  to  God,  which  makes  him  so  break  out  in  praising  his  name. 

5.  Again,  if  we  would  be  thankful,  as  Paul  here,  and  begin  heaven  upon 
earth,  labour  to  be  assured  of  salvation,  and  perseverance  in  thy  Christian 
course.  The  papists,  that  speak  against  assurance  and  perseverance,  kill 
prayer  and  praising  of  God.  Shall  a  man  praise  God  for  that  which  he 
doubts  of  ?  I  cannot  tell  whether  God  wiU  damn  me  or  not ;  perhaps  I 
am  but  fitted  as  a  sheep  to  the  slaughter,  &c.  How  shall  a  man  praise  God 
for  any  blessing  he  enjoys,  when  these  thoughts  are  still  with  him  ?  How 
shall  a  man  praise  God  for  salvation,  when  perhaps  he  shall  not  come  to 
it  ?  How  shall  a  man  praise  God  for  that  which  perhaps  he  may  fall  from 
before  he  die  ?  when  perhaps  he  is  God's  to-day,  and  may  be  the  devil's 
to-morrow  ?  How  can  there  be  a  hearty  thanks,  but  when  a  man  can  say, 
'  The  Lord  wiU  deliver  me  from  every  evil  work,'  that  by  mine  own  weak- 
ness, and  Satan's  malice,  I  may  occasionally  fall  into,  betwixt  this  and 


THE  saint's  safety  IN  EVIL  TIMES.  831 

heaven?  Therefore,  if  we  would  praise  God  as  we  should,  let  us  work  our 
hearts  to  laboiu*  after  assurance  of  God's  favour;  let  us  redeem  our  precious 
time,  and  every  day  set  some  time  apart  to  strengthen  our  evidences  for 
heaven,  which  will  set  us  in  a  continual  frame  to  every  good  work. 

Thus  we  see,  out  of  Paul's  example,  how  we  should  be  disposed  here,  to 
be  in  heaven  before  our  time.  For  undoubtedly  he  who  praiseth  God  is  so 
much  in  heaven,  as  he  is  given  to  thankfulness ;  for  he  is  in  that  employment 
now,  which  shall  be  there  altogether.  But  how  long  doth  he  desire  that 
God  should  have  glory  ?    For  ever  and  ever. 

Obs.  A  Christian  should  have  the  extent  of  his  desires  of  God^s  glory  carried 
to  eternity.  Upon  what  ground  ?  Because  God  intends  him  glory  for  ever 
and  ever.  A  Christian  that  is  assured  of  his  salvation,  is  assured  that  God 
will  eternally  glorify  him.  He  knows  that  Christ  is  king  for  ever ;  he 
knows  that  Christ  is  a  priest  for  ever ;  he  knows  that  the  state  and  condition 
that  he  is  kept  for,  is  everlasting  :  '  it  is  an  inheritance  immortal  and  un- 
defiled,  thatfadeth  not  away,'  1  Pet.  i.  4;  and  therefore  he  saith.  Hath  God 
eternal  thoughts  of  my  good  ?  and  is  Christ  an  eternal  head,  an  eternal 
king  to  rule  me,  both  in  life  and  in  death  ?  Surely  I  will  extend  my 
desires  of  his  glory  as  far  as  he  extends  his  purpose  to  do  me  good.  Now, 
his  pui"pose  to  do  me  good  is  for  eternity,  and  my  desire  that  he  may  have 
glory  shall  be  for  eternity,  world  ivithout  end,  Eph.  iii.  21.  This  is  the 
disposition  of  a  gracious  soul,  not  that  God  may  be  honoured  by  him  alone, 
but  of  all.  To  whom  be  praise,  not  by  me,  but  by  all.  I  am  not  sufficient 
enough  to  praise  him.  To  him  be  praises  in  the  churches,  throughout  all 
ages,  for  ever.  David  had  not  largeness  enough  in  himself  to  bless  God  ; 
and  therefore  he  stirs  up  his  spirits  and  all  within  him  to  praise  his  holy 
name,  Ps.  ciii.  1,  as  if  all  were  too  little  to  set  out  the  glory  of  God's  infinite 
goodness,  mercy,  wisdom,  and  power :  those  gracious  attributes  that  shew 
themselves  glorious  in  bringing  man  to  salvation,  and  in  governing  the 
church. 

Use.  Learn  this  duty  therefore :  if  we  will  make  good  to  our  own  souls, 
that  we  are  in  the  state  of  grace,  we  must  plot  for  eternity,  and  endeavour  to  lay 
a  ground  and  foundation,  that  the  church  may  flourish  for  eternity.  No  man 
can  warrant  himself  to  be  a  good  Christian,  but  he  that  labours  to  have  the 
church  and  commonwealth  flourish  ;  to  have  a  happy  kingdom,  happy 
government,  and  happy  laws.  Not  only  to  have  the  church  in  his  own 
family,  but  that  the  chm'ch  may  flom'ish  in  those  that  stand  up  when  we 
are  gone  the  way  of  all  flesh  ;  and  therefore  to  declare  the  mind  of  God, 
and  his  favours  to  us,  and  our  children,  that  they  may  strengthen  their 
experience,  with  their  fathers'  experience,  and  say  to  God,  Thou  art  the 
God  of  my  fathers,  therefore  be  my  God.  Those  that  are  called  to  places 
of  dignity,  should  consider  that  it  is  required  at  their  hands  to  labour  that 
there  should  be  means  to  continue  religion,  even  to  the  world's  end,  if  it 
may  be,  and  to  stop  all  the  breaches  in  this  kind.  And  if  it  were  possible, 
it  were  to  be  wished  that  there  were  set  up  some  lights  in  all  the  dark  cor- 
ners of  this  kingdom,  that  might  shine  to  those  people  that  sit  in  darkness, 
and  in  the  shadow  of  death. 

2.  One  way  is,  to  have  a  care  that  there  he  no  breaches  made  upon  the 
sound  doctrine  that  is  left  unto  us,  and  hath  been  sealed  up  by  the  blood  of  so 
many  martyrs.  We  had  it  dearly.  It  hath  been  taught  by  our  forefathers, 
and  sealed  with  their  blood ;  and  shall  we  betray  it  ?  No  ;  let  us  labour 
to  deliver  it  to  our  posterity,  from  hand  to  hand,  to  the  coming  of  Christ ; 
and  then  we  shall  in  effect,  and  not  in  word  only,  do  that  which  Paul  saith 


832  THE  SAINT  S  SAT^TY  IN  EVIL  TIMES., 

here — labour  to  glorify  God  for  ever  and  ever,  both  in  the  church  and  in 
heaven.  Surely  those  that  will  glorify  God  in  heaven,  he  will  have  them  so 
disposed  to  glorify  him  on  earth. 

It  is  a  dangerous  thing  when  persons  are  naught.  We  see  what  comes  of 
it,  especially  if  they  be  great.  It  is  said  of  Manasseh,  when  God  had  for- 
given him  his  sin,  yet  afterwards  God  plagued  the  kingdom  for  the  sins 
that  Manasseh  committed,  2  Engs  xxiv.  3.  How  can  this  be  ?  Be- 
cause he  by  his  sin,  though  he  repented  himself,  yet  set  the  kingdom  in  an 
evil  frame.  And  no  question  but  he  had  naughty  principles ;  and  among 
people  that  are  given  to  licentiousness,  if  there  be  anything  in  great  men, 
it  will  go  to  posterity  after  them.  So  that  when  governors  are  naught,  they 
are  not  only  a  poison  to  the  church  and  state  while  they  live,  but  the  mis- 
chief of  it  is  after  and  after  still.  And  so  it  is  in  the  best  things.  K  the 
governor  be  good,  he  lays  a  foundation  of  good  for  the  kingdom  in  time  to 
come,  as  well  as  for  his  own  time. 

How  will  it  shame  a  man  when  he  shall  think,  I  do  these  things  now,  but 
what  will  posterity  think  of  me  ?  what  will  be  the  remembrance  of  it  when 
I  am  gone  ?  Then  my  name  will  stink.  The  wicked  emperor  Nero  was 
of  this  resolution  when  he  should  die  :  '  Let  heaven  and  earth  mingle  to- 
gether,' saith  he,  '  when  I  am  gone.'*  He  knew  himself  to  be  so  naught, 
and  that  he  should  be  so  evil  spoken  of,  that  he  wished  there  were  no  pos- 
terity, but  that  the  world  might  end  with  him.  So  it  is  the  wishes  of  those 
that  are  wretches  themselves,  and  that  lay  a  foundation  of  wretched  times 
after.  They  wish  that  heaven  and  earth  may  mingle,  that  no  man  might 
censure  them  when  they  are  gone.  What  a  shameful  condition  is  it  for 
men  to  gratify  a  number  of  unruly  lusts,  and  give  such  sway  to  them  as  to 
do  ill  while  they  live,  and  to  lay  a  foundation  of  misery  for  after  times. 

On  the  contrary,  what  a  good  thing  is  it,  like  Josiah  and  Nehemiah,  to 
be  full  of  goodness  while  we  hve,  and  to  lay  a  foundation  of  happiness  and 
prosperity  to  the  church  and  state  when  we  are  gone !  What  a  happy  thing 
is  it,  when  a  man  is  gone,  to  say  such  a  man  did  such  a  thing !  He  stood 
stoutly  for  the  church,  for  religion ;  he  was  a  public  man  ;  he  forgot  his 
own  private  good  for  the  public ;  he  deserved  well  of  the  times  wherein  he 
lived.  What  a  blessed  commendation  is  this,  next  to  heaven,  to  have  a 
blessed  report  on  earth,  and  to  carry  such  a  conscience  as  will  comfort  a 
man  that  he  hath  carried  himself  well,  and  abounded  in  well-doing. 

I  beseech  you  let  us  think  of  this  '  for  ever  and  ever.'  It  is  not  enough 
that  we  be  good  in  our  times  that  are  circumscribed  to  us.  But  as  God 
hath  given  us  immortal  souls,  and  preserves  us  to  immortal  glory,  and  a 
crown  of  immortality,  so  let  our  thoughts  and  desires  be  immortal,  that 
God  may  be  glorified  in  the  church,  world  without  end.  Oh,  what  a  sweet 
comfort  will  it  be  when  we  are  on  our  deathbed,  to  think  what  we  have 
done  in  our  lifetimes !  Then  all  our  good  actions  will  come  and  meet  to- 
gether, to  comfort  and  refresh  our  souls. 

Encouragements  to  glorify  God.  The  better  to  encourage  us  to  glorify 
God  while  we  are  here,  and  to  lay  a  foundation  to  eternise  his  glory  for  the 
time  to  come,  consider,  1.  God's  gracious  promise:  '  Those  that  honour  me 
I  will  honour,'  1  Sam.  ii.  30.  If  we  had  enlarged  hearts  to  honour  God, 
God  would  honour  us.  He  hath  passed  his  word  for  it.  If  a  king  should 
say  so,  0  how  would  we  be  set  on  fire !  how  much  more  when  the  King 
of  kings  saith  it ! 

*  The  dying  saying  of  Nero  has  been  recorded,  '  Dedecorose  vixi,  turpius  peream.' 
—See  Tacitus,  lib.  xv. — G. 


IHE  saint's  safety  IN  EVIL  TIMES.  833 

2.  Consider  that  we  honour  ourselves  when  we  honour  God.  Nay,  the 
more  we  honour  God,  the  more  we  are  bound  to  God ;  for  it  is  from  him 
that  we  honour  him.  The  sacrifice  comes  from  him,  as  well  as  the  matter 
for  which  we  sacrifice.  He  found  a  ram  for  Abraham  to  sacrifice,  Gen. 
xxii.  13.  He  gives  the  heart  to  be  thankful.  The  more  we  are  thankful, 
the  more  we  shall  be  thankful,  and  the  more  we  ought  to  be  thankful  for 
our  thankfulness. 

8.  The  more  ive  praise  God,  the  more  ive  should  praise  him,  for  it  is  the  gift 
of  God.  When  God  sees  we  honour  him,  and  frame  ourselves  that  we  may 
be  such  as  may  honour  him,  by  emptying  and  disabling  ourselves  to  be 
sufficient  to  do  him  any  service,  he  will  bestow  more  upon  us.  As  men  cast 
seed  upon  seed  where  there  is  fruitful  ground,  but  they  will  sow  nothing  upon 
a  barren  heath.  So  the  more  we  set  ourselves  to  do  good  in  our  places, 
the  more  we  shall  have  advantage  thereunto ;  and  the  more  we  do  good, 
the  more  we  shall  do  good.  When  God  sees  we  improve  our  talents  so 
well  that  he  trusts  us  withal,  he  will  trust  us  with  more. 

4.  Again,  consider  our  glorifying  and  praising  God  causeth  others  to  do  so, 
which  is  the  main  end  wherefore  we  live  in  this  world.  It  is  the  employ- 
ment of  heaven,  and  we  are  so  much  in  heaven  as  we  are  about  this  work. 
And  when  God  gives  us  hearts  to  glorify  him  here,  it  is  a  good  pledge  that 
he  will  afterward  glorify  us  in  heaven.  Who  would  lose  the  comfort  of  all  this, 
to  be  barren,  and  yield  to  his  base,  unbelieving,  dead  heart  ?  to  save  a  Uttle 
here  ?  to  sleep  in  a  whole  skin  ?  and  adventure  upon  no  good  action  ? 
Trbo  v.ould  not  rather  take  a  course  that  Lath  such  large  encouragements 
attending  it  both  in  life  and  death  ?  I  beseech  you  think  of  these  things. 
Christ,  ere  long,  will  come  to  be  glorified  in  all  those  that  beheve,  2  Thes. 
i.  10.  He  will  come  to  be  glorified  in  his  saints.  Our  glory  tends  to  his 
glory.  Shall  we  not  glorify  him  all  we  can  here,  by  setting  forth  his  truth, 
by  countenancing  his  children  and  servants,  by  doing  good,  and  deserving 
well  of  ungrateful  times  we  live  in  ?  Let  men  be  as  unthankful  as  they 
will,  we  look  not  to  them,  but  to  the  honour  of  God,  the  credit  of  reli- 
gion, the  maintenance  of  the  truth,  &c.  Let  men  be  as  they  will  be,  base 
and  wicked,  enemies  to  gi-ace  and  goodness,  we  do  it  not  to  them,  but  to 
God.  Consider  this.  Will  Christ  come  from  heaven  ere  long  to  be  glori- 
fied in  us,  and  shall  not  we  labour  to  glorify  him  while  we  are  here  ?  He 
will  never  come  to  be  glorified  in  any  hereafter,  but  those  that  glorify  him 
now.  As  we  look,  therefore,  that  he  should  be  glorified  in  us,  and  by  us, 
let  us  glorify  him  now ;  for  so  he  condescends  to  vouchsafe  to  be  glorified 
in  us  and  by  us,  that  he  may  also  glorify  us. 

Quest.  St  Paul  saith,  the  wife  is  the  gloiy  of  the  husband,  1  Cor.  xi.  7. 
What  means  he  by  this  ?  Solution.  That  is,  she  reflects  the  graces  of  a 
good  husband.  If  he  be  good,  she  is  good;  she  reflects  his  excellencies. 
So  let  every  Christian  soul  that  is  married  to  Christ,  be  the  gloiy  of  Christ, 
reflect  his  excellencies,  be  holy  as  he  is  holy,  1  Pet.  i.  15,  fruitful  as  he 
was  in  doing  good,  meek  and  humble  as  he  was ;  every  way  be  his  glory ; 
and  then,  undoubtedly,  when  he  comes  to  judge  us,  he  wiU  come  to  be  glo- 
rified in  us,  having  been  before  glorified  by  us. 

Beloved,  these  and  such  considerations  should  set  us  on  work  how  to  do 
Christ  aU  the  honour  we  can.  As  David  saith,  '  Is  there  any  of  Jonathan's 
posterity  aUve,  that  I  may  do  good  unto  them  for  his  sake  ?'  2  Sam.  ix.  1, 
80,  considering  we  shall  be  so  glorified  by  Christ,  and  that  he  will  do  so 
much  for  us  in  another  world,  we  should  inquire,  Is  there  any  of  Christ's 
posterity  here,  any  of  his  children  in  this  world,  that  I  may  do  good  unto 


834  THE  saint's  safety  in  evil  times. 

them  ?  Is  there  any  way  wherein  I  may  shew  my  thankfahiess,  and  I  will 
do  it  ?  Let  us  consider  that  we  shall  be  for  ever  and  ever  glorified.  The  ex- 
pression of  it  is  beyond  conceit.  We  shall  never  know  it  till  we  have  it. 
Let  this,  I  beseech  you,  stir  us  up  to  study  how  we  may  be  thankful  to  God, 
set  forth  his  glory,  and  deserve  well  of  the  church  and  times  wherein  we 
Hve.  God  hath  children  and  a  cause  in  the  world  which  he  dearly  loves, 
let  us  own  the  same,  and  stand  for  it  to  the  uttermost  of  our  power,  maugi'e 
all  the  spite  and  opposition  of  Satan  and  his  wicked  instruments. 

The  Lord  in  mercy  settle  these  truths  upon  our  hearts,  and  encourage 
us  in  his  most  holy  way. 


NOTES. 


(A)  P.  315. — '  I  find  that  most  ancient  and  modern  writers  by  lion  understand 

Nero This  is  the  common  view  of  '  the  Fathers  ;'  and,  of  contemporaries  of 

Sibbes,  of  Thomas  Hall  of  King's  Norton.  All  wishing  to  obtain  much  learning 
and  quaint  application  will  not  be  disappointed  if  they  consult  the  latter's  '  Exposition' 
of  2  Timothy,  c.  iii.-iv.  (folio,  1658).  See  pp.  449-50.  'When  we  consider  the 
position  of  the  apostle,'  observe  Webster  and  Wilkinson, '  the  good  confession  he  main- 
tained in  spite  of  desertion  and  discouragement,  we  may  reasonably  conceive  he  re- 
fers to  6  avridiKog  55/xwi'  diaSoXog  ug  Xiojv  oj^vofisvog,  1  Peter  v.  8.'  (Greek  Testa- 
ment, with  Notes  Grammatical  and  Exegetical,  vol.  ii.  1861.)  It  will  be  noticed  that 
Sibbes  adopts  the  impersonal  reference.  Psalm  xxii.  21,  Proverbs  xxvi.  13,  illustrate 
his  interpretation. 

(«■)  P.  316. — '  Jailor bowels  of  pity.'     See  this  subject  treated  with  no 

common  power  and  pathos  from  the  text,  Acts  xvi.  33,  '  He  washed  their  stripes,' 
by  Bishop  Brownrig,  who  succeeded  Sibbes  as  Master  of  Katherine  Hall.  ('  Ser- 
mons,' folio,  vol.  i.  pp.  273-291.) 

(j)  P.  318. — '  Casting  something  unto  these  lions,  to  divert  them  another  way.' 
A  singularly  beautiful  expansion  of  this  thought  may  here  be  given  from  a  volume 
of  '  Sermons,'  by  the  late  Kev.  Dr  Henderson  of  Galashiels,  with  whom  Sibbes  was 
an  especial  favourite  : — 

'  Death  is  the  last  enemy, — the  last  with  whom  the  believer  shall  be  called  to  con- 
tend during  his  period  of  conflict  and  trial.  When  the  struggle  is  over,  which  issues 
in  the  dissolution  of  his  earthly  tabernacle,  it  may  be  said  that  his  "  warfare  is  ac- 
complished," He  may  appear  to  the  eye  of  sense  to  sink  and  perish  in  the  mortal 
strife  ;  but  to  the  eye  of  faith,  in  the  view  of  the  angel  bands  who  look  on,  and  in 
his  sight  to  whom  belong  the  issues  from  death,  he  escapes  and  triumphs.  He  has 
passed  from  the  land  of  the  enemy — from  the  field  of  war  and  danger.  He  has  left 
his  body,  indeed,  behind,  a  prey  to  corruption.  Death  may  wreak  on  it  his  fury. 
But  it  is  as  one  who  has  thrown  down  his  garment  to  be  torn  and  trampled  by  the  wild 
beasts  in  its  rage  ;  while  he  himself  hastens  away  to  the  refuge  which  opens  before  him.  So 
does  the  soul  enter  into  rest.  .  .  .  '  (Sermons  on  Doctrinal  and  Practical  Subjects. 
1  vol.  8vo,  1843,  pp.  244-5.) 

{k)  P.  326. — '  We  are  kept  (we  are  guarded,  as  the  word  is).'  Sibbes  very  fre- 
quently quotes  this  text ;  and  invariably  returns  upon  his  rendering  of  'guarded'  in- 
stead of  '  kept.'  Demarest,  who  adopts  it,  may  profitably  be  consulted.  (Transla- 
tion and  Exp.  of  1  Peter.     New  York,  1851.) 

(I)  P.  327. — '  Our  conversation  is  in  heaven He  conversed  as  a  citizen  of 

heaven  before  he  came  there,  Philip  iii.  20.  The  original  is  rb  itMrix)^,^  =  com- 
monwealth, or  perhaps  citizenship.  Cf.  Ellicott  in  loc,  who  gives  the  literature  of 
the  text  and  word.  G. 


CHRIST  IS  BEST;  OR,  ST  PAUL'S  STRAIT. 


CHRIST  IS  BEST;  or,  ST  PAUL'S  STRAIT. 

Note. 

Christ  is  Best'  follows  the  '  Saint's  Safety  in  Evil  Times'  in  the  volume  described, 
(See  note  at  page  296).  Its  separate  title-page  is  given  below.*  It  forms  No.  11 
of  '  Saints'  Cordials,'  (2d  ed.  1637,  and  3d  ed.  1658) ;  and  is  therein  entitled, 
•  Christ  is  Best ;  or,  A  Sweet  Passage  to  Glory.' — G. 

•  Title-page — 

CHKIST  IS  BEST: 

OE, 

ST    PAUL'S    STRAIT, 

A 

Sermon  Peea- 
ohed  at  the  Funerall  of 
Mr  Sherland,  late  Recor- 
der of  Northampton. 
By  R.  SiBBS,  D.D.  [as  before]. 
Psal.  42.  2. 
London,  Printed  by  M.  F.  for  R.  Dawlman,  at  the 
Brazen  Serpent  in  Paul's  Church- 
yard.    1634.    8°. 


CHRIST   IS   BEST; 

OR, 

ST  PAUL'S  STEAIT. 


For  I  am  in  a  strait  between  two,  having  a  desire  to  depart,  and  to  be  with 
Christ,  which  is  best  of  all ;  nevertheless,  to  abide  in  the  flesh  is  most  need- 
ful/or you.— Phil.  1.  23,  24. 

The  apostle  Paul  here,  had  a  double  desire,  one  in  regard  of  himself,  to  be 
with  Christ ;  another,  out  of  his  love  of  God's  church  and  people,  to  abide 
still  in  the  flesh ;  and  between  these  two  he  is  in  a  great  strait,  not  knowing 
which  to  choose.  But  the  love  of  the  church  of  Christ  triumphed  in  him, 
above  the  love  of  his  own  salvation,  so  as  he  was  content,  out  of  self-denial, 
to  want  the  joys  of  heaven  for  a  time,  that  he  might  yet  further  comfort 
the  people  of  God. 

In  the  words  you  have,  1,  St  PauVs  straits;  2,  his  desires  that  caused 
them,  as  in  regard  of  himself,  which  was  to  be  with  Christ ;  so,  in  respect  of 
the  church  of  God,  which  was  to  abide  still  here ;  3,  the  reasons  of  both, 
(1)  to  be  ivith  Christ  is  far  better  for  me,  (2)  to  abide  in  the  flesh  more 
needful  for  you ;  and  4,  his  resolution  upon  all,  being  willing  for  the 
church's  good  still  to  abide  here,  rather  than  go  to  heaven  and  enjoy  his  own 
happiness. 

St  Paul's  soul  was  as  a  ship,  between  two  winds,  tossed  up  and  down,  and 
as  iron  between  two  loadstones,  drawn  first  one  way,  then  another ;  the  one 
loadstone  was  his  own  good,  to  be  in  heaven ;  the  other  was  the  good  of 
God's  people,  to  abide  still  in  the  flesh. 

Obs.  Observe  hence  that  the  servants  of  God  are  oftentimes  in  great  straits. 
Some  things  are  so  exceeding  bad  that,  without  any  deUberation  or  delay 
at  aU,  we  ought  presently  to  abominate  them,  as  Satan's  temptations  to 
sin,  to  distrust,  despair,  &c.  Some  things  also  are  so  good  that  we  should 
immediately  cleave  unto  them,  as  matters  of  religion  and  piety.  There 
should  be  no  delay  in  these  holy  businesses.  Deliberation  here,  argues 
weakness.  Some  things,  again,  are  of  an  ambiguous  and  doubtftd  nature, 
requiring  our  best  consideration.  Such  was  Paul's  strait  in  this  place.  He 
had  reasons  swaying  him  on  both  sides ;  and  such  is  the  happy  estate  of  a 
Christian,  that  whatsoever  he  had  chosen  had  been  well  for  him  ;  only,  God 
who  rules  our  judgments,  will  have  us  to  make  choice.     God  might  have 

VOL.  I.  Y 


338  OHBIST  IS  BEST. 

determined  whether  Paul  should  live  or  die,  but  he  would  not  without  Paul's 
choice.  That  which  is  good,  is  not  good  to  us,  but  upon  choice  and  advice. 
■  When  God  hath  given  us  abilities  to  discourse  and  examine  thmgs,  he  will 
have  us  make  use  of  them,  and  therefore  the  apostle  useth  reasons  on  both 
sides,  it  is  better  to  die  for  me,  it  is  better  to  Uve  for  you,  &c. 

Wicked  men  have  their  deliberations,  and  their  straits  too ;  but  it  is  with 
the  rich  man  in  the  gospel,  what  they  shaU  do,  how  they  may  pull  down 
their  barns,  and  build  bigger,  &c.,  Luke  xii.  18.  Their  main  strait  is  at 
the  hour  of  death  ;  live  they  cannot,  die  they  dare  not.  There  is  so  much 
guilt  of  sin  upon  their  consciences,  they  know  not  which  way  to  turn  them- 
selves. Oh,  what  fearful  straits  will  sin  bring  men  into  !  But  the  apostle 
was  straitened  in  an  higher  nature  than  this,  whether  it  were  better  for  the 
glory  of  God  (which  he  aimed  at  above  all)  for  him  to  go  to  heaven  and 
enjoy  happiness  in  his  own  person,  or  to  abide  still,  for  the  comfort  of  God's 
saints,  on  earth. 

The  ground  of  this  difficulty  and  strait  was  his  present  desire. 

I  have  a  desire.  Desires  are  the  immediate  issue  of  the  soul,  the  motion 
and  stii-ring  of  the  same  to  something  that  likes  it.  When  there  is  any- 
thing set  before  the  soul  having  a  magnetical  force,  as  the  loadstone,  to 
draw  out  the  motions  thereof,  we  caU  that  desire,  though  for  the  present  it 
enjoys  it  not. 

1.  St  Paul's  desire  was,  spiritual;  not  after  happiness,  so  much  as  holi- 
ness. '  0  miserable  man  that  I  am,'  saith  he,  '  who  shall  deliver  me  from 
this  body  of  death  ? '  Rom.  vii.  24.  His  desire  of  death  was  to  be  freed 
from  the  hocbj  of  sin,  more  than  to  be  taken  out  of  the  flesh ;  and  his  desire 
of  holiness,  to  have  Christ's  image  stamped  on  his  soul,  was  more  than  of 
eternal  happiness.  Natui'e  cannot  do  this.  It  is  a  work  above  the  flesh, 
for  that  wiU  not  hear  of  departing,  but  rather  bids  God  and  Christ  depart 
fr'om  it. 

2.  This  desire  came  from  a  taste  of  sweetness  in  communion  with  Christ; 
and  those  desires  that  most  ravish  the  soul  in  apprehension  of  heavenly 
things  are  ever  the  most  holy.  St  Paul  knew  what  a  sweet  communion 
Christ  was. 

8.  It  was  a  constant  desire.  He  doth  not  say  I  desire,  but  I  have  a  de- 
sire, I  carry  the  same  about  me,  and  that  carries  me  to  a  love  of  Christ  and 
his  members. 

4.  It  was  efficacious,  not  a  naked  veUeity,  not  a  wish  of  the  sluggard,  I 
would,  and  I  would,  but  a  strong  desire,  carrying  him  even  through  death 
itself  to  Christ.  Desires  thus  qualified  are  blessed  desires.  As  where  we 
see  vapours  arise,  there  are  springs  usually  below  them,  so  where  these  desires 
are,  there  is  always  a  spring  of  grace  in  that  soul.  Nothing  characteriseth 
a  Christian  so  much  as  holy  and  blessed  desires,  for  there  is  no  hypocrisy 
in  them. 

I  desire  to  depart.  There  must  be  a  parting  and  a  departing ;  there  must 
be  a  parting  in  this  world  with  aU  outward  excellencies,  from  the  sweet  en- 
jo3Tnent  of  the  creatures  ;  there  must  be  a  parting  between  soul  and  body, 
between  friend  and  friend,  and  whatever  is  near  and  dear  unto  us.  AU  shaU 
determine  in  death. 

And  there  must  be  a  departing  also.  Here  we  cannot  stay  long ;  away 
we  must ;  we  are  for  another  place.  Oh  that  we  could  make  use  of  these 
common  truths  !  How  far  are  we  from  making  a  right  use  of  the  mysteries 
of  salvation,  when  we  cannot  make  use  of  common  truths  which  we  have 
daily  experience  of !     Holy  Moses,  considering  the  suddenness  of  his  de- 


OHEIST  IS  BEST.  339 

parture  hence,  begged  of  God  to  teach  him  to  number  his  days,  that  he 
might  apply  his  heart  unto  wisdom,  Ps.  xc.  12. 

Death  is  but  a  departing  (a),  which  word  is  taken  from  loosing  from  the 
shore,  or  removing  of  a  ship  to  another  coast.  We  must  aU  be  unloosened 
from  our  houses  of  clay,  and  be  carried  to  another  place,  to  heaven.  Paul 
laboursto  sweeten  so  harsh  a  thing  as  death,  by  comfortable  expressions  of 
it.  It  IS  but  a  sleep,  a  going  home,  a  laying  aside  our  earthly  tabernacle, 
to  teach  us  this  pomt  of  heavenly  wisdom,  that  we  should  look  on  death  as 
it  is  now  m  the  gospel,  not  as  it  was  in  the  law  and  by  nature ;  for  so  it  is 
a  passage  to  hell,  and  lets  us  in  to  all  miseries  whatsoever. 

Some  things  are  desirable  for  themselves,  as  happiness  aiid  holiness  •  some 
things  are  desu-able  not  for  themselves,  but  as  they  make  way  to  better 
things,  bemg  sour,  and  bitter  to  nature  themselves;  as  physic  is  desired  not 
for  Itself,  but  for  health.  We  desire  health  for  itself,  and  physic  for  health, 
so  to  be  with  Christ  is  a  thing  desirable  of  itself;  but  because  we  cannot 
come  to  Christ  but  by  the  dark  passage  of  death,  saith  Paul,  /  desire  to  de- 
part, that  so  my  death  may  be  a  passage  to  Christ ;  so  that  death  was  the 
object  of  St  Paul's  desu-e  so  far  as  it  made  way  for  better  things. 
/  desire  to  depart,  and  to  be  with  Christ.  '^ 

To  be  with  Christ  that  came  from  heaven  to  be  here  on  earth  with  us,  and 
descended  that  we  should  ascend;  to  be  with  him,  that  hath  done  and  suf- 
fered so  much  for  us ;  to  be  with  Christ  that  delighted  to  be  with  us;  to  be 
with  Christ  that  emptied  himself,  and  became  of  no  reputation,  that  became 
poor  to  make  us  rich;  to  be  with  Christ  our  husband,  now  contracted  here, 
that  all  may  be  made  up  in  heaven,  this  was  the  thing  Paul  desfred. 

Quest.  Why  doth  he  not  say,  I  desii-e  to  be  in  heaven? 
^  A71S.  Because  heaven  is  not  heaven  without  Christ.  It  is  better  to  be 
m  any  place  with  Christ  than  to  be  in  heaven  itself  without  him.  All  deli- 
cacies without  Christ  are  but  as  a  fimeral  banquet.  Where  the  master  of  the 
feast  IS  away,  there  is  nothing  but  solemnness.  What  is  all  without  Christ  ? 
I  say  the  joys  of  heaven  are  not  the  joys  of  heaven  without  Christ ;  he  is 
the  very  heaven  of  heaven. 

True  love  is  carried  to  the  person.  It  is  adulterous  love,  to  love  the 
thing,  or  the  gift,  more  than  the  person.  St  Paul  loved  the  person  of  Christ, 
because  he  felt  sweet  experience  that  Christ  loved  him;  his  love  was  but  a 
reflection  of  Christ's  love  first.  He  loved  to  see  Christ,  to  embrace  him, 
and  enjoy  him  that  had  done  so  much  and  sufi"ered  so  much  for  his  soul, 
that  had  forgiven  him  so  many  sins,  &c. 

The  reason  is,  because  it  is  best  of  aU.  To  be  with  Christ  is  to  be  at 
the  sprmg-head  of  aU  happmess.  It  is  to  be  in  our  proper  element.  Every 
creature  thmks  itself  best  in  its  owb  element,  that  is  the  place  it  thrives 
m,  and  enjoys  its  happiness  in  ;  now  Christ  is  the  element  of  a  Christian. 
Agam,  it  IS  far  better,  because  to  be  with  Christ  is  to  have  the  marriage  consum- 
mate. Is  not  marriage  better  than  the  contract  ?  is  not  home  better  than 
absence  ?  To  be  with  Christ  is  to  be  at  home.  Is  not  triumph  better  than  to 
be  m  conflict  ?  but  to  be  with  Christ  is  to  triumph  over  aU  enemies,  to  be  out 
ot  Satan  s  reach.  Is  not  perfection  better  than  imperfection  ?  Here  aU  is  but 
imperfect,  in  heaven  there  is  perfection;  therefore  that  is  much  better 
than  any  good  below,  for  all  are  but  shadows  here,  there  is  reality.  What 
IS  riches  ?  what  are  the  worm-eaten  pleasures  of  the  worfd  ?  What  are  the 
honours  of  the  earth,  but  mere  shadows  of  good?  'At  the  right  hand  of 
Christ  are  pleasures  indeed,'  Ps.  xvi.  11,  honours  mdeed,  riches  indeed : 
there  is  reahty. 


340  CHRIST  IS  BEST. 

If  we  speak  of  grace,  and  good  things,  it  is  better  to  be  witb  Christ  than 
enjoy  the  graces  and  comforts  of  the  Holy  Ghost  here.  Why?  because 
•  they  are  all  stained  and  mixed.  Here  our  peace  is  interrupted  with  deser- 
tion and  trouble.  Here  the  joys  of  the  Holy  Ghost  are  mingled  with 
sorrow.  Here  the  grace  in  a  man  is  with  combat  of  flesh  and  spirit,  but  in 
heaven  there  is  pure  peace,  pure  joy,  pure  grace :  for  what  is  glory  but  the 
perfection  of  grace.  Grace  indeed  is  glory  here,  but  it  is  glory  with 
conflict.  The  Scripture  calls  gi-ace  glory  sometimes,  but  it  is  glory  with 
imperfection.  Beloved,  perfection  is  better  than  imperfection,  therefore  to 
be  with  Christ  is  far  better. 

And  is  it  much  '  far  better'  to  die,  that  we  may  be  with  Christ,  than  to 
live  here  a  conflicting  life  ?  Why  should  we  then  fear  death,  that  is  but  a 
passage  to  Christ  ?  It  is  but  a  grim  sergeant  that  lets  us  into  a  glorious 
palace,  that  strikes  off  our  bolts,  that  takes  off  our  rags,  that  we  may  be 
clothed  with  better  robes,  that  ends  all  our  misery,  and  is  the  beginning  of 
all  our  happiness.  Why  should  we  therefore  be  afraid  of  death  ?  it  is  but 
a  departure  to  a  better  condition  ?  It  is  but  as  Jordan  to  the  children  of 
Israel,  by  which  they  passed  to  Canaan.  It  is  but  as  the  Ked  Sea  by  which 
they  were  going  that  way.  Therefore  we  have  no  reason  to  fear  death. 
Of  itself  it  is  an  enemy  indeed,  but  now  it  is  harmless,  nay,  now  it  is  be- 
come a  friend,  amicable  to  us,  a  sweet  friend.  It  is  one  part  of  the  church's 
jointure,  death.  '  All  things  are  yours,'  saith  the  apostle,  Paul  and  Apollos, 
'  life  and  death,'  1  Cor.  iii.  22.  Death  is  ours  and  for  our  good.  It  doth  us 
more  good  than  all  the  friends  we  have  in  the  world.  It  determines  and 
ends  all  our  misery  and  sin ;  and  it  is  the  suburbs  of  heaven.  It  lets  us 
into  those  joys  above.  It  is  a  shame  for  Christians  therefore,  to  be  afraid 
of  that  that  Paul  here  makes  the  object  of  his  desire. 

But  may  not  a  good  Christian  fear  death  ? 

I  answer.  Not,  so  far  as  a  Christian  is  led  with  the  Spirit  of  God,  and  is 
truly  spiritual ;  for  the  Spirit  carries  us  upward.  But  as  far  as  we  are 
earthly  and  carnal,  and  biassed  downward  to  things  below,  we  are  loath  to 
depart  hence.  In  some  cases  God's  children  are  afraid  to  die,  because  their 
accounts  are  not  ready.  Though  they  love  Christ,  and  are  in  a  good  way, 
yet  notwithstanding,  because  they  have  not  prepared  themselves  by  care,  as 
a  woman  that  hath  her  husband  abroad  and  desires  his  coming,  but  all  is 
not  prepared  in  the  house,  therefore  she  desires  that  he  may  stay  awhile ;  so  the 
soul  that  is  not  exact,  that  is  not  in  that  frame  that  it  should  be  in,  saith, 
'  Oh  stay  a  while  that  I  may  recover  my  strength,  before  I  go  hence  and  be 
no  more  seen,'  Ps.  sxxix.  13  ;  but  as  far  as  we  are  guided  by  the  Spirit  of 
God  sanctifying  us,  and  are  in  such  a  condition  as  we  should  be  in,  so  far 
the  thoughts  of  death  ought  not  to  be  terrible  to  us ;  nor  indeed  are  they. 

Beloved,  there  is  none  but  a  Christian  that  can  desire  death ;  because  it  is 
the  end  of  all  comfort  here,  it  is  the  end  of  all  calhngs  and  employments, 
of  all  sweetness  whatsoever  in  this  world.  If  another  man  that  is  not  a 
Christian,  desire  heaven,  he  desires  it  not  as  heaven,  or  to  be  with  Christ 
as  Christ ;  he  desires  it  under  some  notion  suitable  to  his  corruption  ;  for 
our  desires  are  as  ourselves  are,  as  our  aims  are.  No  carnal  worldly  man, 
but  hath  carnal  worldly  aims.  A  worldly  man  cannot  go  beyond  the  world. 
It  is  his  sphere.  A  carnal  man  caimot  go  beyond  the  flesh.  Therefore  a 
carnal  man  cannot  desire  heaven.  A  man  that  is  under  the  power  of  any 
lust,  can  desire  nothing  but  the  satisfying  of  that  lust.  Heaven  is  no  place 
for  such.  None  but  a  child  of  God  can  desire  that ;  for  if  we  consider 
heaven,  and  to  he  with  Christ,  to  be  perfect  holiness,  can  he  desire  it  that 


CHRIST  IS  BEST.  341 

hates  holiness  here  ?  can  he  desire  the  image  of  God  upon  him  that  hates 
it  in  others  and  in  himself  too  ?  can  he  desire  the  communion  of  saints, 
that  of  all  societies  hates  it  the  most  ?  can  he  desire  to  be  free  from  sin, 
that  engulfs  himself  continually  in  sin  ?  He  cannot,  and  therefore  as  long  as 
he  is  under  the  thi-aldom  and  dominion  of  any  lust  he  may  desire  heaven 
indeed,  but  it  is  only  so  far  as  he  may  have  his  lusts  there,  his  pleasm-es, 
honours,  and  riches  there  too.  If  he  may  have  heaven  with  that,  he  is 
contented ;  but  alas !  brethren,  heaven  must  not  be  so  desired,  St  Paul 
did  otherwise  ;  he  desired  to  be  dissolved,  to  be  with  Christ.  He  desired  it 
as  the  perfection  of  the  image  of  God,  under  the  notion  of  holiness  and 
freedom  from  sin,  as  I  said  before. 

Which  is  far  better. 

Obs.  Again,  we  see  that  God  reserves  the  best  for  the  last  (b).  God's  last 
■works  are  his  best  works.  The  new  heaven  and  the  new  earth  are  the  best ; 
the  second  wine  that  Christ  created  himself  was  the  best ;  spiritual  things 
are  better  than  natural.     A  Christian's  last  is  his  best. 

God  will  have  it  so,  for  the  comfort  of  Christians,  that  every  day  they 
live,  they  may  think,  my  best  is  behind,  my  best  is  to  come,  that  every 
day  they  rise,  they  may  think,  I  am  nearer  heaven  one  day  than  I  was 
before,  I  am  nearer  death,  and  therefore  nearer  to  Christ.  What  a  solace 
is  this  to  a  gracious  heart !  A  Christian  is  a  happy  man  in  his  life,  but 
happier  in  his  death,  because  then  he  goes  to  Christ ;  but  happiest  of  all  in 
heaven,  for  then  he  is  ivith  Christ.  How  contrary  to  a  carnal  man,  that 
lives  according  to  the  sway  of  his  own  base  lusts  !  He  is  miserable  in  his 
life,  more  miserable  in  his  death,  but  most  miserable  of  all  after  death.  I 
beseech  you,  lay  this  to  heart.  Methinks,  consideriag  that  death  is  but  a 
way  for  us  to  be  with  Christ,  ivhich  is  far  better,  this  should  sweeten  the 
thinking  of  death  to  us,  and  we  should  comfort  ourselves  daily  that  we  are 
nearer  happiness. 

Quest.  But  how  shall  we  attain  this  sanctified  sweet  desire  that  Paul  had, 
to  die,  and  be  with  Christ  ? 

Ans.  1.  Let  its  carry  ourselves  as  Paid  did,  and  then  we  shall  have  the  same 
desires.  St  Paul,  before  death,  in  his  Hfetime, '  had  his  conversation  in  heaven, ' 
Phil.  iii.  1.  His  mind  was  there,  and  his  soul  followed  after.  There  is  no 
man's  soul  comes  into  heaven,  but  his  mind  is  there  first.  It  was  an  easy 
matter  for  him  to  desire  to  be  with  Christ,  having  his  conversation  in 
heaven  afready.  Paul  in  meditation  was,  where  he  was  not,  and  he  was  not 
where  he  was.     He  was  in  heaven  when  his  body  was  on  earth. 

2.  Again,  St  Paul  had  loosed  his  affections  from  all  earthly  things;  there- 
fore it  was  an  easy  matter  for  him  to  desire  to  be  with  Christ.  '  I  am 
crucified  to  the  world,  and  the  world  is  crucified  to  me,'  &c..  Gal.  vi.  14. 
If  once  a  Christian  comes  to  this  pass,  death  will  be  welcome  to  him. 
Those  whose  hearts  are  fastened  to  the  world,  cannot  easily  desire  Christ. 

3.  Again,  holy  St  Paul  laboured  to  keep  a  good  conscience  in  all  things. 
*  Herein  I  exercise  myself,  to  have  a  good  conscience  towards  God  and  men,' 
&c.,  Acts  xxiv.  16.  It  is  easy  for  him  to  desire  to  be  dissolved,  that  hath 
his  conscience  sprinkled  tvith  the  blood  of  Christ,  Heb.  x.  22,  free  from  a 
purpose  of  living  in  any  sin.  But  where  there  is  a  stained,  defiled,  pollu- 
ted conscience,  there  cannot  be  this  desire  ;  for  the  heart  of  man,  naturally, 
as  the  prophet  saith,  '  casts  up  mire  and  dirt,'  Isa.  Ivii.  20.  It  casts  up 
fears,  and  objections,  and  murmurings,  and  repinings.  Oh,  beloved,  we 
think  not  what  mischief  sin  will  do  us,  when  we  suffer  it  to  seize  upon  our 
consciences ;   when  it  is  once  written  there  ivith  the  claw  of  a  diamond, 


842  CHEIST  IS  BEST. 

and  with  a  pen  of  iron,  Jer.  xvii.  1,  who  shall  get  it  out?  Nothing  but 
great  repentance  and  faith,  applying  the  blood  of  Christ.  It  is  no  easy 
matter  to  get  it  off  there,  and  to  get  the  conscience  at  peace  again ;  and 
when  conscience  is  not  appeased,  there  will  be  aU  clamours  within.  It  will 
fear  to  appear  before  the  judgment-seat.  A  guilty  conscience  trembles  at 
the  mention  of  death.  Therefore  I  wonder  how  men  that  live  in  swearing, 
in  looseness,  in  filthiness,  in  deboisedness  *  of  life,  that  labour  to  satisfy 
their  lusts  and  corruptions,  I  wonder  how  they  can  think  of  death  without 
trembling,  considering  that  they  are  under  the  guilt  of  so  many  sins.  Oh, 
beloved,  the  exercising  of  the  heart  to  keep  a  clear  conscience,  can  only 
breed  this  desire  in  us  to  depart,  and  to  be  with  Christ.  You  have  a  com- 
pany of  wretched  persons,  proud  enough  in  their  own  conceits,  and  cen- 
sorious. Nothing  can  please  them,  whose  whole  life  is  acted  by  Satan  joining 
with  the  lusts  of  their  flesh,  and  they  do  nothing  but  put  stings  into  death 
every  day,  and  arm  death  against  themselves,  which  when  once  it  appears, 
their  conscience,  which  is  a  hell  within  them,  is  wakened,  and  where  are 
they  ?  They  can  stay  here  no  longer ;  they  must  appear  before  the  dread- 
ful Judge  ;  and  then  where  are  all  their  pleasures  and  contentments,  for 
which  they  neglected  heaven  and  happiness,  peace  of  conscience,  and  all  ? 
Oh,  therefore  let  us  walk  holily  with  our  God,  and  maintain  inward  peace 
all  we  can,  if  we  desire  to  depart  hence  with  comfort. 

4.  Again,  Paul  had  got  assurance  that  he  was  in  Christ,  by  his  union  with 
him.  '  I  live  not,'  saith  he,  '  but  Christ  lives  in  me,'  Gal.  ii.  19.  There- 
fore labour  for  assurance  of  salvation,  that  you  may  feel  the  Spirit  of  Christ 
in  you,  sanctifying  and  altering  your  carnal  dispositions  to  be  like  his,  'I 
know  whom  I  have  trusted,'  2  Tim.  i.  12,  saith  he.  He  was  as  sure  of  his 
salvation,  as  if  he  had  had  it  already.  How  few  live  as  if  they  intended 
any  such  matter  as  this,  assurance  of  salvation,  without  which  how  can  we 
ever  desire  to  be  dissolved,  and  to  be  with  Christ  ?  Will  a  man  leave  his 
house,  though  it  be  never  so  mean,  when  he  knows  not  whither  to  go  ?  Will 
a  man  leave  the  prison,  when  he  knows  he  shall  be  carried  to  execution  ? 
Oh,  no  ;  he  had  rather  be  in  the  dungeon  still.  So  when  there  is  guilt  on 
the  soul,  that  it  is  not  assured  of  salvation,  but  rather  hath  cause  to  fear 
the  contrary,  can  it  say,  '  I  desire  to  depart,  and  be  with  Christ,'  &c.  ?  No; 
they  had  rather  abide  in  the  flesh  still,  if  they  could,  for  ever,  for  all  eter- 
nity. Therefore,  if  we  would  come  to  Paul's  desire,  labour  to  come  to  the 
frame  of  the  holy  apostle's  spirit.  He  knew  whom  he  had  believed ;  he  was 
assured  that  nothing  could  separate  him  from  the  love  of  God,  neither  life, 
nor  death,  nor  anything  whatsoever  that  could  befall  him,  Rom.  viii.  38,  39. 

5.  Paul  had  an  art  of  sweetening  the  thoughts  of  death.  He  considered  it 
only  as  a  departure  from  earth  to  heaven.  When  death  was  presented 
unto  him  as  a  passage  to  Christ,  it  was  an  easy  matter  to  desire  the  same ; 
therefore  it  should  be  the  art  of  Christians  to  present  death  as  a  passage  to 
a  better  life,  to  labour  to  bring  our  souls  into  such  a  condition,  as  to  think 
death  not  to  be  a  death  to  us,  but  the  death  of  itself.  Death  dies  when  I  die, 
and  I  begin  to  live  when  I  die.  It  is  a  sweet  passage  to  life.  We  never 
live  till  we  die.  This  was  Paul's  art.  He  had  a  care  to  look  beyond 
death,  to  heaven ;  and  when  he  looked  upon  death,  he  looked  on  it  but  as 
a  passage  to  Christ :  so  let  it  be  our  art  and  skill.  Would  we  cherish  a 
desire  to  die,  let  us  look  on  death  as  a  passage  to  Christ,  and  look  beyond 
it  to  heaven.  All  of  us  must  go  through  this  dark  passage  to  Christ  (c), 
which  when  we  consider  as  Paul  did,  it  will  be  an  easy  matter  to  die. 

*  That  is,  'debauchery.' — G. 


OHKIST  IS  BEST.  343 

I  come  now  to  the  next  words — Nevertheless,  to  abide  in  the  flesh  is  more 
needful  for  you. 

This  is  the  other  desire  of  Paul,  that  brought  him  into  this  strait.  He 
was  troubled  whether  he  should  die,  which  was  far  better  for  himself,  or 
live,  which  was  more  needful  for  them ;  but  the  love  of  God's  people  did 
prevail  in  holy  St  Paul,  above  the  desire  of  heaven,  and  the  present  enjoy- 
ing his  own  happiness.  Oh,  the  power  of  grace  in  the  hearts  of  God's 
childi-en,  that  makes  them  content  to  be  without  the  joys  of  heaven  for  a 
time,  that  they  may  do  God's  service,  in  serving  his  chm-ch  here  upon 
earth. 

Obs.  1.  Observe  hence,  that  the  lives  of  worthy  men,  especially  magistrates 
and  ministers,  are  very  needful  for  the  church  of  God. 

The  reason  is,  because  God's  manner  of  dispensation  is,  to  convey  all 
good  to  men,  by  the  means  of  men  hke  ourselves  for  the  most  part ;  and 
this  he  doth  to  knit  us  into  a  holy  communion  one  with  another.  Therefore 
it  is  needful  that  holy  men  should  abide.  In  regard  of  the  church  of  God, 
their  hves  are  very  useful. 

_  If  we  consider  good,  the  great  benefit  that  comes  by  them,  we  shall  easily 
yield  to  this;  for  what  a  deal  of  sin  doth  a  good  magistrate  stop  and  hinder! 
When  there  were  good  judges  and  good  kings  in  Israel,  see  what  a  reforma- 
tion there  was.  Antichrist  could  not  come  in  when  the  Roman  empire 
flourished,  2  Thes.  ii.  7,  though  now  the  Roman  empire  hinder  the  fall  of 
antichrist,  because  antichrist  hath  given  her  the  cup  of  fornication,  and 
they  are  drunk  with  the  whore's  cup  ;  but  at  the  first  it  was  not  so.  Be- 
loved,^ whilst  good  magistrates  and  good  ministers  continue  in  a  place,  there 
IS  a  hmdrance  of  heresies  and  sin,  &c.  If  they  be  once  removed,  there  is 
a  floodgate  opened  for  all  manner  of  sin  and  corruption  to  break  in  at.  Yea, 
there  is  abundance  of  good  comes  in  by  gracious  persons. 

1.  By  their  coumel  and  direction:  '  The  lips  of  the  righteous  feed  many  ' 
Prov.  vii.  21.  t^  j, 

2.  By  their  refonnation  of  abuses,  by  planting  God's  ordinances  and  good 
orders,  whereby  God's  wrath  is  appeased.  They  stand  in  the  gap,  and 
stop  evil.  They  reform  it,  and  labour  to  establish  that  which  is  pleasing  to 
God. 

3.  Gracious  persons,  in  what  condition  soever  they  are,  carry  the  blessing 
of  God  uith  them.  Wheresoever  they  are,  God  and  his  blessing  goes  along 
with  them. 

4.  They  do  a  great  deal  of  good  by  their  pattern  and  example.  '  They 
are  the  hghts  of  the  world,'  Philip,  ii.  15,  that  give  aim  to  others  in  the 
darkness  of  this  life. 

6.  They  can  by  their  prayers  bind  God,  as  it  were,  that  he  shall  not 
inflict  his  judgments.  They  do  a  world  of  good  by  this  way.  A  praying 
force  and  army  is  as  good  as  a  fighting  army.  Moses  did  as  much  good 
by  prayer,  as  the  soldiers  in  the  valley  when  they  fought  with  Amalek. 
They  are  favourites  with  God  in  heaven,  therefore  St  Paul  saith,  It  is  need- 
fid  for  you.  that  I  abide  in  the  flesh.  Gracious  men  are  public  treasures, 
and  storehouses,  wherein  every  man  hath  a  share,  a  portion ;  they  are 
pubHc  springs  in  the  wilderness  of  this  world,  to  refresh  the  souls  of  people; 
they  are  trees  of  righteousness,  that  stretch  out  their  boughs  for  others  to 
shelter  under,  and  to  gather  fruit  fi-om.  You  have  an  excellent  picture  of 
this  in  Daniel,  in  the  dream  of  Nebuchadnezzar,  Dan.  iv.  21.  The  magis- 
trates there,  are  compared  to  a  great  tree,  wherein  the  birds  build  their 
nests,  and  the  beasts  shelter  themselves  ;  so  a  good  magistrate,  especially 


844  CHBIST  IS  BEST. 

if  he  be  in  great  place,  is  as  a  great  tree  for  comfort  and  shelter.  Oh, 
beloved,  the  lives  of  good  men  are  very  useful.  A  good  man,  saith  the 
philosopher,  is  a  common  good ;  because  as  soon  as  ever  a  man  becomes 
gracious,  he  hath  a  public  mind,  as  he  hath  a  public  place,  nay,  whether 
he  hath  a  public  place  or  no,  he  hath  a  public  mind.  It  is  needful,  there- 
fore, that  there  be  such  men  alive. 

If  this  be  so,  then  we  may  lament  the  death  of  worthy  men,  because  we 
lose  part  of  our  strength  in  the  loss  of  such,  God's  custom  being  to  convey 
much  good  by  them ;  and  when  there  is  scarcity  of  good  men,  we  should 
say  with  Micah,  Woe  is  me,  the  good  is  perished  from  the  earth,  Micah 
vii.  2.  They  keep  judgments  from  a  place,  and  derive  a  blessing  upon  it. 
Howsoever  the  world  judgeth  them,  and  accounts  them  not  worthy  to  live, 
yet  God  accounts  the  world  unworthy  of  them.  They  are  God's  jewels,  they 
are  his  treasure  and  his  portion,  therefore  we  ought  to  lament  their  death, 
and  to  desire  their  lives ;  and  we  ought  to  desire  our  own  lives,  as  long  as 
we  may  be  useful  to  the  church ;  and  be  content  to  want  heaven  for  a  time. 
Beloved,  it  is  not  for  the  good  of  God's  children  that  they  live  ;  as  soon  as 
ever  they  are  in  the  state  of  grace  they  have  a  title  to  heaven,  but  it  is  for 
others.  When  once  we  are  in  Christ,  we  live  for  others,  not  for  ourselves. 
That  a  father  is  kept  alive,  it  is  for  his  children's  sake  ;  that  good  magis- 
trates are  kept  alive,  it  is  for  their  subjects'  sake  ;  that  a  good  minister  is 
kept  alive,  out  of  the  present  enjoying  of  heaven,  it  is  for  the  people's  sake 
that  God  hath  committed  to  him  to  instruct ;  for,  as  Paul  saith  here,  in  re- 
gard of  my  own  particular,  it  is  better  for  me  to  he  toith  Christ. 

Use.  If  God  convey  so  much  good  by  worthy  men  to  us,  then  what 
wretches  are  they  that  malign  them,  persecute  them,  &c.,  speak  ill  of  those 
that  speak  to  God  for  them  ?  Doth  the  world  continue  for  a  company  of 
wretches,  a  company  of  profane,  blasphemous,  loose,  disorderly  livers  ? 
Oh  no;  for  if  God  had  not  a  church  in  the  world,  a  company  of  good  people, 
heaven  and  earth  would  fall  in  pieces.  There  would  be  an  end  pre- 
sently. It  is  for  good  people  only  that  the  world  continues.  They  are  the 
piUars  of  the  tottering  world,  they  are  the  stakes  in  the  fence,  they  are  the 
foundation  of  the  building,  and  if  they  were  once  taken  out,  all  would  come 
down  ;  there  would  be  a  confusion  of  all.  Therefore  those  that  oppose  and 
disquiet  gracious  and  good  men  are  enemies  to  their  own  good ;  they  cut 
the  bough  which  they  stand  on ;  they  labour  to  pull  down  the  house  that 
covers  themselves,  being  blinded  with' maUce  and  a  diabolical  spirit.  Take  heed 
of  such  a  disposition.  It  comes  near  to  the  sin  against  the  Holy  Ghost  to 
hate  any  man  for  goodness  ;  because,  perhaps,  his  good  Ufe  reproacheth  us. 
Such  a  one  would  hate  Christ  himself  if  he  were  here.  How  can  a  man 
desire  to  be  with  Christ  when  he  hates  his  image  in  another  ?  Therefore 
if  God  convey  so  much  good  by  other  men  that  are  good,  let  us  make  much 
of  them,  as  pubhc  persons,  as  instruments  of  our  good.  Take  away  malice, 
and  pride,  and  a  poisonful  spirit,  and  aU  their  good  is  ours.  What  hinders 
that  we  have  no  good  by  them  ?     Pride  and  an  envious  spirit,  &c. 

Obs.  A  second  thing  that  I  observe  hence  is  this,  holy  and  gracious  men,  that 
are  led  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  can  deny  themselves  and  their  own  best  good  for 
the  church's  benefit.  They  know  that  God  hath  appointed  them  as  instru- 
ments to  convey  good  to  others ;  and  knowing  this,  they  labour  to  come  to 
Paul's  spirit  here,  to  desire  to  hve,  to  have  Hfe  in  patience,  and  death  in 
desire  in  regard  of  themselves  ;  for  it  were  much  better  for  a  good  man  to 
be  in  heaven,  out  of  misery,  out  of  this  conflicting  condition  with  the  devil 
and  devilish-minded  men. 


CHKIST  IS  BEST.  345 

Reason  1.  The  reason  is,  because  a  good  man,  as  soon  as  he  is  a  good 
man,  hath  the  spirit  of  love  in  him,  and  '  love  seeketh  not  its  own,'  1  Cor. 
xiii.  5,  but  the  good  of  another ;  and  as  the  love  of  Christ  and  the  love 
of  God  possesseth  and  seizeth  upon  the  soul,  so  self-love  decays.  What  is 
gracious  love  but  a  decay  of  self-love  ?  The  more  self-love  decays,  the  more 
we  deny  ourselves. 

2.  Again,  God's  people  have  the  Spirit  of  Christ  in  them,  who  minded  not 
his  own  things,  1  Cor.  x.  24.  If  Christ  had  minded  his  own  things,  where 
had  our  salvation  been  ?  Christ  was  content  to  leave  heaven,  and  to  take 
our  nature  upon  him,  to  be  Emmanuel,  God  with  us,  that  we  might  be  with 
God  for  ever  in  heaven.  He  was  content,  not  only  to  leave  heaven,  but  to 
be  born  in  the  womb  of  a  virgin.  He  was  content  to  stoop  to  the  grave. 
He  stooped  as  low  as  heU  in  love  to  us.  Now,  where  Christ's  Spirit  is,  it 
wlU  bring  men  from  their  altitudes  and  excellencies,  and  make  them  to 
stoop  to  serve  the  church,  and  account  it  an  honour  to  be  an  instrument  to 
.do  good.  Christ  was  content  to  be  accounted,  not  only  a  servant  of  God, 
but  of  the  church.  '  My  righteous  servant,'  &c.,  Isa.  liii.  11.  Those  that  have 
the  Spirit  of  Christ  have  a  spirit  of  self-denial  of  their  own.  We  see  the 
blessed  angels  are  content  to  be  ministering  spirits  for  us,  and  it  is  thought 
to  be  the  sin  of  the  devil,  pride,  when  he  scorned  to  stoop  to  the  keeping 
of  man,  an  inferior  creature  to  himself.  The  blessed  angels  do  not  scorn 
to  attend  upon  a  poor  child,  *  little  ones.'  A  christian  is  a  consecrated 
person,  and  he  is  none  of  his  own.  He  is  a  sacrifice  as  soon  as  he  is  a 
Christian.  He  is  Christ's.  He  gives  himself  to  Christ ;  and  as  he  gives  him- 
self, so  he  gives  his  life  and  all  to  Christ,  as  Paul  saith  of  the  Corinthians, 
they  gave  themselves  and  their  goods  to  him,  2  Cor.  viii.  5.  When  a 
Christian  gives  himself  to  Christ,  he  gives  all  to  Christ ;  all  his  labour  and 
pains,  and  whatsoever  he  knows  that  Christ  can  serve  himself  of  him  for 
his  church's  good  and  his  glory.  He  knows  that  Christ  is  wiser  than  he  ; 
therefore  he  resigns  himself  to  his  disposal,  resolving,  if  he  live,  he  lives  to 
the  Lord ;  and  if  he  die,  he  dies  to  the  Lord,  Rom.  xiv.  8 ;  that  so,  whether 
he  live  or  die,  he  may  be  the  Lord's. 

Use  1.  Oh,  beloved,  that  we  had  the  spirit  of  St  Paul,  and  the  Spirit  of 
Christ,  to  set  us  a  work  to  do  good  while  we  are  here,  '  to  deny  ourselves,' 
Titus  ii.  12.  Oh,  it  would  be  meat  and  drink,  as  it  was  to  our  blessed 
Saviour  Christ,  to  do  good  all  kinds  of  ways.  Consider  all  the  capacities 
and  abilities  we  have  to  do  good,  this  way  and  that  way,  in  this  relation 
and  that  relation,  that  we  may  be  trees  of  righteousness,  that  the  more  we 
bear  the  more  we  may  bear.  God  will  mend  his  own  trees.  He  will  purge 
them  and  prune  them  to  '  bring  forth  more  fruit,'  John  xv.  2.  God  cherisheth 
fruitful  trees.  In  the  law  of  Moses,  when  they  besieged  any  place,  he  com- 
manded them  to  spare  fruitful  trees.  God  spares  a  fruitfiil  person  till  he 
have  done  his  work.  We  know  not  how  much  good  one  man  may  do, 
though  he  be  a  mean  person.  Sometimes  one  poor  wise  man  delivereth 
the  city,  Eccles.  ix.  15  ;  and  the  righteous  delivereth  the  land.  We  see 
for  one  servant,  Joseph,  Potiphar's  house  was  blessed.  Gen.  xxxix.  3. 
Naaman  had  a  poor  maidservant  that  was  the  occasion  of  his  conversion, 
2  Kings  V.  Grace  wiU  set  anybody  a-work.  It  puts  a  dexterity  into  any, 
though  never  so  mean.  They  carry  God's  blessing  wheresoever  they  go, 
and  they  bethink  themselves  when  they  are  in  any  condition  to  do  good,  as 
he  saith  in  Esther  iv.  14,  '  God  hath  called  me  to  this  place,  perhaps  for 
this  end.'  We  should  often  put  this  qucere  to  ourselves,  Why  hath  God 
called  me  to  this  place  ?  for  such  and  such  a  purpose  ? 


846  CHBIST  IS  BEST. 

Now,  that  we  may  be  fimitful  as  Paul  was,  let  us  labour  to  have  humble 
spirits.  God  delights  in  an  humble  spirit,  and  not  in  a  proud  spirit,  for 
.that  takes  all  the  glory  to  itself.  God  delights  to  use  humble  spirits,  that 
are  content  to  stoop  to  any  service  for  others,  that  think  no  office  too  mean. 

2.  Get  loving  hearts.  Love  is  full  of  invention,  how  shall  I  glorify  God  ? 
how  shall  I  do  good  to  others  ?  how  shall  I  bring  to  heaven  as  many  as  I 
can  ?    Love  is  a  sweet  and  boundless  affection,  full  of  holy  devices. 

3.  Labour  to  have  sufficiency  in  our  places,  that  you  may  have  ability  to 
do  good.  Oh,  when  these  meet  together,  ability  and  sufficiency ;  and  a 
willing,  a  large,  and  gracious  heart  and  a  fit  object  to  do  good  to,  what  a 
deal  of  good  is  done  then ! 

4.  And  when  we  find  opportunity  of  doing  any  good,  let  us  resolve  upon  it, 
resolve  to  honour  God,  and  serve  him  in  spite  of  flesh  and  blood ;  for  we 
must  get  every  good  work  that  we  do  out  of  the  fire,  as  it  were ;  we  must 
get  it  out  with  travail,  and  pains.  We  carry  that  about  us  that  will  hinder 
us.  Let  us  therefore  labour  to  have  sincere  aims  in  that  we  do  to  please  God, 
and  then  resolve  to  do  aU  the  good  we  can. 

To  stir  us  up  to  be  more  and  niore  fruitful  in  our  places,  let  us  consider  we 
live  for  others,  and  not  for  ourselves,  when  we  are  good  Christians  once.  It 
was  a  good  speech  of  that  godly  Palsgrave,  great  grandfather  to  bim  that  is 
(Frederick  the  godly  they  called  him),  when  he  was  to  die,  Satis  vobis,  saith 
he,  /  have  lived  hitherto  for  you,  now  let  me  live  for  myself.  We  live 
here  all  our  life  for  others,  therefore  let  us  think  while  we  hve,  how  we  may 
do  most  good  in  the  church  of  God. 

For  encouragement  hereunto  consider,  God  will  undertake  to  recompense 
all  the  good  we  do,  to  a  '  cup  of  cold  water,'  Mark  ix.  41.  We  shall  not 
lose  a  sigh,  a  groan,  for  the  church.  God  would  account  himself  dis- 
honoured if  it  should  not  be  rewarded.  He  hath  pawned  his  faithfulness 
upon  it ;  *  he  is  not  unfaithful  to  be  unmindful  of  your  good  works,' 
Heb.  vi.  10. 

Nay,  we  have  a  present  reward  and  contentment  of  conscience :  as  light 
accompanies  fire,  so  peace  and  joy  accompany  every  good  action.  All  is 
not  reserved  for  heaven.  A  Christian  hath  some  beginnings  of  happiness 
here.  When  he  doth  that  that  is  contrary  to  flesh  and  blood,  how  full  of 
sweet  joy  is  a  fruitful  soul !  Those  that  are  fruitful  in  their  places  never 
want  arguments  of  good  assurance  of  salvation.  It  is  your  lazy,  lukewarm 
Christian  that  wants  assurance.  Therefore  I  beseech  you  be  stirred  up,  to 
live  desired  in  the  world,  and  die  lamented ;  labour  to  be  useful  in  your 
places  all  you  can ;  to  be  as  the  olive  and  fig-tree,  delighting  God  and  man, 
and  not  to  cumber  the  ground  of  the  chui'ch  with  barrenness.  Sins  of 
omission, — because  men  were  not  fruitful  in  their  places, — was  a  ground  of 
damnation ;  '  cast  the  unprofitable  servant  into  outer  darkness,'  Mat.  xxv.  30 ; 
put  case  he  did  no  harm  ;  aye,  but  he  was  unprofitable.  Such  was  the 
cursed  disposition  of  Ephraim  ;  he  brought  forth  fruit  to  himself.  Oh  this 
looking  to  ourselves.  When  we  make  ourselves  the  beginning  and  the  end 
of  all  the  good  we  do,  it  is  an  argument  of  a  barren  person.  None  ever  came 
to  heaven  but  those  that  denied  themselves. 

I  see  I  cannot  proceed  in  this  point.  You  may  by  the  Spirit  of  God 
enlarge  it  in  your  thoughts  and  bring  home  what  hath  been  said,  to  your 
own  souls.  Labour  that  you  may  be  such  as  others  may  make  use  of  you, 
and  not  be  the  burdens  and  calamities  of  the  time,  as  many  are,  that  live  for 
nothing  but  to  do  good  men  good  by  vexing  of  them.  That  is  all  the  good 
they  do ;  by  vexing  their  patience  they  exercise  their  grace  a  contrary  way. 


CHRIST  IS  BEST.  347 

Let  us  not  be  briars  and  unfruitful  plants,  labouring  to  be  great  by  tbe 
public  miseries.  As  they  say,  great  fishes  grow  big  by  devouring  many 
Httle  ones  ;  as  a  dragon  comes  to  be  great  by  devouring  many  little  serpents, 
so  many  grow  great  by  the  ruin  of  others.  Oh  beloved,  it  had  been  better  for 
such  that  they  had  never  been  born.  Therefore  as  we  desire  to  have 
comfort  when  we  die,  let  us  labour  to  be  fruitful  while  we  live.  St  Paul, 
when  the  time  came  that  he  should  die,  when  he  had  done  his  work, 
you  see  he  that  was  thus  full  of  self-denial,  how  gloriously  he  ended  his  days. 
The  second  Epistle  to  Timothy  was  the  last  epistle  that  ever  he  wrote, 
and  when  he  had  done  his  work,  saith  he,  '  I  have  fought  a  good  fight, 
I  have  kept  the  faith,  I  have  finished  my  course :  from  henceforth  there  is  a 
crown  of  righteousness  reserved  for  me,'  2  Tim.  iv.  7.  What  a  glorious 
end  is  here !  and  indeed  those  that  are  thus  careful,  and  fruitful  in  their 
lives  and  conversations,  end  their  days  faU  of  comfort,  and  resign  their 
souls  to  God  with  full  assurance  of  a  blessed  change,  and  only  those. 
For  you  have  many,  when  they  come  to  die,  what  hinders  them  ?  Oh  I 
have  been  unfruitful,  I  have  not  done  that  good  that  I  might,  I  have  not 
'  wrought  out  my  salvation  with  fear  and  trembling,'  Phihp.  ii.  12.  In  such  a 
thing  I  have  done  iU,  such  a  thing  I  have  omitted.  So  they  are  enemies  to 
their  own  comfort.  Enlarge  this  in  your  own  meditations,  and  consider 
what  will  comfort  you  hereafter,  when  you  shall  need  most  comfort.  So  I 
leave  the  text,  and  come  to  the  occasion. 

This  holy  and  blessed  man  whose  funeral  now  we  solemnize,  was  of  St 
Paul's  spfrit.  He  did  desire  to  die,  and  be  with  Christ;  he  had  a  desire  while 
he  lived  to  take  aU  opportunities  to  do  good.  I  speak  of  that  time  when 
he  lived,  that  is,  when  he  was  good,  for  we  live  no  longer  than  we  are  good. 
Let  us  not  reckon  that  Ufe,  wherein  we  do  no  good.  After  God  had  wrought 
upon  his  heart,  he  had  a  pubhc  heart  to  do  good.  If  I  wanted  matter  to 
speak  of,  I  could  teU  you  of  his  alliance  and  birth,  having  two  worthy 
judges  of  reverend  esteem,  the  one  his  grandfather,  the  other  his  uncle. 
The  one  bred  him,  the  other  cherished  and  promoted  his  study  and  en- 
deavours ;  but  what  should  I  speak  of  these  things  when  he  hath  personal 
worth  enough  ?  I  need  not  go  abroad  to  commend  this  man,  for  there 
were  those  gi'aces  and  gifts  in  him  that  made  him  so  esteemed,  that 
verily,  I  think,  no  man  of  his  place  and  years  Uved  more  desired,  and  died 
more  lamented. 

1.  For  his  parts  of  nature,  they  were  pregnant  and  solid;  but  as  one 
said  to  Melancthon,  his  disposition  and  loving  mind  did  gain  as  much  love 
from  men  as  his  parts,  though  they  were  great. 

2.  His  leamrug  was  good;  for  beside  his  own  profession,  he  was  a  general 
scholar,  and  had  good  skiU  in  that  we  call  elegant  learning,  and  contro- 
verted points  of  divinity.  He  was  a  good  divine.  Indeed,  in  the  turning  of 
his  life,  when  he  should  have  adventured  upon  a  profession,  he  had  some 
thoughts  of  being  a  divine,  had  not  his  friends,  especially  his  uncle,  Judge 
Yelverton,  (d)  disposed  him  otherwise,  by  promoting  his  study  in  the  law ; 
and  when  he  took  upon  him  that  profession,  he  grew  so  in  it,  that  he  was  a 
credit  to  the  profession  for  integrity,  sincerity,  and  abihty. 

3.  For  his  disposition  he  was  every  way  a  man  of  an  excellent  sweet 
temper ;  mild,  and  yet  resolute  ;  meek,  and  yet  bold  where  cause  was ; 
discreet,  yet  not  over- discreet,  so  as  not  to  stand  out  in  a  good  cause  in  the 
defence  of  it;  he  was  humble,  yet  thought  himself  too  good  to  be  instru- 
mental to  any  services  other  than  stood  with  the  peace  of  his  conscience ; 
he  was  tractable  and  gentle,  yet  immovably  fixed  to  his  principles  of  piety 


848  CHRIST  IS  BEST. 

and  honesty  ;  lie  was  e^act  in  his  life,  yet  not  censorious  ;  very  conscion- 
able  and  religious,  but  without  any  vain  curiosity ;  indeed,  he  was  every- 
.way  of  a  sweet  temper.  If  he  stood  out  in  dislike  of  any,  in  any  matter,  he 
carried  it  usually  with  evidence  of  such  sincerity,  and  denial  of  self-seeking, 
that  he  usually  prevailed  where  he  put  in. 

4.  To  come  to  his  private  personal  carriage,  it  was  very  pious.  He  was 
v>ont  to  sequester  himself  from  his  employment  and  labour,  to  bring  his 
heart  under  to  God,  to  the  guidance  of  God's  Spirit :  his  study  was  to  study 
to  die ;  for  he  gathered  choice  things  out  of  the  sermons  he  heard  about 
death,  many  years  before  he  died,  to  lay  up  store  of  provision  against  that 
time ;  and  two  or  three  terms  before  he  died  he  had  a  special  care  to 
inquire  of  nearer  communion  with  God.  He  inquired  of  those  he  con- 
\ersed  with  of  the  way  to  attain  the  same,  and  was  willing  to  hear  any  dis- 
courses that  tended  that  way. 

5.  For  his  care  of  the  Sabbath,  it  was  his  delight.  His  custom  was,  after 
sermon,  to  retire  and  ruminate  upon  what  he  had  heard,  to  turn  it  into  his 
spirit.  Alas,  for  want  of  this,  how  many  sermons  are  lost  in  this  great 
city !  how  much  seed  is  spilt  in  vain !  What  nourishment  can  there  be 
without  digestion  ?  it  is  the  second  digestion  that  breeds  nourishment ; 
when  we  chew  things,  and  call  them  to  mind  again,  and  make  them  our 
own.     This  was  his  custom  every  Sabbath. 

6.  For  his  carriage  to  others,  he  was  a  constant  friend,  and  his  study 
was,  to  labour  to  make  those  good  he  conversed  withal.  He  conversed 
with  few,  but  they  were  the  better  for  him,  he  was  so  fruitful ;  and  he  would 
have  intimate  society  with  none,  but  he  would  do  good  or  take  good  from 
them.  You  have  many  in  the  society  where  he  lived,  that  may  bless  God 
all  the  days  of  their  life  that  ever  they  knew  him. 

7.  For  his  carriage  in  his  government  of  the  place  where  he  lived,  I 
think  there  are  none  that  are  able  to  judge,  but  wUl  give  him  the  testimony 
of  a  faithful,  prudent  governor.  He  was  so  careful  of  the  town  where  he 
was  recorder,  that  he  provided  for  them  after  his  death,  and  gave  them  a 
large  legacy,  two  hundred  merks,  to  set  the  poor  on  work. 

8.  For  the  honoui'able  society  wherein  he  was  a  governor,  he  carried 
himself  with  that  resolution,  for  good  order  and  good  exercises,  and  was 
such  a  strict  opposer  of  any  abuse,  which  he  judged  to  be  so,  that  the  house 
will  have  a  special  want  of  him.*  I  fear,  rather,  I  desire  from  my  soul,  that 
that  honourable  society  may  so  flourish  as  they  may  have  no  want  of  good 
Master  Sherland. 

9.  For  his  more  public  carriage,  by  virtue  of  his  place  at  Northampton, 
where  he  was  recorder,  he  was  called  to  be  a  member  of  the  body-re- 
presentative in  Parliament,  wherein  both  his  ability  and  spirit  appeared 
to  all  that  knew  him.  You  may  see  by  this  what  manner  of  man  we  have 
lost. 

He  died  before  he  was  come  to  the  middle  of  his  years,  a  young  man  to 
speak  of;  and  he  did  a  great  deal  of  work  in  a  little  time.  God  had  ripened 
him  for  his  business  extraordinarily,  and  gave  him  a  spirit  to  bestir  himself 
to  do  all  the  good  he  could.  These  be  wondrous  ill  times,  beloved,  to  lose 
such  men  as  he  was  ;  therefore  we  have  cause  to  lay  it  to  heart  the  more. 
The  commonwealth  wants  him,  the  town  and  country  where  he  lived  will 
want  him,  the  society  where  he  was  a  governor  will  want  him,  the  family 
where  he  was  a  governor  will  find  a  miss  in  him.  He  went  wisely  in  and 
out ;  he  was  able  for  family  duties  ;  he  had  more  than  ordinary  sufficiency ; 
*  Qu.  '  want  of  Mm,  I  fear  :  rather,  I  desire  ?  '  &c. — Ed. 


OHEIST  IS  BEST.  849 

he  was  of  Joshua's  mind,  '  Choose  who  you  will  serve,  but  I  and  my  house 
will  serve  the  Lord,'  Josh.  xxiv.  15  ;  and  to  help  him  the  more,  he  had  the 
happiness  to  marry  into  a  religious  family ;  he  had  a  good  helper. 

Now  for  the  church.  Though  his  profession  was  the  law,  yet  that  will 
have  a  great  want  of  him.  He  was  a  hearty  and  true  promoter  of  the  cause 
of  religion,  and  shewed  his  love  to  the  church,  by  his  care  of  it  now  he  is 
departed.  He  gave  four  hundred  pounds  to  buy  in  impropriations ;  he  gave 
an  hundred  pounds  for  the  breeding  up  of  poor  scholars,  and  there  is  never 
a  good  minister  round  about  where  he  hved,  but  had  encouragement  from 
him.  Indeed,  he  was  a  man  of  special  use  and  service ;  and  as  he  honoured 
God  in  his  life,  so  God  hath  honoured  him  in  his  death,  as  you  may  see  by 
this  honourable  assembly  of  worthy  people,  met  in  love  to  him. 

His  death  was,  as  the  death  of  strong  men  useth  to  be,  with  conflicts 
between  nature  and  his  disease,  but  with  a  great  deal  of  patience ;  and  in 
his  sickness  time  he  would  utter  Paul's  disposition,  Oh,  saith  he,  you  keep 
me  from  heaven,  you  keep  me  from  glory,  being  displeased  with  those  that 
kept  him  aUve,  with  conference  out  of  love. 

He  had  a  large  heart  to  do  good,  for  though  he  were  fruitful,  and  studied 
to  be  fruitful,  yet  oft  in  his  sickness  in  a  complaining  manner  he  would  say, 
Oh,  I  have  not  been  so  wise  for  my  own  soul  as  I  ought  to  be ;  I  have  not 
been  provident  enough  in  taking  opportunities  of  doing  and  receiving  good. 

Beloved,  shall  such  a  man  as  he  was,  so  careful,  so  fniitfal,  so  good, 
shall  he  complain  thus  ?  what  shall  a  company  of  us  do  ?  Beloved,  those 
that  have  warmed  their  hearts  at  the  fire  of  God's  love,  they  think  zeal 
itself  to  be  coldness,  and  fruitfulness  to  be  barrenness.  Love  is  a  boundless 
afiection.  He  spake  not  this  from  want  of  care ;  but  love  knows  no  bounds. 
Therefore  he  took  the  more  opportunities  of  doing  good. 

Well,  I  beseech  you,  beloved,  let  not  this  example  pass  without  making 
good  use  of  it.  God  wiU  call  us  to  a  reckoning,  not  only  for  what  we  hear, 
but  for  what  we  see  :  he  wiU  caU  us  to  a  reckoning  for  the  examples  of  his 
people.  Therefore,  as  we  see  here  what  a  holy  disposition  was  in  St  Paul, 
and  in  this  blessed  man  now  with  God,  so  let  us  labour  to  find  the  same 
disposition  in  ourselves.  Paul  hath  now  his  desire ;  he  is  dissolved,  and 
he  is  with  Christ,  that  is  best  of  all.  This  holy  man  hath  his  desire ;  he 
desired  not  to  be  kept  from  his  glory  and  happiness,  on  which  his  mind 
was  set  before.  Let  us  therefore  labour  with  God  in  the  use  of  good  means, 
to  have  the  same  disposition ;  and  in  this  moment  let  us  provide  for  eter- 
nity ;  out  of  eternity  before,  and  eternity  after,  issueth  this  httle  spot  of 
time  to  do  good  in.  Let  us  sow  to  the  Spirit,  account  all  time  lost  that 
either  we  do  not  or  take  not,  good  in.  Opportunity  is  God's  angel.  Time 
is  short,  but  opportunity  is  shorter.  Let  us  catch  at  all  opportunities. 
This  is  the  time  of  worship.  Oh,  let  us  sow  now.  Shall  we  go  to  sowing 
then,  when  the  time  comes  that  we  should  reap  ?  Some  begin  to  sow 
when  they  die,  that  is  the  reaping  time.  While  we  have  time  let  us  do  all 
good,  especially  where  God  loves  most,  to  those  that  are  good. 

Consider  the  standings  and  places  that  God  hath  set  us  in ;  consider  the 
advantages  in  our  hands,  the  price  that  we  have ;  consider  that  opportunity 
will  not  stay  long.  Let  us  therefore  do  all  the  good  we  can,  and  so  if  we 
do,  beloved,  we  shall  come  at  length  to  reap  that,  that  this  blessed  saint  of 
God,  St  Paul  here  in  the  text,  and  this  blessed  man,  for  whose  cause  we  are 
now  met,  do  enjoy.  Therefore,  if  we  desire  to  end  our  days  in  joy  and 
comfort,  let  us  lay  the  foundation  of  a  comfortable  death  now  betimes.  To 
die  well  is  not  a  thing  of  that  hght  moment  as  some  imagine :  it  is  no  easy 


850  CHEIST  IS  BEST. 

matter.  But  to  die  well  is  a  matter  of  every  day.  Let  us  daily  do  some 
good  that  may  help  us  at  the  time  of  our  death.  Every  day  by  repentance 
pull  out  the  sting  of  some  sin,  that  so  when  death  comes,  we  may  have 
nothing  to  do  but  to  die.  To  die  well  is  the  action  of  the  whole  life.  He 
never  dies  well  for  the  most  part  that  dies  not  daily,  as  Paul  saith  of  him- 
self, '  I  die  daily,'  1  Cor.  xv.  31 ;  he  laboured  to  loose  his  heart  from  the 
world,  and  worldly  things.  If  we  loose  our  hearts  from  the  world  and 
die  daily,  how  easy  will  it  be  to  die  at  last !  He  that  thinks  of  the 
vanity  of  the  world,  and  of  death,  and  of  being  with  Christ  for  ever,  and 
is  dying  daily,  it  will  be  easy  for  him  to  end  his  days  with  comfort. 
But  the  time  being  past,  I  will  here  make  an  end.  Let  us  desire  God  to 
make  that  which  hath  been  spoken  eflfectual,  both  concerning  Paul,  and 
likewise  concerning  this  blessed  man,  for  whose  cause  we  are  met  together.* 

*  Shetland.  In  addition  to  the  splendid  eulogy  of  Sibbes,  it  may  be  noted  here, 
that  Sherland  was  one  of  the  lay  '  feofees '  to  buy  in  hvings.  (Fuller's  Church 
History,  ed.  Brewer,  vi.  67 ;  and  see  Prynne's  Canterburie's  Doom,  p.  385.)  He 
impeached  Buckingham.     (Heylin's  Laud,  p.  143.) — G. 


NOTES. 


(a)  P.  339. — '  Death  is  but  a  departing  .  .  .  which  word  is  taken  from  loosing 
from  the  shore,  or  removing  of  a  ship  to  another  coast.'  See  Luke  viii.  38,  and 
2  Tim.  iv.  6,  and  Phil.  1.  28  (all  in  the  Greek). 

(b)  P.  341. — '  God  reserves  the  best  for  the  last.'  This  more  than  once  repeated 
saying  of  Sibbes,  probably  suggested  to  Thomas  Brooks  the  titles  of  two  of  his 
minor  writings,  (a)  '  A  String  of  Pearls ;  or  the  Best  Things  Reserved  till  Last,* 
(1657) ;  (b)'A  BeUever's  Last  Day  is  his  Best  Day,'  (1651). 

(c)  P.  342. — '  AU  of  us  must  go  through  this  dark  passage  to  Christ.'  Sir  William 
Davenant  has  finely  used  this  saying — 

'  0  harmless  Death  !  whom  still  the  valiant  brave, 

The  wise  expect,  the  sorrowful  invite, 
And  all  the  good  embrace,  who  know  the  grave 
A  short  dark  passage  to  eternal  light.' 
Longfellow  has  the  same  thought : 

'  The  grave  is  but  a  cover'd  bridge,  leading  from  light 
To  hght,  through  a  brief  darkness.' 

(d)  P.  347.— •  Judge  Telverton.'    Consult  Foss's  '  Judges  of  England.' 

a 


CHRIST'S  SUFFERINGS  FOR  MAN'S  SIN. 


CHEIST'S  SUFFEEINGS  FOR  MAN'S  SIN. 

NOTK. 

'  Christ's  SuflFerings '  follows  '  Christ  is  Best,'  and  closes  the  '  first  part '  of  the 
volume.     It  was  reprinted  in  the  '  Saint's  Cordial's  '  (2d  edition,  1637  ;  3d  edition,  ' 
1668),  forming  No.  7.    The  separate  title-page  is  subjoined.* — G. 


*  Title-page — 


CHRISTS 

Sufferings, 

FOR 

Mans  Sinne. 

Iiaid  open  in  a  Passion  Ser- 
mon at  Mercers  Chappell  Lon- 
don, vpon  Good  Friday. 

By  R.  SiBBS,  D.D. 

IsAY.  53.  5. 
He  was  ■wounded  for  our  transgressions,  and 
bruised  for  our  iniquities;   the  chastise- 
ment of  our  peace  was  upon  him,  and  with 
his  stripes  are  wee  healed. 

London, 
Printed  by  M.  F.  for  R.  Dawlman,  at  the 
Brazen  Serpent  in  Pauls  Church- 
yard.   1634. 


CHRIST'S  SUFFERINGS  FOR  MAN'S  SIN. 


About  the  ninth  hour  Jems  cried  with  a  hud  voice,  Eli,  Eli,  lama  sahach- 
thani  ?  that  is  to  say,  My  God,  my  God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  ? — 
Mat.  XXVn.  46. 

The  dying  speeches  of  men  of  worth,  are  most  remarkable.  At  that  time 
they  stir  up  all  their  spirits  and  abilities  which  remain,  that  they  may 
speak  with  greatest  advantage  to  the  hearts  of  others,  and  leave  the  deeper 
impression  behind  them. 

These  be  some  of  the  last  words  of  our  blessed  Saviour's,  uttered  from  t3ie 
greatest  affection,  with  the  greatest  faith,  and  to  the  greatest  purpose,  that 
ever  any  words  were  spoken,  and  therefore  deserve  your  best  attention. 

In  this  portion  of  Scripture  you  have  Christ's  compellation.  My  God; 
and  his  complaint,  Why  hast  thou  forsaken  me?  1.  A  compellation  with  an 
ingemination  or  reduplication  of  the  words,  My  God,  my  God,  to  shew  the 
strength  of  his  affection  and  desire  of  help  at  this  time. 

2.  A  complaint  by  way  of  expostulation.  Why  hast  thou  forsaken  me?  I 
wiU  draw  aU  that  I  have  to  say  into  these  four  propositions : 

1.  That  Christ  was  forsaken. 

2.  That  he  was  very  sensible  of  it,  even  unto  complaint.  Why  hast  thou 
forsaken  me? 

3.  His  disposition  and  carriage  in  this  extremity.  His  faith  failed  not;  My 
God,  my  God.    His  present  grief  tied  him  the  closer  and  faster  to  his  God. 

4.  Neither  was  it  only  faith,  but  a  faith,  flaming  in  prayer,  whereby  he 
expressed  that  God  was  his  God.  He  not  only  prayed  but  cried  to  him, 
'  My  God,  my  God,'  &c.     This  is  the  sum  of  what  I  intend. 

1.  Christ  being  in  extremity  was  forsaken. 

2.  Being  forsaken,  he  was  very  sensible  of  it;  and  from  sensibleness  com- 
plains, pouring  out  his  soul  into  the  bosom  of  his  Father. 

3.  And  not  only  complains,  but  believes  certainly  that  his  Father  will  help 
him. 

4.  And  to  strengthen  his  faith  the  more,  he  puts  it  forth  in  prayer.  The 
fire  of  faith  in  his  heart  kindled  into  a  flame  of  prayer  (and  that  not  in  an 
ordinaiy  manner,  but  in  strong  supplications),  he  cried  out,  '  My  God,  my 
God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  ? '     To  come  to  the  particulars. 

Obs.  1.  Christ  was  forsaken. 

VOL.  I.  Z  n  -- 


854  ohbist's  suffekings  foe  man's  sin.  ' 

I  will  briefly  touch  upon  some  circumstances,  and  then  faU  upon  the 
point  itself,  as, 

1.  The  time  wherein  he  was  forsaken — a  time  of  darkness  (the  sixth  hour), 
in  which  there  was  a  darkness  over  the  whole  earth,  and  in  the  land  of 
Judea  especially.  Neither  had  he  darkness  without  only,  but  within  hke- 
wise.  His  soul  was  troubled  from  a  sense  of  his  Father's  displeasure,  Mat. 
XKYi.  38.  Two  eclipses  seized  upon  him  together, — the  one  of  the  glorious 
light  of  the  sun,  the  other  of  the  light  of  his  Father's  countenance.  He 
must  needs  be  in  a  disconsolate  estate,  and  doubly  miserable,  that  is  en- 
compassed with  such  darkness.  Whatsoever  was  done  to  Christ  our 
surety,  shall  be  done  to  all  that  are  out  of  him.  Blackness  of  darkness  is 
reserved  for  them.  As  Christ  wanted  the  comfort  of  Hght  from  heaven, 
so  those  that  are  out  of  Christ  shall  have  no  comfort  from  any  creature  at 
the  last :  the  sun  shall  not  shine  upon  them,  the  earth  shall  not  bear  them, 
they  shall  not  have  a  drop  of  water  to  cool  their  tongues.  They  were  for- 
merly rebels  against  God,  and  now  every  creature  is  ready  to  serve  the 
Lord  against  them.  When  the  king  is  displeased  with  a  man,  which  of  his 
servants  dare  to  countenance  him  ? 

This  darkness  being  in  Judea,  did  likewise  portend  the  miserable  condi- 
tion of  the  Jews  here,  and  that  eternal  darkness  in  the  world  to  come, 
which  should  be  their  portion  if  they  repented  not. 

2.  Another  circumstance  may  be  this,  God  teas  a  great  while  ere  he  re- 
moved his  heavy  displeasure  from  Christ,  He  was  three  hours  in  torment; 
and  though  God  delayed  him  long,  yet  he  said  nothing  till  now  by  way  of 
complaint.  We  should  beware  of  darkness  of  spirit  in  trouble.  God  may 
delay  help  to  his  dearest  children,  as  here  he  did  to  his  only  Son,  to  per- 
fect the  work  of  sanctification  in  them.  Therefore,  submit  to  his  will,  rest 
contented  with  whatever  he  sends,  look  to  thy  Head  and  Saviour,  &c.  But 
of  this  more  anon. 

3.  His  great  est  grief  and  conflicts  were  towards  his  latter  end,  towards  the 
shutting  up  and  close  of  his  life.  Though  a  little  after  he  saith,  •  All  is 
finished,'  yet  now  he  cries  out,  '  My  God,  my  God,  why  hast  thou  for- 
saken me  ? '  Afflictions  are  sharpest  toward  our  ends.  I  speak  this  for 
prevention  of  discomfort  in  those  that  find  extremities  upon  them.  When 
miseries  are  extreme,  help  is  nearest.  They  will  either  mend  or  end  then. 
The  darkness  is  thickest  a  little  before  the  morning  appears ;  and  Satan 
raged  most  a  little  before  his  casting  down. 

As  also  to  prevent  security  from  seizing  upon  people.  Take  heed  of  de- 
ferring repentance  till  thy  last  hours ;  there  may  be  a  confluence  of  many 
extremities  then  upon  thee,  pains  of  body,  terrors  of  conscience,  Satan's 
temptations,  God's  wrath,  &c.  When  all  these  meet  together,  and  the  poor 
soul,  in  its  best  strength,  finds  enough  to  do  to  conflict  with  any  one  of 
them,  what  an  unhappy  condition  will  that  be  I  Oh,  put  not  ofi"  your  re- 
pentance to  this  time.  But  I  pass  these  circumstances,  and  come  to  the 
point  of  forsaking  itself. 

In  the  unfolding  whereof  I  will  shew, 

1.  In  what  sense  Christ  was  forsaken. 

2.  In  what  parts  he  was  forsaken. 

3.  Upon  what  ground.     And, 

4.  To  what  end  all  this  forsaking  of  Christ  was. 

For  the  first,  forsaking  is  nothing  else  but  when  God  leaves  the  creature 
to  itself,  either  in  regard  of  comfort  or  of  grace  and  assistance.  I  will  shew 
you  how  Christ  was  left  of  his  Father,  and  how  he  was  not  left. 


Christ's  sufferings  for  man's  sin.  355 

(1.)  How  Christ  was  not  forsaken.  He  was  not  forsaken  in  regard  of  God's 
hve,  for  *  My  Father  loveth  me,'  saith  he,  John  iii.  35,  '  because  I  give  my 
life  for  my  sheep,'  John  x.  11.  God  never  loved  Christ  more  than  now, 
because  he  was  never  more  obedient  than  at  this  present. 

(2.)  Nor  in  regard  of  union,  for  there  was  no  separation  of  his  divine 
nature  from  the  human.  There  was  a  suspension  of  vision,  indeed  ;  he  saw 
no  comfort  for  the  present  from  God,  but  there  was  no  dissolution  of  union; 
for  the  divine  nature  did  many  things  in  this  seeming  forsaking.  That  was 
it  which  supported  his  human  nature  to  sustaiu  the  burden  of  our  sin  and 
the  wrath  of  God,  as  also  that  gave  merit  and  worth  of  satisfaction  to  his 
Bufferings. 

(3.)  Neither  was  this  forsaking  in  regard  oi  grace,  as  if  faith,  or  love,  or 
any  other  grace,  were  taken  from  Christ.  Oh,  no ;  for  he  beHeved,  before 
he  said,  '  My  God,  my  God.'  Would  he  have  committed  his  dearest  jewel 
into  the  hands  of  God  if  he  had  not  beheved  in  him  ? 

Quest.  How,  then,  was  Christ  forsaken  ? 

Ans.  1.  In  regard  of  his  present  comfort  and  joy.  He  could  not  else 
have  been  a  sacrifice ;  for  as  we  cannot  suffer  by  way  of  conformity  to  Christ, 
unless  there  be  some  desertion,  that  we  may  know  the  bitterness  of  sin, 
no  more  could  Chiist  have  suffered  for  our  miquities  had  there  not  been  a 
suspension  of  Ught  and  comfort  from  his  gracious  soul. 

2.  He  was  not  only  privatively  deprived  of  all  joy  and  happiness,  but 
positively  he  felt  the  wrath  and  fury  of  the  Almighty,  whose  just  displeasure 
seized  upon  his  soul  for  sin,  as  our  surety.  All  outward  comforts  Ukewise 
forsook  him.  The  sun  withdrew  his  Hght  from  above,  and  everything 
below  was  irksome  to  him.  He  suffered  in  all  the  good  things  he  had, 
body,  soul,  good  name,  in  his  eyes,  ears,  hands,  &c.  He  was  reproached, 
and  forsaken  of  all  comforts  about  him.  He  had  not  the  common  comfort 
of  a  man  in  misery,  pity;  none  took  compassion  upon  him;  he  was  the 
very  object  of  scorn. 

Quest.  But  in  what  part  was  Christ  forsaken? 

Ans.  In  all,  both  in  body  and  soul  too,  as  may  plainly  appear. 

(1.)  First,  because  he  was  our  surety,  and  we  had  stained  our  souls,  and 
bodies  too,  offending  God  in  both  (but  in  soul  especially,  because  that  is 
the  contriver  of  all  sin,  the  body  being  but  the  instrument).  Some  sins  we 
call  spiritual  sins,  as  pride,  malice,  infidelity,  and  the  Uke;  these  touch  not 
the  body,  yet  are  the  greatest  sins  of  all  other. 

^2.)  Secondly,  if  he  had  not  suffered  in  his  soul  the  sense  of  God's  dis- 
pleasure why  should  he  thus  cry  out,  whenas  the  poor  thieves  that  suffered 
by  him  made  no  such  exclamation?  If  he  had  suffered  in  body  only,  the 
sufferings  of  Paul  and  Moses  had  been  more,  for  they  wished  to  be  sepa- 
rated from  the  joys  of  heaven  out  of  a  desire  to  promote  God's  glory  on 
earth.  Therefore  it  was,  he  saith  in  the  garden,  '  My  soul  is  heavy  unto 
death,'  Mat.  xxvi.  38. 

Obj.  Some  will  grant  that  Christ  suffered  in  soul,  but,  say  they,  it  was 
by  way  of  sympathy,  for  there  are  suffeiings  of  soul  immediately  from  God, 
and  sufferings  by  way  of  sympathy  and  agreement  with  the  body,  whenas 
the  soul  hath  a  fellow-feeling  of  the  torments  thereof;  and  so  Christ  suf- 
fered iu  soul  indeed. 

Ans.  That  is  not  all,  beloved,  but  there  were  immediate  sufferings,  even 
of  his  soul  also,  which  he  groaned  under.  God  the  Father  laid  a  heavy 
stroke  upon  that.  He  was  smitten  of  the  Lord,  Isa.  liii.  4 ;  and  when  God 
deals  immediately  with  the  soul  himself,  and  fills  it  with  his  wrath,  no 


856  ohbist's  suffebings  foe  man's  sin.^' 

creature  in  the  world  is  able  to  undergo  the  same.  None  can  inflict 
punishment  upon  the  soul  but  God  only.  Satan  may  urge  and  press  argu- 
ments of  discouragement,  and  affright  us  with  God's  displeasure ;  but  the 
inflicting  of  anger  upon  the  soul  issues  immediately  from  the  hand  of  the 
Almighty.  We  must  here,  therefore,  consider  God  as  a  righteous  Judge, 
sitting  in  heaven  in  his  judgment-seat,  taking  the  punishment  of  the  sins  of 
all  his  people  upon  Christ.  There  was  a  meeting  together  of  all  the  sins 
of  the  faithful,  from  Adam  to  the  last  man  that  shaU  be  in  the  world,  as  it 
were,  in  one  point  upon  him,  and  the  punishment  of  all  these  was  laid  on 
his  blessed  shoulders,  who  suffered  for  them  in  both  body  and  soul. 

3.  Conclusion.  But  how  could  Christ  be  forsaken  of  God,  especially  so 
forsaken  as  to  suffer  the  anger  of  his  father,  being  an  innocent  person  ? 

Ans.  1.  I  answer,  first,  the  Paschal  lamb  was  an  innocent  creature,  yet 
if  the  Paschal  lamb  be  once  made  a  sacrifice,  it  must  be  killed.  Though 
Christ  were  never  so  unblameable,  yet,  if  he  will  stoop  to  the  office  of  a 
surety,  he  must  pay  our  debt,  and  do  that  which  we  should  have  done.  K 
a  prince's  son  become  a  surety,  though  his  father  love  him  and  pity  him 
never  so  much,  yet  he  will  say,  Now  you  have  taken  this  upon  you,  you 
must  discharge  it. 

2.  Secondly,  as  in  natural  things  the  head  is  punished  for  the  fault  of 
the  body,  so  Christ,  by  communicating  his  blessed  nature  with  ours,  made 
up  one  mystical  body,  and  suffered  for  us. 

Quest.  But  upon  what  ground  should  Christ  become  our  surety? 

Ans.  1.  Because  he  was  able  to  discharge  our  debt  to  the  uttermost. 
He  was  more  eminent  than  aU  mankind,  having  two  natures  in  one,  the 
manhood  knit  to  the  Godhead. 

2.  Christ  most  willingly  gave  himself  a  sacrifice  for  us. 

3.  He  was  designed  and  predestinated  to  this  office,  yea,  he  was  anointed, 
set  out,  and  sealed  for  this  business  by  God  himself;  and  is  not  this  suffi- 
cient gi'ound  why  he  should  become  our  surety  ?  especially  if  we  consider, 

4.  That  Chi'ist  took  the  communion  of  our  nature  upon  him  for  this 
very  end,  that  he  might  be  a  full  surety,  that  his  righteousness  being 
derived  to  us,  and  our  guilt  to  him,  God's  wrath  might  be  satisfied  in  the 
self-same  nature  that  offended.  You  see  in  societies  and  cities,  if  some 
leople  offend,  the  whole  city  is  oftentimes  punished.  Though  perhaps  many 
ire  guiltless  in  it,  yet  by  reason  of  .the  communion,  all  are  punished.  So 
likewise  a  traitor's  son,  that  never  had  any  hand  in  his  father's  sin,  but 
behaved  himself  as  an  honest  subject  should  do,  yet,  having  commimion 
with  the  person  of  his  father,  being  indeed  a  piece  of  him,  is  thereupon 
justly  disinherited  by  aU  law. 

Ohj.  But  how  could  Christ  take  our  sins  upon  him  and  not  be  defiled 
therewith  ? 

Quest.  He  took  not  the  stain  of  our  sins,  but  the  guilt  of  them.  Now 
in  guilt  there  is  two  things. 

1.  A  worthiness  and  desert  of  punishment. 

2.  An  obligation  and  binding  over  thereunto. 

Christ  took  not  the  desert  of  punishment  upon  him,  from  any  fault  in 
himself;  he  took  whatsoever  was  penal  upon  him,  but  not  culpable.  As  he 
was  our  surety,  so  he  everyway  discharged  our  debt,  being  bound  over 
to  all  judgments  and  punishments  for  us. 

Now  we  owe  unto  God  a  double  debt. 

1.  A  debt  of  obedience  ;  and  if  that  fail, 

2.  A  debt  of  punishment. 


Christ's  sufferings  for  man  s  sin.  357 

"  ^And  both  these  hath  Christ  freed  us  from :  first,  by  obeying  the  will 
of  his  Father  in  everything ;  and,  secondly,  by  suffering  whatsoever  was 
due  to  us  for  our  transgressions. 

Some  heretics  that  would  shake  the  foundation  of  our  faith,  will  grant 
Christ  to  be  a  Mediator  to  intercede  for  us,  and  a  Redeemer  to  set  us  at 
liberty  from  slavery,  &c.,  but  not  to  be  a  su7-etj  to  pay  our  debt,  by  way  of 
satisfaction  to  God  for  us. 

Let  such  remember,  that  God's  pleasure  to  redeem  lost  mankind,  is  not 
so  much  by  way  of  power  and  strength,  as  by  way  of  justice,  and  therefore 
it  is  said,  Heb.  vii.  22,  '  Christ  is  become  our  surety;'  and  Paul,  when  he 
became  a  mediator  to  Philemon  for  Onesimus,  a  fugitive  servant,  did  it  by 
way  of  surety,  '  If  he  owe  thee  anything  I  will  discharge  it,'  Philem.  18; 
and  Christ  Jesus  our  Mediator  blessed  for  ever,  so  intercedeth  unto  God 
for  us,  as  that  he  fully  satisfies  his  justice  for  our  offences. 

Quest.  But  why  was  Christ  thus  forsaken  of  his  Father  ? 

Ans.  1.  To  satisfy  God  for  our  forsaking  of  him.  Christ's  forsaking 
was  satisfactory  for  all  our  forsakings  of  God.  Beloved,  we  all  forsook 
God  in  Adam,  and  indeed  what  do  we  else  in  every  sin  we  commit,  but 
forsake  the  Lord,  and  turn  to  the  creature  ?  what  are  all  our  sins  of  plea- 
sure, profit,  ambition,  and  the  like,  but  a  leaving  of  the  fountain  of  living 
waters,  to  fetch  contentment  from  '  broken  cisterns,'  Jer.  ii.  13. 

2.  But  Christ  was  chiefly  forsaken,  that  he  might  bring  us  home  again 
to  God,  that  there  might  be  no  more  a  separation  betwixt  his  blessed 
Majesty  and  us. 

Some  shallow  heretics  there  are,  that  would  have  Christ  to  be  an  exajnple 
of  patience  and  holiness  in  his  Ufe  and  death,  and  do  us  good  that  way  only. 

Oh  no,  beloved,  the  main  comfort  we  receive  from  Christ  is  by  way  of 
satisfaction.  There  must  be  first  grace,  and  then  peace  in  our  agreement 
with  God.  Sweetly,  saith  Bernard,  I  desire  indeed  to  follow  Christ  as  an 
example  of  humility,  patience,  self-denial,  &c.,  and  to  love  him  with  the 
same  affection  that  he  hath  loved  me ;  but  I  must  eat  of  the  Passover- 
Lamb,  that  is,  I  must  chiefly  feed  on  Christ  dying  for  my  sins.  So  every 
true  Christian  soul  desires  to  follow  Christ's  obedience,  humility,  patience, 
&c.,  and  to  be  transformed  into  the  likeness  of  his  blessed  Saviour.  Whom 
should  I  desire  to  be  like  more  than  him,  that  hath  done  so  much  for  me  ? 
But  yet  the  main  comfort  I  receive  from  Christ,  is  by  eating  his  body  and 
drinking  his  blood ;  my  soul  feeds  and  feasts  itself  most  of  all  upon  the 
death  of  Christ,  as  satisfying  for  my  sins.  And  what  a  comfort  is  it  that 
Christ  being  our  surety,  hath  made  full  satisfaction  for  all  our  sins. 
Surely  *  we  shall  never  be  finally  and  wholly  forsaken,  because  Christ 
was  forsaken  for  us.  Now  we  may  think  of  God  without  discomfort,  and 
of  sin  vrithout  despair.  Now  we  may  think  of  the  law  of  death,  the  curse 
and  all,  and  never  be  terrified — why  ?  Christ  our  surety  hath  given  fall 
content  of  divine  justice  for  wrath  and  law,  sin  and  curse,  &c.  They  are 
all  links  of  one  chain,  and  Christ  hath  dissolved  them  all.  Now  sin  ceaseth, 
wrath  ceaseth,  the  law  hath  nothing  to  lay  to  our  charge ;  death's  sting  is 
pulled  out.  How  comfortably,  therefore,  may  we  appear  before  God's  tri- 
bunal !  Oh,  beloved,  when  the  soul  is  brought  as  low  as  hell  almost,  then 
this  consideration  will  be  sweet,  that  Christ  was  forsaken  as  a  surety 
for  me ;  Christ  overcame  sin,  death,  God's  wrath,  and  all  for  me ;  in 
him  I  triumph  over  all  these.  What  welcome  news  is  this  to  a  distressed 
sinner !  Whenever  thy  soul  is  truly  humbled  in  the  sense  of  sin,  look  not 
*  That  is,  '  assuredly.' — G. 


858  ohkist's  suffebings  for  mait  s  sin. 

at  sin  in  thy  conscience  (thy  conscience  is  a  bed  for  another  to  lodge  in), 
but  at  Christ.  If  thou  be  a  broken-hearted  sinner,  see  thy  sins  in  Christ 
thy  Saviour  taken  away ;  see  what  he  hath  endured  and  suffered  for  them ; 
see  not  the  law  in  thy  conscience,  but  see  it  discharged  by  Christ;  see 
death  disarmed  through  him,  and  made  an  entrance  into  a  better  life  for 
thee.  Whatsoever  is  Ul,  see  it  in  Christ  before  thou  seest  it  in  thyself;  and 
when  thou  beholdest  it  there,  see  not  only  the  hurt  thereof  taken  away, 
but  all  good  made  over  to  thee ;  for  '  all  things  work  together  for  the  best 
to  them  that  love  God,'  Rom.  viii.  28.  The  devil  himself,  death,  sin,  and 
wrath,  all  help  the  main ;  the  poison  and  mischief  of  all  is  taken  away 
by  Christ,  and  all  good  conveyed  to  us  in  him.  We  have  grace  answer- 
able to  his  grace.  He  is  the  first  seat  of  God's  love,  and  it  sweetens  what- 
ever mercy  we  enjoy,  that  it  comes  from  the  fountain,  God  the  father, 
through  Christ  unto  us.  I  beseech  you  embrace  the  comfort  that  the  Holy 
Ghost  affords  us  from  these  sweet  considerations. 

Again,  in  that  Christ  was  forsaken  ;  and  not  only  so,  but  endured  the 
displeasure  and  immediate  wi-ath  of  God,  seizing  upon  his  soul,  and  fiUing 
his  heart  with  anguish  at  this  time,  we  may  learn  hence. 

How  to  discern  the  ugliness  of  sin.  1.  In  what  glass  to  look  upon  the  ugly 
thing,  sin,  to  make  it  more  ugly  unto  us.  Beloved,  if  we  would  conceive 
aright  of  sin,  let  us  see  it  in  the  angels  tumbled  out  of  heaven,  and  reserved 
in  chains  of  darkness  for  offending  God,  Jude  6  ;  see  it  in  the  casting  of 
Adam  out  of  paradise,  Gen.  iii.  23,  24,  and  all  us  in  him ;  see  it  in  the 
destruction  of  the  old  world,  and  the  Jews  carried  to  captivity,  in  the  gene- 
ral destruction  of  Jerusalem,  &c.  But  if  you  would  indeed  see  the  most 
ugly  colours  of  sin,  then  see  it  in  Christ  upon  the  cross,  see  how  many  sighs 
and  groans  it  cost  him,  how  bitter  a  thing  it  was  to  his  righteous  soul, 
forcing  him  to  weep  tears  of  blood,  and  send  forth  strong  cries  to  his  Father, 
*  My  God,  my  God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  ? '  If  sin  but  imputed  to 
Christ  our  surety,  so  affected  him  that  was  God-man,  and  lay  so  heavy  upon 
his  soul,  what  will  it  do  to  those  that  are  not  in  Christ  ?  Certainly,  the 
wrath  of  God  must  needs  bum  to  hell ;  he  will  be  a  *  consuming  fire,' 
Heb.  xii.  29,  to  all  such.  See  sin  therefore  chiefly  in  the  death  of  Christ. 
How  odious  it  is  to  God,  that  it  could  be  no  otherwise  purged  away  than 
by  the  death  of  his  beloved  Son.  AU  the  angels  in  heaven,  and  aU  the 
creatures  in  the  world  could  not  satisfy  divine  justice  for  the  least  sin.  If 
all  the  agonies  of  all  creatures  were  put  into  one,  it  were  nothing  to  Christ's 
agony ;  if  all  their  sufferings  were  put  into  one,  they  could  not  make  satis- 
faction to  divine  justice  for  the  least  sin.  Sin  is  another  manner  of  matter 
than  we  take  it  to  be.  See  the  attributes  of  God,  his  anger  against  it,  his 
justice  and  holiness,  &c.  Beloved,  men  forget  this.  They  think  God  is 
angry  against  sin  indeed,  but  yet  his  justice  is  soon  satisfied  in  Christ. 
Oh,  we  must  think  of  the  Almighty  as  a  holy  God,  separated  from  all  stain 
and  pollution  of  sin  whatsoever,  and  so  holy  that  he  enforced  a  separation 
of  his  favour  from  Christ,  for  becoming  our  surety,  and  Christ  underwent  a 
separation  from  his  Father,  because  he  undertook  for  us.  So  odious  is  sin 
to  the  holy  natm-e  of  God,  that  he  left  his  Son  while  he  struggled  with  his 
wrath  for  it ;  and  so  odious  was  sin  to  the  holy  nature  of  Christ,  that  he 
became  thus  a  sacrifice  for  the  same.  And  so  odious  are  the  remainders  of 
sin  in  the  hearts  of  the  saints,  that  all  that  belong  to  God  have  the  Spirit 
of  Christ,  which  is  as  fire  to  consume  and  waste  the  old  Adam  by  little  and 
little  out  of  them.  '  No  unclean  thing  must  enter  into  heaven,'  Rev.  xxi.  27. 
Those  that  are  not  in  Christ  by  faith,  that  have  not  a  shelter  in  him,  must 


i 


cheist's  suffeeings  iob  man's  sin.  359 

suffer  for  their  transgressions  eternally,  *  Depart,  ye  cursed,  into  everlasting 
fire,'  Mat.  xxv.  41 ;  so  holy  is  God  that  he  can  have  no  society  and  fellow- 
ship with  sinners. 

Do  you  wonder  why  God  so  much  hates  sin,  that  men  so  little  regard, 
not  only  the  lewd  sort  of  the  world,  but  common  dead-hearted  persons,  that 
set  so  little  by  it,  that  they  regard  not  spiritual  sins  at  all,  especially  hatred, 
malice,  pride,  &c.,  clothing  themselves  with  these  things  as  a  comely  gar- 
ment ?  Certainly  you  would  not  wonder  that  God  hates  sin,  if  you  did  but 
consider  how  sin  hates  God?  What  is  sin  but  a  setting  of  itself  in  God's 
room,  a  setting  the  devil  in  God's  place?  for  when  we  sin  we  leave  God,  and 
set  up  the  creature,  and  by  consequence  Satan,  that  brings  the  temptation  to 
us  ;  setting  him  in  our  hearts  before  God.  Beloved,  God  is  very  jealous, 
and  cannot  endure  that  filthy  thing  sin,  to  be  in  his  room.  Sin  is  such  a 
thing  as  desires  to  take  away  God  himself.  Ask  a  sinner  when  he  is  about 
to  sin,  Could  you  not  wish  that  there  were  no  God  at  all,  that  there  were 
no  eye  of  heaven  to  take  vengeance  on  you?  Oh  aye,  with  all  my 
heart.  And  can  you  then  wonder  that  God  hates  sin  so,  when  it  hates  him 
so,  as  to  wish  the  not  being  of  God  ?  Oh  marvel  not  at  it,  but  have  such 
conceits  of  sin  as  God  had  when  he  gave  his  Son  to  die  for  it,  and  such  as 
Christ  had,  when  in  the  sense  of  his  Father's  anger  he  cried  thus,  '  My  God, 
my  God,'  &c. 

The  deeper  our  thoughts  are  of  the  odiousness  of  sin,  the  deeper  our 
comfort  and  joy  in  Christ  will  be  after  ;  therefore  I  beseech  you  work  yom* 
hearts  to  a  serious  consideration  what  that  sin  is  that  we  cherish  so  much, 
and  will  not  be  reproved  for,  and  which  we  leave  God  and  heaven,  and  all 
to  embrace;  conceive  of  it  as  God  doth,  that  must  be  a  Judge,  and  will  one 
day  call  us  to  a  strict  account  for  the  same. 

If  Christ  cried  out  thus,  '  My  God,  my  God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken 
me  ? '  as  being  our  surety  for  our  sins,  we  may  see  what  to  conceive  of  sin, 
and  of  God  the  better. 

But  above  all  things  I  desire  you  to  see  often  in  this  glass,  in  this  book 
of  Christ  crucified  (it  is  an  excellent  book  to  study),  the  mercy  of  God  and 
the  love  of  Christ,  the  height,  and  depth,  and  breadth  of  God's  love  in  Jesus 
Christ,  which  hath  no  dimensions.  What  set  God  on  work  to  plot  this  ex- 
cellent work  of  our  salvation  and  redemption  by  such  a  surety, — was  it  not 
mercy  ?  Did  not  that  awaken  wisdom  to  reconcile  justice  and  mercy  to* 
Christ  ?  But  what  stirred  up  this  wisdom  of  God  ?  Oh,  bowels  of  com- 
passion to  man !  He  would  not  have  man  perish,  when  the  angels  did, 
without  remedy. 

Therefore  let  us  desire  to  be  inflamed  with  the  love  of  God,  that  hath  loved 
us  so  much.  All  the  favours  of  God  in  Christ  tend,  next  after  satisfaction 
to  justice,  to  inflame  our  hearts  to  love  him  again.  Wherefore  else  are  the 
favours  of  creation  and  providence  ?  How  sweet  is  God  in  providing  for 
our  bodies,  giving  us  not  only  for  necessity,  but  abundance,  withholding  no 
comfort  that  is  good  for  us,  &c. 

But  chiefly  in  his  masterpiece,  God  would  have  us  apprehend  the  greatest 
love  of  all  other,  because  there  he  hath  set  himself  to  glorify  his  mercy 
more  than  anything  else !  Therefore  we  may  well  ciy  with  the  apostle,  '  Oh  the 
height  of  his  love,'  &c.,  Ephes.  iii.  18.  I  beseech  you  fix  your  thoughts  on 
this,  think  not  now  and  then  slightly  of  it,  but  dwell  on  the  meditation  of  the 
infinite  love  of  God  in  Christ,  till  your  hearts  be  enlarged  and  warmed  and 
inflamed  with  the  consideration  thereof ;  and  then  love  will  set  you  forward 

*  Qu.  '  by  ? '— E»- 


860  Christ's  sufferings  for  man's  sin. 

to  all  good  works.  What  need  we  bid  you  be  liberal  to  tbe  poor,  to  be  good 
subjects,  just  in  your  dealings,  &c.  ?  All  this  may  be  spared  when  there  is  a 
loving  heart.  And  when  shall  we  have  loving  hearts  ?  When  they  are  kindled 
and  fired  at  God's  fire;  when  they  are  persuaded  of  God's  love,  then  the 
apprehension  of  his  love  will  breed  love  in  our  hearts  again ;  and  that  is  the 
reason  why  the  apostles  are  not  so  punctual  as  heathen  authors  in  particu- 
larities of  duties.  They  force  upon  men  especially  the  love  of  God,  and  the 
ground-points  of  religion,  as  knowing  when  the  heart  is  seasoned  vrith 
that  once,  it  is  ready  prepared  to  every  good  duty.  Think  seriously 
of  this,  '  The  love  of  Christ  constraineth  me,'  2  Cor.  v.  14.  There  is  a  hol^ 
violence  in  love ;  there  is  a  spiritual  kind  of  tyranny  and  prevailing  in  this  grace 

One  thing  further  we  may  learn  from  this  forsaking  of  Christ,  viz.,  that, 

It  is  no  strange  thing  for  God's  dear  children  to  he  forsaken. 

To  have  the  apprehension  of  their  sins,  and  the  wrath  of  God,  to  be 
forsaken,  in  regard  of  sense  of  all  comfort,  do  we  not  see  it  done  in  the 
natural  Son  ?  and  shall  we  wonder  that  it  is  done  in  the  adopted  sons  ? 
We  see  this  forsaking  was  in  the  natural  branch,  and  shall  we  wonder  that 
it  is  done  in  the  grafted  branches  ?  It  was  done  to  the  green  tree,  and 
shall  we  wonder  if  it  be  done  in  the  dry  ?     No,  certainly. 

The  whole  church  complains,  Ps.  Ixix.  21 ;  of  drinking  gall  and  worm- 
wood, Ezek.  xxxvi.  3 ;  that  God  was  hid  in  a  cloud.  Lam.  iii.  15,  &c. 
Both  the  head  complains,  and  the  body  too,  as  we  see  in  David,  Job,  and 
other  saints ;  so  that  there  is  a  kind  of  desertion  and  forsaking  that  the 
child  of  God  must  undergo. 

Quest.  What  is  the  ground  and  end  of  it  ? 

Ans.  1.  First,  God's  prerogative  is  such,  that  sometimes  when  there  is 
no  great  sin  to  provoke  him  to  withdraw  comfort,  yet  will  he  leave  holy 
men  to  themselves,  to  shew  that  he  will  do  as  pleaseth  him. 

2.  Another  ground  is,  our  own  estate  and  condition.  We  are  here 
absent  from  the  Lord,  strangers  on  earth.  Now  we  would  take  our  pilgrim- 
age for  our  country,  if  we  had  always  comfort  and  new  supplies  of  joy. 

3.  Again,  our  disposition  is  to  live  by  sense  more  than  by  faith.  We 
are  as  children  in  this.  We  would  have  God  ever  smile  upon  us,  that  we 
might  walk  in  abundance  of  comfort ;  and  I  cannot  blame  Christians  for 
desiring  it,  if  they  desu'e  the  work  of  grace  in  the  first  place ;  if  they  desire 
the  work  of  God  in  them,  rather  than  the  shining  of  comfort  by  the  Spirit, 
for  that  is  the  best  work.  Now  because  Christians  desire  rather  to  live  by 
sight  than  by  faith,  wherein  they  might  honour  God  more,  he  leaves  them 
ofttimes.  Sight  is  reserved  for  another  world,  for  the  church  triumphant. 
There  we  shall  have  sight  enough ;  we  shall  see  God  face  to  face. 

4.  Sometimes  God's  children  are  negligent,  and  keep  not  a  holy  watch 
over  their  souls ;  they  cleave  to  the  creature  too  much,  and  then  no  wonder 
though  God  forsake  them,  since  they  will  have  stolen  waters  of  their  own, 
and  fetch  comfort  elsewhere. 

5.  But  one  main  ground  is,  conformity  to  Christ.  He  suffered  for  our 
sins,  and  God  will  conform  the  members  in  some  measure 'to  their  head. 
Though  Christ  drank  the  cup  of  God's  wrath  to  the  bottom,  yet  we  must 
sip  and  taste  a  little,  that  we  may  know  how  much  we  are  beholden  to 
Christ ;  and  there  are  few  that  come  to  heaven,  few  that  truly  belong  to 
God,  but  they  know  what  sin  is,  and  what  the  wrath  of  God  is,  first  or  last. 
The  wrath  of  God  is  the  best  corrosive  in  the  world  to  eat  out  sin.  A 
little  anger  of  God  felt  in  the  conscience  will  make  a  man  hate  pride  and 
malice,  and  aU  sin  whatsoever. 


I 


ohri3t's  sufferings  for  man's  sin.  861 

I 

Quest.  But  for  what  end  doth  God  leave  his  children,  as  he  did  here  our 
blessed  Saviour  ? 

Ans.  1.  In  regard  of  himself. 
I    2.  In  regard  of  his  children. 

1.  In  regard  of  himself,  he  leaves  them  that  he  may  comfort  them  more 
afterwards ;  that  he  may  bring  more  love  with  him ;  and  that  they  may  love 
him  more  than  before.  There  will,  after  a  little  forsaking,  be  a  mutual 
reflection  of  love  between  God  and  a  Christian.  God  delights  to  shew  him- 
self more  abundantly  after  a  Httle  forsaking,  and  the  soul  enlargeth  itself 
after  it  hath  wanted  the  love  of  God ;  for  want  enlargeth  the  capacity  of  the 
Boul,  and  want  makes  it  stretch  itself  to  receive  more  comfort  when  it  comes. 
God  doth  this  for  the  increase  of  his  love  to  us,  and  of  our  love  to  him  again. 
He  both  draws  nigh  to  us,  and  goes  away,  in  regard  of  feeling  for  our  good. 

2.  That  we  may  be  more  watchful  over  our  hearts  for  the  time  to  come ; 
that  there  may  be  a  more  perfect  divorce  and  separation  wrought  in  us  to 
the  creatures.  Our  adulterous  hearts  have  '  stolen  delights '  that  God  likes 
not ;  and,  therefore,  when  we  have  smarted  for  it  in  the  anger  and  dis- 
pleasure of  God,  a  divorce  wUl  be  wrought.  It  is  hard  to  work  a  separa- 
tion from  sin,  sin  and  the  soul  being  so  nearly  invested  together  ;  yet  God 
therefore  uses  this  way  of  spiritual  desertion  to  effect  the  same. 

I  3.  Likewise  to  make  a  Christian  soul  ransack  and  search  the  ground  of 
all  the  comforts  that  are  left  him  by  God.  It  will  make  him  rifle  and  search 
aU  the  Scriptures.  Is  there  any  comfort  for  me,  poor  wretch,  that  am 
troubled  with  sin  ?  It  will  make  him  search  the  experience  of  other  Chris- 
tians. Have  you  any  word  of  comfort  for  me  ?  It  will  make  him  regard  a 
gracious  man  as  '  one  of  a  thousand.'  It  will  make  him  stretch  his  heart  in 
all  the  degrees  of  grace.  Have  I  any  evidence  that  I  am  the  child  of  God, 
and  not  a  cast-away  ?  It  wiU  make  him  search  his  heart  in  regard  of  cor- 
niption.  Is  there  any  sin  that  I  am  not  willing  to  part  with  ?  &c.  Be^ 
loved,  God  many  times  leaves  us  ;  and  not  only  leaves  us,  but  makes  our 
naked  conscience  smart  for  sin.  Oh  !  this  is  a  quickening  thing !  A 
child  of  God  that  is  of  the  right  stamp  will  not  endure  to  be  under  God's 
wrath  long.  Oh,  it  is  bitter !  He  knows  what  it  is  to  enjoy  communion 
with  God.  He  will  not  endure  it.  Therefore,  it  stirs  him  up  to  all  manner 
of  diligence  whatsoever. 

Qiiest.  But  is  there  no  difference  between  Christ's  sufferings  and  smart, 
for  sin  and  ours  ? 

I  Ans.  Yes  (1),  the  sufferings  of  Christ  came  from  the  vindictive  *  and 
revenging  f  hand  of  God,  as  a  just  Judge  ;  but  ours  proceed  £i-om  him  as  a 
loving  Father ;  for  God,  when  we  are  in  Christ,  is  changed.  He  layeth 
aside  the  person  of  a  Judge.  Having  received  fall  satisfaction  in  Christ, 
he  is  now  in  the  relation  of  a  sweet  Father  to  us. 

(2.)  Again,  there  is  difference  in  the  measure.  We  take  but  a  taste  of 
the  cup,  sweetened  with  some  comfort  and  moderated ;  but  Christ  drank 
deep  of  the  same. 

(3.)  In  the  end  and  use.  The  sufferings  and  forsaking  of  Christ  were 
satisfactory  to  divine  justice ;  but  ours  are  not  so,  but  only  medicinal. 
The  nature  of  them  is  quite  changed.  They  are  not  for  satisfaction ;  for 
then  we  should  die  eternally  ;  disable  the  satisfaction  of  Christ.  They  are 
crosses  indeed,  but  not  curses.  Whatsoever  we  suffer  in  soul  or  body  is  a 
cross,  but  not  a  curse  unto  us  ;  because  the  sting  is  pulled  out.  They  are 
all  medicinal  cures  to  fit  us  for  heaven.     Whatsoever  we  sufier  in  our  in- 

*  That  is,  '  vindicative,  vindicatory.' — G  t  That  is,  '  avenging.' — G. 


862  Christ's  sufferings  ron  maw  s  sia.  i 

ward  or  outward  man,  prepares  us  for  glory,  by  mortifying  the  remainders 
of  corruptions,  and  fitting  us  for  that  blessed  estate. 

(4.)  All  other  men's  deaths  are  for  themselves.  As  Leo  saith,  Singula  in 
singulis  fa) ;  they  are  single  deaths  for  single  men.  But  it  is  otherwise 
here  ;  for  all  the  children  of  God  were  forsaken  in  their  head,  crucified  in 
their  head,  and  died  in  Christ  their  head.  Christ's  death  was  a  public 
satisfaction.  No  man  dieth  for  another,  let  the  papists  say  what  they  wiU ; 
only  Christ  died  for  all,  and  suffered  for  his  whole  body.  And  thus  much 
of  the  first  general,  that  Christ  was  forsaken. 

2.  The  second  is  this,  Christ  ivas  very  sensible  of  it,  even  to  complaint 
and  expostulation.  My  God,  My  God,  &c.  Why  should  it  be  thus  be- 
tween the  Father  and  the  Son  ?  between  such  a  Father  and  such  a  Son,  a 
kind,  loving  Father  to  his  natural,  obedient,  and  only  Son  ?  The  word  is 
strong,  beloved,  he  was  not  only  forsaken,  but  exposed  to  danger,  and  left 
in  it,  being  very  sensible  of  the  same.  Every  word  here  expresseth  some 
bowels.  He  doth  not  say,  the  Jews  have  forsaken  me ;  or  my  beloved  dis- 
ciples and  apostles  that  I  made  much  of  have  forsaken  me,  or  Pilate  would 
not  do  the  duty  of  a  true  judge  ;  my  feet  are  pierced,  my  head  is  wounded, 
my  body  is  racked,  hanging  on  the  cross,  &c.  ;  he  complains  of  none  of 
these,  though  they  were  things  to  be  complained  of,  and  would  have  sunk 
any  creature  to  have  felt  that  in  his  body  that  he  did,  but  that  which  went 
nearest  to  him,  was  this,  '  Oh,  my  God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  ?'  I 
stand  not  upon  others  forsaking,  but  why  hast  tliou  forsaken  me  ?  I  stand 
more  upon  thy  forsaking  than  the  forsaking  of  all  others.  Christ  was  very 
sensible  of  this  ;  it  went  to  his  very  heart. 

But  what  special  reason  was  there  that  Christ  should  take  this  so 
deeply  ? 

1.  First  of  all,  because  the  lovingkindness  of  the  Lord  is  better  than  life  itself, 
as  David  the  type  of  Christ  well  said,  Ps.  xiii.  8  ;  the  forsaking  of  God 
being  indeed  worse  than  death.  The  lovingkindness  of  the  Lord  is  that 
that  sweeteneth  all  discomforts  in  the  world ;  the  want  of  that  embitters  all 
comforts  to  us.  If  we  be  condemned  traitors,  what  wiU  aU  comforts  do  to 
a  condemned  man  ?  The  want  of  God's  love  embitters  all  good,  and  the 
presence  thereof  sweeteneth  all  ill;  death,  imprisonment,  and  all  crosses 
whatsoever.  Therefore  Christ  having  a  sanctified  judgment,  in  the  highest 
degree,  judgeth  the  loss  of  this  to  be  the  worst  thing. 

2.  The  sweeter  the  communion  is  with  God  the  fountain  of  good,  the  more 
intolerable  and  unsufferahle  is  the  separation  from  him ;  but  none  had  ever  so 
near  and  sweet  a  communion  with  God  as  Christ  our  Mediator  had,  for  he 
was  both  God  and  man  in  one  person,  the  beloved  Son  of  his  Father.  Now 
the  communion  before  being  so  near  and  so  sweet  unto  him,  a  Uttle  want  of 
the  same  must  needs  be  unsufferahle.  Things  the  nearer  they  are,  the  more 
difiicult  the  separation  will  be  ;  as  when  the  skin  is  severed  from  the  flesh, 
and  the  flesh  from  the  bones,  oh,  it  is  irksome  to  nature ;  much  more  was 
Christ's  separation  from  the  sense  of  his  Father's  love.  Those  that  love, 
live  more  in  the  party  loved,  than  in  themselves.  Christ  was  in  love  with 
the  person  of  his  Father,  and  lived  in  him.  Now  to  want  the  sense  of  his 
love,  considering  that  love  desires  nothing  but  the  return  of  love  again,  it 
must  needs  be  death  unto  him. 

3.  Another  ground  that  Christ  was  thus  sensible,  was,  because  he  was  best 
able  to  apprehend  the  ivorth  of  communion  tvith  God,  and  best  able  to  appre- 
hend ivhat  the  anger  of  God  was.  'He  had  a  large  judgment,  and  a  more 
capacious  soul  than  any  other;  therefore  being  filled  with  the  wrath  of  God, 


Christ's  sufferings  for  man's  sin.  363 

he  was  able  to  hold  more  wrath  than  any  man  else.     He  could  deepest 
apprehend  wrath,  that  had  so  deep  a  taste  of  love  before. 

4.  Again,  m  regard  of  his  body  :  the  grief  of  Christ,  both  in  hodtj  and  soul, 
was  the  greatest  that  ever  was,  for  he  was  in  the  strength  of  his  years ;  he 
had  not  dulled  his  spirits  with  intemperancy ;  he  was  quick  and  able  to 
apprehend  pam,  being  of  an  excellent  temperature. 

Use.  Was  Christ  so  exceedmg  sensible  of  the  want  of  his  Father's  love, 
though  it  were  but  a  while  ?  I  beseech  you  then,  let  us  have  merciful  con- 
siderations of  those  that  suffer  in  conscience,  and  are  troubled  in  mind. 
Oh,  it  IS  another  manner  of  matter  than  the  world  takes  it  for !  It  is  no 
easy  thing  to  conflict  with  God's  anger,  though  but  a  little.  It  was  the 
lault  oi  Job  s  friends ;  they  should  have  judged  charitably  of  him,  but  they 
did  not.  Take  heed,  therefore,  of  making  desperate  conclusions  against  our- 
selves or  other,  when  the  arrows  of  the  Almighty  stick  in  us,  when  we 
smart  and  shew  our  distemper  in  the  apprehension  of  the  terrors  of  the  Lord 
seizing  upon  our  souls.  God  is  about  a  gracious  work  aU  this  while  •  the 
niore  sensible  men  are  of  the  anger  of  God,  the  more  sensible  they  wiU  be 
ol  the  return  of  his  favour  again. 

.,  "^^^f.®  ^^®  ^°^®  insensible,  stupid  creatures,  that  are  neither  sensible  of 
the  afflictions  they  suffer  in  body,  nor  of  the  manifestation  of  God's  anger 
on  then-  soul.  Notwithstanding,  he  follows  them  with  his  corrections,  yet 
they  are  as  dead  flesh,  unmoveable  ;  therefore,  '  Why  should  I  smite  them 
any  longer,'  &c.,  Isa.  i.  5,  saith  God. 

This  comes  from  three  grounds  : 

(1.)  'Exom  pride,  when  men  think  it  a  shame  for  such  Koman  sphits  as 
they  are  to  stoop. 

(2.)  Or  from  hypocrisy,  when  they  will  not  discover  their  grief,  though 
then-  conscience  be  out  of  tune. 

(3.)  Or  else  out  of  stiqnd  blockishness,  which  is  worst  of  aU,  when  they 
are  not  affected  with  the  signs  of  God's  wrath.  It  is  a  good  thing  to  be 
affectedwith  the  least  token  of  God's  displeasure,  when  we  can  gather  by 
good  evidence  that  God  hath  a  quarrel  against  us.  You  see  how  sensible 
Christ  was,  and  so  will  it  be  with  us  if  we  get  not  into  him  betimes ;  we 
shall  be  sensible  of  sin  one  day  whether  we  wiU  or  no  ;  conscience  is  not 
put  m  us  for  nought.  You  may  stupify  and  stifle  the  mouth  of  conscience 
with  this  or  that  trick  now,  but  it  will  not  be  so  for  ever ;  it  will  discharge 
Its  oflice,  and  lay  bitter  things  to  our  charge,  and  stare  m  our  faces,  and 
drive  us  to  despau-  one  day.  Sin  is  another  matter  when  it  is  revealed  to 
conscience  than  we  take  it,  howsoever  we  go  blockishly  and  stupidly  on 
now.  It  IS  sweet  m  the  temptation  and  aUurement,  but  it  hath  an  iU  fare- 
well and  stmg.  If  we  could  judge  of  sin  as  we  shaU  do  when  it  is  past, 
especially  when  we  come  to  our  reckonhig  at  the  hour  of  death,  and  at  the 
day  of  judgment,  then  we  would  be  of  another  mind;  then  we  would  say 
that  all  sinners,  as  the  Scripture  terms  them,  '  are  fools,'  Ps.  xciv.  8.  But 
to  go  on. 

Christ  we  see  expresseth  his  sensibleness  by  complaint;  '  My  God,  my  God,  why 
hast  thou  forsaken  me  ? '  ^  ^ 

Caution.  Here  some  cautions  must  be  rendered  that  we  do  not  mistake. 
Christ  complains  not  of  God  but  to  God. 

Obj.  Was  Christ  ignorant  of  the  cause  of  God's  forsaking  him  ? 
Am.  No,  he  knew  the  cause,  for  his  sufferings  were  intolerable ;  but 

™.?  "^Y  ^**-'^®  ^P°^  ^'^'  ^®  *^^®^  °^  SP^^<^^  also,  and  expresseth  him- 
self hke  to  a  miserable  man;  having  the  greatest  affliction  that  ever  was  upon 


364  Christ's  suffeeings  for  mak's  sin. 

a  creature.  The  divine  nature  of  Christ  stopped  the  excess  of  any  passion ; 
he  was  turbated  but  not  perturbated ;  he  was  moved  with  the  sins  of  men, 
but  not  removed ;  he  was  as  water  in  a  clear  glass.  There  is  nothing  but 
water  though  you  stir  it  never  so  much  :  if  there  were  mud  in  it,  it  would 
Boon  be  unclean.  We  cannot  stir  our  affections  and  complain  but  with  a 
tincture  of  sin.  It  was  not  so  with  Christ.  He  knew  when  to  raise  and 
when  to  allay  his  affections ;  and  though  there  were  much  nature  in  these 
affections,  a  natural  shunning  of  grief,  and  a  natural  desire  of  God's  pre- 
sence ;  yet  here  was  grace  to  direct  and  sanctify  the  same ;  for  nature 
sometimes  carries  grace  with  a  stronger  wind,  more  fully  when  they  go 
both  in  one  current,  as  here.  It  was  grace  to  have  the  love  of  God,  yea, 
it  was  death  to  be  without  it,  and  it  was  sinless  nature  to  desire  ease ;  for 
without  sin  nature  may  desire  ease,  so  it  be  with  submission  of  itself  to 
God.  For  the  soul  may  have  divers  desires  as  there  are  divers  objects  pre- 
sented to  it.  When  the  soul  apprehends  release  and  ease,  it  rejoices  and 
is  glad;  but  when  upon  higher  considerations  and  better  ends  there  is 
pain  presented  to  the  soul  to  do  it  good,  the  soul  may  desire  that,  and  upon 
deliberation  choose  that  it  refused  before.  A  man  may  have  his  hand  cut 
off,  and  cast  his  wares  into  the  sea,  that  he  would  not  willingly  do,  yet 
when  upon  deliberation  he  considers,  I  shall  save  my  life  by  it,  he  will 
do  it.  So  Christ  by  a  natural  desire,  without  sin,  might  desire  release  of 
pain,  but  when  it  was  presented  to  him,  what  shall  become  of  the  salva- 
tion of  men  and  obedience  to  God  then  ?  Upon  these  considerations,  that 
respected  higher  ends,  there  might  be  another  choice  ;  so  in  things  subor- 
dinate one  to  another,  one  thing  may  cross  another,  and  yet  all  be  good  too. 

But  you  must  know  this  likewise,  that  forsaking  and  to  be  sensible  of 
forsaking,  is  no  sin,  especially  when  it  is  not  contracted  by  any  sin  of 
ours.  It  is  a  suffering,  but  not  a  sin ;  and  to  be  sensible  of  it  is  no  sin.  It 
is  rather  a  sin  to  be  otherwise  affected.  God  allows  those  affections  that 
he  hath  planted  in  us :  he  hath  planted  fear  and  sorrow  in  presenting  dolo- 
rous objects.  If  a  man  do  not  sorrow  in  objects  of  sorrow,  he  is  not  a 
man  after  God's  making.  God  allows  grief  and  fear  in  afflictions  and 
trouble,  always  remembering  it  be  with  submission  to  him,  '  Not  as  I 
will,  but  as  thou  wilt,'  Matt.  xxvi.  30. 

Again,  consider  Christ  was  now  in  a  conflicting  condition  between  doubting 
and  despair,  the  powers  of  hell  being  round  about  him.  Satan  as  he  was  busy 
about  him  at  the  entrance  into  his  office.  Mat.  iv.  1-11,  so  he  was 
now  vexing  his  righteous  soul  with  temptations,  '  God  hath  forsaken 
thee,*  and  this  and  that.  We  know  not  the  malice  of  Satan  at  such  a 
time ;  but  certainly  the  powers  of  hell  were  all  let  loose  then  upon  him. 
The  truth  is,  God  had  a  purpose  to  finish  his  sufferings  presently  upon  his 
complaint,  and  because  he  will  have  us  all  receive  what  we  receive,  even 
Christ  himself,  by  prayer  and  opening  our  desires  to  him,  God  suffers 
Christ  to  complain,  and  pour  out  his  suppUcation  into  his  bosom,  that  pre- 
sently after,  he  might  be  released  of  all,  seeing  he  had  now  fully  satisfied 
for  the  sins  of  man. 

Use.  The  use  of  it  in  a  word  is  this.  That  God  having  stooped  so  low  to  poor 
creatures,  to  be  a  father  and  a  friend  to  them,  will  suffer  them  familiarly 
(as  there  is  a  great  deal  of  familiarity  in  the  spirit  of  adoption),  yet  reverently, 
to  lay  open  their  griefs  into  his  bosom,  and  reason  the  case  with  his  Majesty, 
without  sin.  Why,  Lord,  am  I  thus  forsaken  ?  what  is  the  matter  ?  where 
are  the  sounding  of  thy  bowels  ?  where  are  thy  former  mercies  ?  &c. 
There  is  another  kind  of  familiarity  between  God  and  his  children  than  the 


Christ's  sufferings  for  man's  sin.  365 

world  takes  notice  of;  yet  withal  remember,  they  are  not  murmuring  com- 
plaints, but  seasoned  with  faith  and  love,  as  here,  my  God,  my  God  still. 
Whence  you  see  that, 

Christ  in  his  greatest  extremities  had  a  spirit  of  faith. 

3.  There  is  a  question  between  the  papists  and  us  about  Christ's 
faith;  they  will  have  him  to  be  a  comprehender  and  a  traveller,  &c. 
Indeed,  he  needed  no  justifying  faith  to  apply  anything  from  without  him, 
because  he  had  righteousness  enough  of  his  own  ;  but  yet  to  depend 
upon  God  as  his  Father,  so  he  had  faith ;  neither  was  he  alway  in  the  state 
of  happiness,  for  that  distinction  is  a  confusion  of  the  abasement  of  Christ 
and  his  exaltation.  Howsoever,  there  was  the  happiness  of  union  (the 
human  nature  being  alway  united  to  the  Godhead),  yet  there  was  not 
alway  the  happiness  of  vision ;  he  did  not  see  the  face  of  God,  for  then 
why  did  he  cry  out,  *  My  God,  my  God,'  &c.  ?  Sight  was  due  to  him  from 
his  incarnation  in  himself  considered,  not  as  our  surety.  Now  that  which 
made  a  stop  of  the  influence  of  comfort  to  his  soul  was,  that  he  might  fully 
suffer  for  our  sins,  that  he  might  be  humbled  and  tempted,  and  suffer  even 
death  itself.  Therefore,  in  regard  of  the  state  of  humiliation,  there  was 
faith  in  him,  faith  of  dependence ;  there  was  hope  in  him,  and  he  made 
great  use  thereof  to  support  himself. 

Quest.  But  what  supported  the  faith  of  Christ  in  this  woeful,  rueful  estate 
he  was  in,  being  forsaken  of  God  as  our  surety  ? 

Ans.  Christ  presented  to  his  faith  these  things. 

1.  The  unchangeable  nature  of  God,  my  God,  &c.  '  Whom  he  once 
loves,  he  koves  to  the  end,'  John  xiii.  1 ;  therefore  he  lays  claim  to  him; 
thou  hast  been  my  God  heretofore,  and  so  thoii  art  still. 

2.  Again,  faith  presented  to  the  soul  of  Christ,  God's  manner  of  deahng. 
He  knew  well  enough  that  God  by  contraries  brings  contraries  to  pass.  He 
brings  to  heaven  by  the  gates  of  hell,  he  brings  to  glory  by  shame,  to  Hfe 
by  death,  and  therefore  resolves,  notwithstanding  this  desertion,  I  wiU 
depend  upon  my  God. 

3.  Again,  Christ  knew  well  enough  that  God  is  nearest  in  support  when 
he  IS  furthest  off  in  feehng.  So  it  is  oft,  where  he  is  nearest  the  inward 
man,  to  strengthen  it  with  his  love,  he  is  furthest  off  in  comfort  to  outward 
sense.  To  whom  was  God  nearer  than  Christ  in  support  and  sanctifying 
grace  ?  and  yet  to  whom  was  he  further  off  in  present  feeling  ?  Christ 
knew  that  there  was  a  secret  sense  of  God's  love,  and  a  sensible  sense  of 
God's  love ;  he  had  a  secret  sense  of  God  that  he  was  his  Father,  because 
he  knew  himself  to  be  his  Son,  but  he  had  it  not  sensibly.  Faith  must  be 
suitable  to  the  thing  beHeved.  Now  Christ,  in  saying  My  God,  suits  his  faith 
to  the  truth  that  was  offered  to  him ;  he  knew  God  in  the  greatest  extremity 
to  be  nearest  at  hand.    '  Be  not  far  off,  for  trouble  is  near,'  &c.,  Ps.  xxii.  11. 

This  should  teach  us  in  any  extremity  or  trouble,  to  set  faith  on  work, 
and  feed  faith  with  the  consideration  of  God's  unchangeable  nature,  and  the 
unchangeableness  of  his  promises,  which  endure  for  ever.  We  change,  but 
the  promise  changeth  not,  and  God  changeth  not ;  my  God  still :  '  The 
word  of  the  Lord  endureth  for  ever,'  1  Pet.  i.  25.  God  deals  with  his 
people  m  a  hidden  manner;  he  supports  with  secret,  though  not  with 
sensible  comfort,  and  will  be  nearest  when  he  seems  to  be  furthest  off  his 
children.  I  beseech  you,  acquaint  yourselves  with  these  things,  and  think 
it  not  strange  that  God  comes  near  you  in  desertions,  considering  that  it 
was  so  with  Christ.  Present  to  thy  soul  the  nature  of  God,  his  custom 
and  manner  of  dealing,  so  shalt  thou  apprehend  favour  in  the  midst  of 


866  oheist's  suffeeings  fob  man's  sin. 

wrath,  and  glory  in  the  midst  of  shame.  We  shall  see  life  in  death  ;  wo 
shall  see  through  the  thickest  clouds  that  are  between  God  and  us.  For  as 
God  shines  in  the  heart  in  his  love  secretly  through  all  temptations  and 
troubles,  so  there  is  a  spirit  of  faith  goes  back  to  him  again :  my  God,  my 
God.  For  faith  hath  a  quick  eye,  and  seeth  through  contraries.  There 
is  no  cloud  of  grief  but  faith  will  pierce  through  it,  and  see  a  father's  heart 
under  the  carriage  of  an  enemy.  Christ  had  a  great  burden  upon  him, 
the  sins  of  the  whole  world ;  yet  he  breaks  through  all.  I  am  now  sin, 
I  bear  the  guUt  of  the  whole  world,  yet  under  this  person  that  I  sustain,  I 
am  a  son,  and  God  is  my  God  still,  notwithstanding  all  this  weight  of  sin 
upon  me.  And  shall  not  we,  beloved,  say.  My  God,  in  any  affliction  or 
trouble  that  befalls  us  ?  Oh  yes.  In  the  sense  of  sin,  which  is  the  bitterest 
of  all,  and  in  the  sense  of  God's  anger,  in  losses  and  crosses,  in  our  famihes 
&c.,  let  us  break  through  those  clouds,  and  say,  My  God,  still. 

Obj.  But  you  will  say,  I  may  apprehend  a  he ;  perhaps  God  is  not  my 
God,  and  then  it  is  presumption  to  say  so. 

Ans.  Whosoever  casts  himself  upon  God,  out  of  the  sense  of  sin,  to  be 
ruled  by  God  for  the  time  to  come,  shall  obtain  mercy.  Now,  dost  thou 
so  ?  doth  thy  conscience  tell  thee,  I  cast  myself  upon  God  for  better  direc- 
tion ;  I  would  be  ruled  as  God  and  the  ministry  of  the  Word  would  have  me 
hereafter.  If  so,  thou  hast  put  this  question  out  of  question :  thou  doubtest 
whether  God  be  thy  God ;  I  tell  thee  God  is  the  God  of  all  that  seek  him, 
and  obey  him  in  trath.  But  thy  conscience  tells  thee  thou  dost  this,  cer- 
tainly then,  whatsoever  thou  wert  before,  God  is  now  beforehand  with 
thee.  He  offers  himself  to  be  thy  God,  if  thou  trust  in  him,  and  wilt  be 
ruled  by  him ;  and  not  only  so,  but  he  entreats  us  (we  should  beseech  him, 
but  he  entreats  us,  such  is  his  love),  nay,  he  commands  us  to  believe  in 
his  Son  Jesus  Christ.  Now,  when  I  join  with  God's  entreaty,  Oh  Lord, 
thou  offerest  thyself,  thou  invitest  me,  thou  commandest  me,  I  yield  obedi- 
ence and  submit  to  thy  good  word ;  then  the  match  is  stricken  and 
made  up  in  doing  so.  God  is  thy  God,  and  Christ  is  thy  Christ,  and  thou 
must  improve  this  claim  and  interest  here,  in  all  the  passages  of  thy  Ufe 
long.  Lord,  thou  art  my  God,  therefore  teach  me ;  thou  art  my  God,  I 
have  given  myself  to  thee,  I  have  set  up  thee  in  my  heart  above  all  things, 
thou  art  in  my  soul  above  all  sin,  above  all  profits  and  pleasures  whatsoever, 
therefore  save  me,  and  deUver  me,  have  pity  upon  me,  &c.  The  claim  is 
good  when  we  have  truly  given  oiirselves  up  to  him,  else  God  may  say, 
'  Go  to  the  gods  you  have  served,'  Jud.  x.  14 ;  men  were  your  gods,  for 
whom  you  cracked  your  consciences,  riches  and  pleasure  were  your  gods, 
go  to  them  for  succour. 

Oh,  beloved,  it  is  a  harder  matter  to  say,  My  God,  in  the  midst  of 
trouble,  than  the  world  takes  it.  There  was  a  great  conflict  in  Christ  when 
he  said,  My  God,  when  he  brake  through  all  molestations  and  temptations 
of  Satan,  together  with  the  sense  of  wrath,  and  could  say  notwithstanding, 
My  God.  There  was  a  mighty  strong  spirit  in  him.  But  no  wonder;  faith 
is  an  almighty  grace,  wrought  by  the  power  of  God,  and  laying  hold  upon 
that  power,  it  lays  hold  upon  omnipotency,  and  therefore  it  can  do  wonders, 
it  overcomes  the  invincible  God.  He  hath  made  a  promise,  and  cannot  deny 
his  promise ;  he  cannot  deny  himself  and  his  truth.  Put  case  his  dealing  be 
as  an  enemy.  His  promise  is  to  be  as  a  friend  to  those  that  trust  in  him :  he 
is  merciful,  forgiving  sins ;  his  nature  now  is  such.  Satisfaction  to  his  justice 
makes  him  shew  mercy. 

I  speak  this  that  you  might  beg  of  God  the  gift  of  faith,  which  will  cany 


ohkist's  sufferings  for  man's  sin.  867 

you  througli  all  temptations  and  aflSictions,  yea,  even  through  the  shadow 
of  death  ;  as  David  saith,  '  Though  I  walk  in  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of 
death,  yet  will  I  fear  no  ill,'  Ps.  rsiii.  4.  Why  ?  Because  thou  art  with 
me,  my  God  and  my  shepherd.  Though  we  be  in  the  valley  of  the  shadow 
of  death,  yet  notwithstanding,  if  God  be  with  us,  if  we  be  in  covenant  with 
him,  and  can  lay  just  claim  to  his  promise,  by  giving  up  ourselves  to  him, 
we  shall  not  fear.  One  beam  of  God's  countenance,  when  we  are  in  cove- 
nant with  him,  will  scatter  aU  clouds  whatsoever.  I  beseech  you,  there- 
fore, labour  more  and  more  for  this  precious  grace  of  faith,  and  increase  it 
by  all  sanctified  means,  hearing  the  word,  reading  the  Scriptures,  and 
treasuring  up  promises,  considering  what  special  use  we  have  of  this  above 
all  other  graces.     But  to  proceed. 

Christ  here  doth  not  only  believe,  but 

4.  He  vents  his  faith  hy  prayer. 

Good  works  are  but  faith  incarnate,  faith  working.  They  differ  not  much 
from  it.  So  prayer  is  but  faith  flaming,  the  breath  of  faith,  as  it  were.  For 
when  troubles  possess  the  soul,  it  sends  out  its  ambassador  presently,  it 
speeds  prayer  forth,  and  prayer  stays  not  till  it  come  to  heaven,  and  there 
takes  hold  upon  God,  and  gets  a  message  and  answer  from  him  back,  to 
comfort  the  soul.  Faith  and  prayer  are  all  one  in  a  manner.  When  the  soul 
hath  any  great  desire  of  grace,  or  is  in  grief,  apprehending  the  displeasure 
of  God,  faith  would,  if  it  could,  work  to  heaven  ;  but  we  are  on  earth,  and 
cannot  till  we  die.  Therefore  when  it  cannot  go  to  heaven,  it  sends  prayer, 
and  that  mounts  the  soul  aloft,  and  wrestles  with  God,  and  will  give  him 
no  rest  till  the  petition  be  granted,  and  it  can  say.  My  God. 

Therefore,  if  you  have  any  faith  at  aU,  exercise  it,  and  make  it  bright  by 
often  prayer :  *  The  prayer  of  faith  prevails  much,'  James  v.  15.  How 
shall  they  call  on  him  in  whom  they  have  not  believed  ?  Indeed  it  is  no 
prayer  at  all  without  faith;  great  faith,  great  prayer;  weak  faith,  weak 
prayer ;  no  faith,  no  prayer :  they  both  go  on  in  an  even  strength.  Christ 
here  prays  to  God  under  this  complaint.  Why  hast  thou  forsaken  me?  There 
is  a  hidden  prayer  in  it.  Oh  do  not  forsake  me,  deliver  me  out,  &c. 

I  beseech  you,  even  as  you  would  have  comfort  from  the  fountain  of 
comfort,  that  usually  conveys  all  grace  and  comfort  to  us  by  a  spirit  of 
prayer,  labour  to  be  much  in  communion  with  God  in  this  blessed  exercise, 
especially  in  troubles :  *  Call  upon  me  in  the  day  of  trouble,'  Ps.  1.  15. 
The  evil  day  is  a  day  of  prayer ;  of  all  days,  in  the  day  of  trouble  especially, 
'  make  your  request  known  to  God,'  Phil,  iv.  6. 

Ohj.  But  perhaps  God  will  not  hear  me. 

Ans.  Yes,  this  fruit  follows  :  *  The  peace  of  God  which  passeth  all  under- 
standing shall  keep  your  hearts  and  minds,'  Philip,  iv.  7.  When  you  have 
eased  your  souls  into  the  bosom  of  God  by  prayer,  you  may  go  securely,  and 
know  that  he  will  let  you  reap  the  fruit  of  your  prayers  in  the  best  time. 

Oly.  Yea,  but  I  have  prayed  long,  and  have  had  no  answer. 
^  Ans.  Wait  in  prayer;  God's  time  is  the  best  time.  The  physician  keeps 
his  own  time ;  he  turns  the  glass,*  and  though  the  patient  cry  out  that  he 
torments  him,  it  is  no  matter,  he  knows  his  time.  The  goldsmith  will  not 
take  the  metal  out  of  the  fire  till  it  be  refined.  So  God  knows  what  to  do; 
wait  his  good  leisure.  In  the  mean  time,  because  we  must  have  all  from 
God  by  prayer,  I  beseech  you,  derive  all  from  him  this  way ;  pray  for 
evreything,  and  then  we  shall  have  it  as  a  blessing  indeed. 

*  The  allusion  is  to  the  '  hour-glass,'  the  then  common  measure  of  time,  aa  the 
watch  is  now. — G. 


868  ohkist's  sufferings  for  man's  sin. 

Obj.  But  put  the  case  I  cannot  pray,  as  sometimes  we  are  in  such  a  casa 
that  we  cannot  make  a  large  prayer  to  God. 

Ans.  Then  do  as  Christ  did,  cry;  if  thou  canst  not  pray,  groan  and 
sigh,  for  they  are  the  groans  and  the  sighs  of  God's  Spirit  in  thee.  There 
is  a  great  deal  of  oratory  in  these  words.  What  is  the  use  of  eloquence 
but  to  persuade  ?  and  what  could  persuade  God  more  than  when  Christ 
shewed  how  he  esteemed  his  love,  and  how  he  was  now,  in  the  absence  of 
it,  environed  with  grief  before  him  ?  Here  was  rhetoric.  If  Christ  had 
not  spoken,  his  wounds  had  said  enough,  and  his  pitiful  case  spake  suf- 
ficiently. Everything  hath  a  voice  to  cry  for  mercy.  But  he  adds  his 
voice  to  all,  and  cries  vocally  aloud,  '  My  God,  my  God,  why  hast  thou 
forsaken  me  ? ' 

Beloved,  if  you  acquaint  yourselves  with  God  in  prayer,  then  you  may 
go  readily  to  him  in  any  extremity.  Therefore,  in  time  of  health  and  pros- 
perity, cherish  communion  with  his  blessed  Majesty,  make  him  your  friend; 
and  upon  every  good  occasion  improve  this  plea,  0  my  God.  If  we  have 
riches,  if  we  have  a  friend  in  the  court,  we  will  improve  them ;  if  we  have 
anything,  we  will  make  use  of  it.  Have  we  a  God,  and  will  we  not  improve 
him  ?  Have  we  a  God  that  is  our  God,  and  do  we  want  grace  ?  Do  we 
want  comfort,  and  strength,  and  assistance,  and  have  we  a  God,  the  fountain 
of  all,  to  go  to  ?  Shall  we  have  such  a  prerogative  as  this,  to  have  Jesus 
Christ  to  be  our  great  peacemaker,  that  we  may  go  boldly  to  the  throne  of 
grace  through  him,  and  shall  wo  not  improve  the  same  ?  We  may  go 
boldly  to  God,  and  welcome,  because  God  is  infinite,  and  the  more  we  go 
and  beg,  the  more  he  gives.  We  cannot  exhaust  that  fountain.  0  let  us 
improve  this  blessed  prerogative ;  then  we  shall  live  the  life  of  heaven  upon 
earth.  Especially  when  the  conscience  is  troubled  with  sin,  as  Christ  was 
now  with  the  displeasure  of  his  Father,  then  let  us  go  to  God,  and  plead 
with  his  Majesty,  and  we  may  plead  lawfully  with  him — Lord,  thy  justice 
is  better  satisfied  in  Christ,  than  if  thou  shouldst  send  me  to  hell ;  if  thou 
wilt,  thou  mayest  destroy  me  (for  conscience  must  come  to  a  great  resigna- 
tion ;  it  cannot  desire  mercy,  but  it  must  see  its  own  misery) ;  Lord,  thou 
mayest  justly  call  me  to  hell,  but  it  would  not  be  so  much  for  thy  glory ; 
thou  art  more  glorious  in  satisfying  thy  justice  in  Christ,  than  if  thou 
shouldst  damn  me  to  heU.  Why  ?  Because  God's  justice  is  better  satis- 
fied in  Christ.  Man  sinned,  but  God-man  satisfied  for  sin  ;  man  would  be 
like  God  in  pride,  God  becomes  man  in  humility.  The  expiation  of  God  is 
greater  than  the  sin  of  man.  He  prayed  for  his  persecutors,  and  gave  his 
life  for  them.  Doth  not  this  proportion  more  the  justice  of  God  than  the 
sin  of  man  ?  The  law  doth  but  require  a  nocent  person,  a  guilty  person  to 
sufier.  Christ  was  innocent.  The  law  requires  that  man  should  sufier. 
Christ  was  God.  Therefore  Christ  hath  done  more  than  satisfied  the  law. 
The  satisfaction  of  Christ  is  more  than  if  we  had  sufiered.  We  are  poor 
men, — creatures.  That  was  the  satisfaction  of  God-man.  Our  sins  are  the 
sins  of  finite  persons,  but  he  is  infinite.  Therefore,  the  soul  may  plead, 
Lord,  I  am  a  wretched  sinner,  but  I  should  take  away  thee,  and  take  away 
Christ,  if  I  should  despair ;  I  should  make  thee  no  God,  and  make  Christ 
no  Christ,  if  I  should  not  accept  of  mercy ;  for  Christ  is  given  to  me,  and  I 
labour  to  make  him  mine  own,  by  laying  hold  of  him.  Faith  hath  a  power 
to  make  everything  its  own  that  it  toucheth ;  particular  faith  (which  is  the 
only  true  comfortable  faith)  makes  general  things  mine.  Wben  the  soul 
can  lay  a  particular  claim  to  God  as  his  God,  by  giving  himself  to  him  only, 
then  we  may  plead  in  Christ  better  satisfaction  to  God's  justice,  than  if  he 


Christ's  suffeeings  fob  man's  sin.  369 

should  cast  us  into  hell.  What  a  stay  is  this  for  a  distressed  soul  to  make 
use  of ! 

Beloved,  the  church  of  God,  the  mystical  body  of  Christ,  is  thus  forsaken 
in  other  countries,  besides  many  particular  humble,  broken-hearted  Chris- 
tians at  home,  who  find  no  beams  of  God's  love  and  mercy.  What  shall 
we  do  ?  Let  the  body  imitate  the  head,  even  go  to  God  in  their  behalf, 
and  pour  out  your  complaints  before  him :  Lord,  where  are  thy  mercies  of 
old  ?  where  are  thy  ancient  bowels  to  thy  church  ?  why  should  the  enemy 
triumph,  &c.  God  delights  when  we  lay  open  the  miseries  of  his  people, 
and  our  own  particular  grievances  before  him.  If  there  be  a  spirit  of  faith 
in  it,  oh !  it  works  upon  his  bowels.  If  a  child  can  but  say,  0  father,  0 
mother  !  though  he  can  say  not  a  word  more,  the  bowels  are  touched,  there 
is  eloquence  enough ;  so  when  we  can  lay  open  the  pitiful  state  of  God's  poor 
church,  what  a  blessing  may  we  obtain  for  them  ?  It  is  thy  church.  Lord, 
thine  own  people,  thy  name  is  called  upon  them,  and  they  caU  upon  thy 
name  ;  though  they  have  sinned,  yet  thou  deservest  to  be  like  thyself,  and 
Christ  hath  deserved  mercy  for  them.  Thus,  if  we  contend  with  God,  and 
keep  not  silence,  and  give  God  no  rest,  faith  would  work  wonders.  The 
state  of  the  church  would  not  be  long  as  it  is,  if  we  would  all  improve  our 
interest  in  heaven  in  their  behalf.  Beloved,  Christ  struggled  with  the 
powers  of  darkness  and  the  wrath  of  his  Father  a  while,  but  presently  after, 
all  was  finished ;  so  let  us  contend  boldly,  '  Fight  the  good  fight  of  faith,' 
2  Tim.  iv.  7,  and  not  yield  to  desperate  suggestions.  Let  faith  stir  up 
prayer,  and  prayer  go  to  God ;  and  ere  long  it  shall  be  said  of  the  church, 
and  of  all  particular  troubles,  All  is  finished.  Then  we  shall  enjoy  the 
sweet  prssence  of  God,  '  wliere  is  fulness  of  joy,'  Ps.  xvi.  11,  r.n  1  that /or 
evermore.  The  presence  of  God  is  that  the  child  of  God  desires  above  all 
things  in  the  world ;  it  quickens  and  strengthens  him  ;  it  puts  zeal  and  fire 
into  him ;  it  doth  all.  What  will  not  the  presence  of  God  do  when  a  man 
enjoys  his  face  ?  Therefore,  let  us  be  content  to  conflict  here,  to  be  exer- 
cised a  while  in  faith  and  prayer.  We  shall  surely  say  ere  long,  '  I  have 
finished  my  course,  I  have  kept  the  faith ;  henceforth  is  laid  up  for  me  a 
crown  of  righteousness,'  2  Tim.  iv.  8. 

I  beseech  you  learn  these  lessons  and  instructions  from  our  blessed 
Saviour.  We  cannot  have  a  better  pattern  than  to  be  like  him,  by  whom 
we  all  hope  to  be  saved  another  day.     So  much  for  this  time. 


NOTE. 


Page  362,  line  3d  from  top,  '  As  Leo  saith,'  &c.  The  reference  (rather  than  quo- 
tation) is  to  Leo,  Serm.  64,  De  Passione  Domini,  13,  wherein  occurs  the  following  : 
— '  Singulares  quippe  in  singulis  mortes  fuerunt,  nee  alterius  quisquam  debitum 
suo  fine  persolvit,  cum  inter  filios  hominum  unus  solus  Dominus  Noster  Jesus 
extiterit  in  quo  omnes  crucifixi,  omnes  mortui,  omnes  sepulti,  omnes  etiam  sint 
suscitati.'  Qt. 


VOL.  I.  4  a 


THE  CHURCH'S  VISITATION. 


THE  CHURCH'S  VISITATION. 


NOTE. 

'  The  Church's  Visitation  '  forms  a  treatise  expository  of  1  Pet.  iv.  17-19,  in  four 
separate  but  related  discourses.  The  original  title-page  is  given  below.*  It  makes 
the  '  second  part '  of  the  volume  described  at  page  296.  These  four  sermons  were 
reprinted  in  the  '  Saints  Cordials'  (2d  ed.  1637,  3d  ed.  1658),  where  they  are  nam- 
bered  as  12th  to  15th.— G. 


*  Title-page — 


THE 

CHVRCHES 

VISITATION  : 

DISCOVERING 

The  many  difficulties  and  tryalls  of 

Gods  Saints  on  earth  : 
Shewing  wherein  the  fountaine  of 

their  happinesse  consists : 
Arming  Christians  how  to  doe,  and 

suffer  for  Christ  ; 

And  directing  them  how  to  commit 

themselves,  and  all  their  wayes  to 

God  in  holinesse  here,  and 

happinesse  hereafter. 

Preached  in  sundry  Sermons  at  Grayes^ 
Inne,  LoKdon, 

By  R.  S.  D.D. 

LONDON, 
Printed  by  M.  F.  for  R.  Dawlman,  at  the 
Brazen  Serpent  in  Pauls  Church- 
yard.   1634. 


THE  CHURCH'S  VISITATION. 


SERMON  I. 


For  the  time  is  come  that  judgment  must  begin  at  the  house  of  God,  and  ij  it 
begin  at  m,  what  shall  the  end  be  of  them  that  obey  not  the  gospel?  dc. — 
1  Pet.  IV.  17,  18,  19. 

Our  nature,  as  it  is  very  backward  to  do  good,  so  likewise  to  suffer  evil ;  there- 
fore the  blessed  apostle  exhorts  us  at  the  latter  end  of  this  chapter,  '  not  to 
think  it  strange  concerning  the  fiery  trial,  but  to  rejoice,  inasmuch  as  we  are 
made  partakers  of  Christ's  sufferings  ;  wherein  are  many  grounds  of  patience 
and  comfort  to  the  children  of  God. 

(1.)  That  the  thought  of  troubles  should  not  be  strange  but  familiar  to 
them.  Acquainting  our  thoughts  with  them,  taketh  away  offence  at  them ; 
though  it  be  o.  fiery  trial,  yet  it  shall  consume  nothing  but  dross. 

(2.)  Then  Christ  joineth  with  us  in  suffering.  Better  to  be  in  trouble  with 
Christ,  than  in  peace  without  him. 

(3.)  The  issue  will  be  glorious ;  for  the  Spirit  of  glory  will  not  only  sup- 
port us  with  his  presence,  but  rest  still  upon  us. 

To  other  grounds  of  comfort,  he  addeth  some  in  the  words  of  my  text,  as, 

1.  First,  that  the  church  is  God's  house,  and  therefore  he  wiU  have  a  care 
of  it. 

2.  That  he  will  do  it  in  the  fittest  season.  Such  is  the  exigence  of  the 
church  and  people  of  God,  that  they  require  a  sharp  visitation  ;  and,  there- 
fore, such  is  God's  love,  that  he  appoints  out  a  certain  time  for  them. 

3.  From  the  different  conditions  of  the  godly  and  ungodly  in  suffering ; 
both  suffer,  but  differ  much  ;  (1)  in  order,  God  begins  uith  his  own  house; 
(2)  in  measure,  where  shall  the  ungodly  appear  ?  Their  judgment  shall  be 
most  terrible  and  certain.  It  is  set  down  by  way  of  inten-ogation  and 
admiration ;  what  shall  their  end  be  ?  And  as  Pharaoh's  dreams  were 
doubled  for  more  certainty,  so  here  is  a  double  question  to  make  the  matter 
more  out  of  question,  [1]  what  shall  then-  end  be  that  obey  not  the  gospel? 
[2]  where  shaU  the  ungodly  and  sinners  appear  ? 

Here  is  no  unnecessary  waste  of  words  and  arguments,  for  the  Spii'it  of 
God  knows  that  all  is  little  enough  to  fortify  the  soul  against  the  evil  day. 
Unless  the  soul  be  well  balanced,  it  wiU  soon  be  overturned  when  storms 
arise.     Therefore,  the  apostle  in  these  three  verses  sets  down,  1,  some 


374  THE  CHtJKCH  S  VISITATION. 

foundations  of  comfort;  and,  2,  an  encouragement  to  build  upon  them, 
'  wherefore  let  them  that  suffer,'  &c. 
■  The  points  considerable  in  the  17th  verse  are  these : — 

1.  That  God's  church  is  his  house. 

2.  That  this  house  of  his  will  need  purging ;  it  will  gather  soil. 

3.  When  God  sees  the  exigent  of  it,  that  it  must  be  so,  he  will  be  sure  to  visit 
and  judge  his  own  house. 

4.  That  there  is  a  certain  time  when  he  will  do  it,  which  those  that  are  wise 
maxj  easily  gather.  For  God  comes  not  upon  his  church  on  the  sudden,  as 
a  storm,  or  tempest,  &c.,  but  he  gives  them  fair  warning.  There  is  a  season 
when  God  begins  judgment  with  his  own  house. 

5.  Lastly,  Why  God  begins  with  his  own  church  and  'people. 
Of  these  in  order. 

Ohs.  1.  That  the  Chicrch  of  God  is  his  own  house.  First,  The  Church  of 
God  is  God's  house.  God  hath  two  houses,  the  heavetu,  which  are  called  his 
house,  because  he  manifests  his  glory  there,  and  the  church  here  below, 
wherein  he  manifests  his  grace.  Yea,  the  whole  world,  in  a  sort,  is  his 
house,  because  he  manifests  his  power  and  wisdom  in  it ;  but  heaven  and 
his  church,  in  a  more  peculiar  manner ;  and  that  in  these  respects  : 

(1.^  Because  God  by  his  grace  hath  residence  in  his  church. 

(2.)  Because  by  the  means  of  salvation, — the  ivord,  and  sacraments  there 
administered, — he  dioih.  feed  his  church,  as  in  a  house. 

(3.)  A  man  rests  and  takes  contentment  in  his  house;  so  God  takes  his  best 
contentment  in  his  church  and  people ;  they  are  the  most  beloved  of  all 
mankind. 

(4.)  As  in  a  house  we  use  to  lay  up  our  jewels  and  precious  things ;  so 
God  lays  up  in  his  church  whatsoever  is  precious, — his  praises,  his  graces, 
yea,  whatsoever  is  good  and  of  high  esteem,  that  he  bestows  upon  his 
church  and  people. 

For  the  further  clearing  of  this,  we  must  know  that  the  church  and  chil- 
dren of  God  are  said  to  be  his  house,  either, 

[1.]  As  a,  family  is  said  to  be  a  house  ;  or, 

[2.]  As  the  fabiic  or  building  is  said  to  be  the  house. 

God  provides  for  his  church  as  his  own  house.  First,  a  man  provides  for 
his  family,  and  he  that  neglects  it,  is  worse  than  an  infidel,  1  Tim.  v.  8;  so 
doth  God  provide  for  his  church.  The  very  dragons  and  ostriches,  the  worst 
of  the  creatures,  all  have  some  respect  to  their  young  ones ;  much  more  will 
God  provide  for  his  own.  And  as  a  man  protects  his  house  from  aU  enemies, 
so  will  God  protect  his  church  and  people,  and  be  a  ivall  of  fire,  and  a  defence 
round  about  them. 

Now  there  is  a  mixture  in  the  church,  as  in  a  house,  of  good  and  bad 
vessels ;  but  the  godly  are  especially  God's  house.  As  for  hypocrites  and 
false  professors,  they  are  no  more  in  the  house,  than  the  excrements  are  in 
the  body ;  they  are  in  the  body,  but  not  of  the  body  ;  and  therefore,  as 
Ishmael,  Gen.  xxi.  10,  they  must  be  cast  out  at  length. 

The  heart  of  true  Christians  is  God's  private  closet.  And  as  in  every  house 
or  building,  there  are  some  open  places,  and  some  private  closets,  &c.,  so 
is  it  here.  God  hath  his  private  chamber,  and  his  retiring-place,  which  is  the 
heart  of  every  true  Christian.  He  counts  it  not  sufficient  to  dwell  in  his 
house  at  large,  but  he  will  dwell  in  the  best  part  of  it,  the  heart  and  the 
afiections.  Therefore  '  he  knocks  at  the  doors  of  our  hearts  for  entrance,' 
Eev.  iii.  20,  and  his  best  children  are  glad  he  wUl  reside  in  them.  They 
Bet  him  up  in  the  highest  place  of  their  souls,  and  set  a  crown  upon  him  ; 


THE  CHURCH  S  VISITATION.  875 

their  desire  is,  that  God  may  govern  and  rule  their  whole  conversation ; 
they  have  no  idol  above  God  in  their  hearts. 

Usel.  What  a  wonderful  mercy  is  this,  that  we  are  God's  house;  that  he 
will  vouchsafe  to  dweU  and  take  up  his  lodging  in  such  defiled  houses  as 
oui-  souls  are.  It  is  no  mean  favour,  that  God  should  single  out  us  poor 
wretches,  to  have  his  residence  and  abiding  place  in  our  souls,  considering 
there  is  so  much  wickedness  in  the  hearts  of  the  best  of  us. 

Oh  what  comfort  ariseth  to  a  Christian  soul  from  the  due  meditation  of 
this  point.  _  If  we  are  God's  house,  then  God  will  be  our  house  ;  '  Thou 
art  our  habitation,'  saith  Mofies,  '  from  generation  to  generation,'  Ps.  xc.  1, 
Howsoever  we  shuffle  in  the  world,  now  here  and  now  there,  having  no  cer- 
tain place  of  abode,  but  are  here  to  day,  and  gone  to-morrow,  yet  in  God 
we  have  an  house,  '  Thou  art  our  habitation  ;'  he  is  ours,  and  we  are  his. 
And  what  a  comfort  is  this  that  we  are  God's  house.  Certainly  God  will 
provide  for  his  own  house.  He  that  lays  this  charge  upon  others,  and  hath 
put  that  affection  and  care  of  provision  into  others  for  their  families,  will 
he  neglect  his  own  ?  he  that  makes  us  love,  and  puts  that  natural  affection 
into  us  of  those  that  belong  unto  us,  hath  he  not  infinitely  more  in  him- 
self? whenas  that  which  we  have,  is  but  a  beam  or  ray  from  his  infinite 
brightness. 

Use  2.  This  should  then,  instruct  us  to  labour  that  God  may  dwell  largely 
and  comfortably  in  us,  to  deliver  up  all  to  this  keeper  of  our  house,  and 
suffer  him  to  rule  and  reign  in  us.  The  Romish  Church  is  become  the 
habitation  of  devils  ;  that  which  was  Bethel,  is  now  become  Bethaven  (a). 
Why  ?  because  they  would  not  suffer  God  to  rule  in  his  own  house  but 
would  have  coadjutors  with  Christ,  as  if  he  were  not  a  sufficient  head  of  the 
church  to  govern  it,  but  he  must  have  a  vicar,  the  pope ;  who,  as  if  Christ 
were  took  *  weak,  will  not  suffer  him  to  exercise  his  kingly  office,  unless  he 
may  support  and  help  him.  Thus  they  set  up  the  abomination  of  desolation 
m  the  temple  of  God. 

0  beloved,  it  much  concerns  us  to  cleanse  and  purify  our  hearts,  that  so 
we  may  entertam  Christ,  and  he  may  delight  to  abide  and  dwell  with  us. 
you  know  how  hemously  he  took  it,  when  his  house  was  made  a  den  of 

^'^""SV  ^'  ^^'  ^""^  "^  ^^  ""^^  *^^^  ^*  ^^^^  ^o^se  that  our  hearts 

should  be  made  the  veiy  sinks  and  cages  of  all  manner  of  uncleanness  '> 

How  should  we  beg  and  cry  to  God  that  he  would  whip  out  these  noi- 
some lusts  and  corruptions  out  of  the  temple  of  our  hearts  by  any  sharp 
correction  or  terror  of  conscience  whatsoever,  rather  than  suffer  them  to 
reside  there,  still  to  grieve  his  good  Spirit.  We  should  take  a  holy  state 
upon  us,  as  bemg  temples  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  therefore  too  good  to  be 
defiled  with  sm.  Our  hearts  should  be  as  the  holy  of  holies ;  and  there- 
tore_ the  apostle  exhorts  us  'to  abstain  from  all  filthiness  both  of  flesh  and 
spirit,  for  this  cause,  '  that  God  may  dwell  amongst  us,'  2  Cor.  vii.  1 ; 
for,  '  what  communion  hath  light  with  darkness  ?'  2  Cor.  vi.  14. 

U^l  S- >re  God's  people  his  house  ?  Then  let  the  enemies  of  the  church 
take  heed  how  they  deal  with  them,  for  God  will  have  a  special  care  of  his 
own  house.  Howsoever  he  may  seem  for  a  time  to  neglect  his  children, 
yet  remember  this,  they  are  his  house  still ;  and  no  ordinary  house,  but  a 
temple,  wherem  sacrifice  is  offered  to  him  continually ;  and  '  he  that  de- 
Btroyeth  the  temple  of  God,  him  will  God  destroy,'  1  Cor.  iii.  17. 

Quest.  Here  a  question  would  be  answered,  which  some  uncharitable  snirits 
make,  and  that  is  this,  Whether  England  be  the  house  of  God,  or  no  ? 

*  Qu.  '  too  ?  '—Ed. 


876  THE  church's  visitation. 

Ans.  That  the  Church  of  England  is  God's  house.  I  answer :  the  whole 
catholic  militant  church  is  but  one  house  of  God,  though  there  be  divers 
branches  of  the  same.  As  there  is  but  one  main  ocean  of  the  sea,  yet  as 
it  washeth  upon  the  British  coast  it  is  called  the  British  sea ;  and  as  it 
washeth  on  the  Germans,  the  German  sea,  &c.  It  hath  divers  names  of 
the  divers  countries  which  it  passeth  through,  nevertheless  there  is  still 
but  one  main  sea ;  so  it  is  with  the  house  of  God.  God  hath  but  one  true 
chm"ch  in  the  whole  world,  which  spreads  itself  into  divers  nations  and 
coimtries  upon  the  face  of  the  earth ;  one  branch  whereof  is  among  us  at 
this  day. 

Quest.  How  prove  you  that  ? 

Ans.  Doth  not  Christ  dwell  amongst  us  by  his  ordinances,  and  by  his 
Spirit  working  effectually  in  the  same  ?  If  a  house  be  not  in  perfect 
repair,  is  it  not  still  a  house  ?  I  beseech  you,  let  us  rather  give  God  cause 
to  delight  to  dwell  within  us,  than  call  in  question  whether  he  dwelleth 
amongst  us  or  no. 

Obs.  2.  That  the  house  of  God  needs  visiting  and  purging,  and  the  reasons 
of  it.  But  to  proceed.  Hence  further  we  see  that  the  house  of  God  after 
some  time  will  need  visiting  and  purging,  seeing  it  will  soon  gather  soil. 
There  will  abuses  and  disorders  creep  into  it,  so  that  it  will  need  refor- 
mation. And  this  the  apostle  seems  to  insinuate  when  he  saith,  *  The 
time  is  come  that  judgment  must  begin  at  the  house  of  God.'  The  Lord 
saw  cause  for  what  he  did.     For, 

1.  First,— Such  is  the  weakness  of  man's  nature,  that  evil  things 
soon  discourage  us ;  and  good  things,  except  we  wrestle  with  our  spirits, 
prove  a  snare  to  the  best.  Even  the  church  of  God,  after  a  long  time  of 
peace,  is  apt  to  gather  corruption,  as  water  doth  by  standing,  and  as  the 
air  itself  will  do  if  it  have  not  the  wind  to  purge  it.  And  as  it  is  in  the 
bodies  of  men,  if  they  be  not  curiously  looked  unto ;  after  a  certain  time,  they 
will  gather  such  a  burden  of  humours  as  will  rise  to  a  distemper,  so  that 
they  must  be  let  blood  or  purged,  &c.,  so  it  is  with  the  chm'ch  of  God. 
Such  is  the  infii-mity  of  man's  nature  and  the  malice  of  Satan,  that  enemy 
to  mankind,  that  the  best  of  God's  people  will  quickly  gather  some  dis- 
temper or  other,  and  stand  in  need  of  purging.  You  know  a  house  will 
gather  dust  of  itself,  though  clean  at  the  first. 

2.  Most  certain  it  is  that  the  church  of  God  cannot  be  long  with- 
out some  afiliction,  considering  that  it  is  now  in  a  state  of  pilgrimage, 
absent  from  God,  in  another  world  as  it  were.  We  live  in  a  gross,  cor- 
rupt air,  and  draw  in  the  corruption  of  the  times,  one  defiling  another. 
'  I  am  a  man  of  polluted  lips,'  saith  Isaiah,  '  and  dwell  with  men  of 
polluted  lips,'  Isaiah  vi.  5  ;   ill  neighbours  made  him  the  worse. 

Use.  This  should  stir  us  up  to  lament  the  miserable  estate  of  man's  nature, 
that  even  the  best  of  men,  the  chm-ch  and  people  of  God,  whilst  they  re- 
main in  this  world,  stand  in  need  of  continual  purging  and  winnowing. 
Crosses  are  as  necessary  to  us  as  our  daily  bread,  because  we  carry  that 
about  us  which  wants  them.  We  are  as  much  beholden  to  God's  correc- 
tions as  to  his  comforts,  in  this  world.  The  church  needs  keeping  under, 
for  the  most  part.  God  will  not  have  us  settle  upon  our  dregs,  Ps.  Iv.  19 ; 
Jer.  xlviii.  11.  This  should  teach  us  to  bewail  our  condition,  and  to  de- 
sire to  be  at  home,  where  we  shall  need  no  purging,  where  we  shall  be  as 
free  from  sorrow  as  from  sin,  the  cause  of  it. 

Obs.  3.  That  God  will  come  to  visit  and  purge  his  house  when  need  is. 
Observe  we  farther,  that  as  the  church  will  stand  in  need  of  chastisements,  so 


THE  CHTJROH  S  VISITATION. 


377 


God  will  come  and  visit  his  temj^le  when  need  is,  and  but  when  need  requires 
neither  ;*  for  God  is  no  tyrant,  yet  he  will  shew  that  he  hates  sin  whereso- 
ever he  finds  it,  even  in  his  own  dear  children  and  servants,  Amos  iii.  2. 

If  God  should  bear  with  the  abuses  and  sins  of  his  own  church  and  peo- 
ple, it  would  seem  that  sin  was  not  so  contrary  to  his  holy  disposition  as  it 
is.  Therefore,  in  whomsoever  he  finds  sin,  he  will  punish  it.  Our  blessed 
Saviour  found  this  true,  when  he  took  upon  him  the  imputation  of  our  sins, 
and  became  but  only  a  surety  for  us.  You  see  how  it  made  him  cry  out, 
•  My  God,  my  God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  ? '  Mat.  xxvii.  46.  Those 
glorious  creatures,  the  very  angels  themselves,  when  they  kept  not  their  own 
standing,  God  would  endure  them  no  longer,  but  thrust  them  out  of  heaven. 

Obj.  But  why  doth  God  chiefly  afflict  his  own  people  more  than  others  ? 

Ans.  1.  Why  God  afflicts  his  own  people  before  others.  Because  they  are 
of  his  own  family,  and  are  called  by  his  name,  Num.  vi.  27.  Now  the  dis- 
orders of  the  family  tend  to  the  disgrace  of  the  governor  of  it.  The 
sins  of  the  church  touch  God  more  nearly  than  others,  and  therefore  'judg- 
ments must  begin  at  the  sanctuary  first,'  Ezek.  iv.  6.  'I  will  be  sanctified 
in  all  that  come  near  me,'  saith  God  when  he  smote  Aaron's  sons.  Lev. 
X.  3.  The  nearer  we  come  to  God,  if  we  maintain  not  the  dignity  of  our 
profession,  undoubtedly  the  more  near  will  God  come  to  us  in  judgment. 
We  see  the  angels,  who  came  nearest  to  God  of  all  others,  when  once  they 
sinned  against  him,  they  were  tumbled  out  of  heaven,  and  cast  into  the 
bottomless  pit.     Heaven  could  then  brook  them  no  longer. 

2.  Beloved,  the  gospel  suffers  much  through  the  sides  of  professors. 
What  saith  the  wicked  worldling  ?  These  be  your  professors  !  See  what 
manner  of  lives  they  lead  !  what  little  conscience  they  make  of  their  ways ! 
&c.  Little  do  men  know  how  much  religion  is  vilified,  and  the  ways  of 
God  evil  spoken  of,  through  the  loose  carriage  of  professors  of  the  gospel, 
as  if  there  were  no  force  in  the  grace  and  favour  of  God  to  make  us  love 
and  obey  him  in  all  things ;  as  if  religion  consisted  in  word  only,  and  not 
in  power.  What  a  scandal  is  this  to  the  cause  of  Christ !  It  is  no  marvel 
God  begins  with  them  first.  '  You  have  I  known  above  all  the  families  of 
the  earth,  and  therefore  will  I  punish  you,'  Amos  iii.  2,  A  man  may  see 
and  pass  by  dirt  in  his  grounds,  but  he  will  not  sufier  it  in  his  dining  cham- 
ber ;  he  will  not  endm-e  dust  to  be  in  his  parlour. 

3.  The  sins  of  the  godly  more  heinous  than  others.  The  sins  of  God's 
house  admit  of  a  greater  aggravation  than  the  sins  of  others ;  for,  (1)  they 
are  committed  against  more  light ;  (2)  against  more  benefits  and  favours ; 
(3)  their  sins  in  a  manner  are  sacrilege.  What !  to  make  '  the  temple  of 
God  a  den  of  thieves,'  to  defile  their  bodies  and  souls,  that  are  bought  with  the 
precious  blood  of  Jesus  Christ,  is  this  a  small  matter  ?  Again,  (4)  their 
sins  are  idolatry ;  for  they  are  not  only  the  house  of  God,  but  \hQ  spouse  of  God. 

Now,  for  a  spouse  to  be  false  and  adulterous,  this  is  greater  than  forni- 
cation, because  the  bond  is  nearer;  so  the  nearer  any  come  to  God  in  pro- 
fession, the  higher  is  the  aggravation  of  their  sin,  and  as  their  sin  grows, 
so  must  their  punishment  grow  answerable  and  proportionable.  They, 
therefore  that  know  God's  will  most  of  aU  others,  must  look  for  most  stripes 
if  they  do  it  not,  Luke  xii.  47,  48. 

Use  1.  No  iwivilege  can  exempt  us  from  God's  judgment.  Hence,  there- 
fore, learn  that  no  privilege  can  exempt  us  from  God's  judgments,  nay, 
rather  the  contrary.  Where  God  doth  magnify  his  rich  goodness  and  mercy 
to  a  people,  and  is,  notwithstanding,  dishonoured  by  them,  he  will  at  last, 

*  That  is,  '  Ho  will  neither  visit  nor  purge  it,  except  when  need  requires.' — Ed. 


878  THE  chuech's  visitation. 

magnify  his  righteous  justice  in  correcting  such  disobedient  wretches. 
Some  of  the  fathers  (Augustine,  Salvianus)  were  forced  to  justify  God  in 
•visiting  his  church  more  sharpfy  than  other  people,  because  Christians  are 
60  much  worse  than  others,  by  how  much  they  should  be  better.  Their 
sins  open  the  mouths  of  others  to  blaspheme.  We  should  not  bear  out  our- 
selves on  this,  that  we  are  God's  house,  but  fear  so  much  the  more  to  offend 
him,  else  all  our  privileges  will  but  increase  our  guilt,  not  our  comfort. 

Use  2.  Secondly,  if  God  begins  with  his  own  house,  let  the  church  be 
severe  in  punishing  sin  there  most  of  aU ;  because  God's  wrath  will  break 
out  first  there.  What  a  shame  is  it  that  the  heathen  should  make  such 
sharp  laws  against  adultery  and  other  sins,  and  we  let  them  pass  with  a 
slight  or  no  punishment  at  all !  No  doubt  but  God  blesseth  a  State  most, 
when  sin  is  discountenanced  and  condemned  most ;  for  then  it  is  the  State's 
sin  no  longer,  but  Ueth  upon  particular  offenders.     But  I  hasten. 

Obs.  4.  God  appoints  a  p)articular  time  for  his  visitation.  As  God  wiU 
visit  his  church,  so  there  is  a  certain  time  for  it.  God,  as  he  hath  appointed 
a  general  day  to  judge  the  world  in,  so  he  appoints  particular  times  of  judg- 
ment in  this  life ;  he  is  the  wise  dispenser  of  times.  God  doth  not  always 
whip  his  church,  but  his  ordinary  coui'se  is  to  give  them  some  respite,  as, 
Acts  ix.  31,  after  Paul's  conversion,  the  church  had  joy,  and  grew  in  the 
comforts  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  God  hath  rejoicing  days  for  his  people  as  well 
as  mourning  days ;  fair  weather  as  well  as  foul ;  and  all  to  help  them  forward 
in  the  way  to  heaven.  Beloved,  God  gives  many  happy  and  blessed  times  to 
encourage  weak  ones  at  their  fii'st  coming  on,  that  they  may  the  better  grow 
up  in  goodness,  and  not  be  nipped  in  the  bud ;  but  after  a  certain  time, 
when  through  peace  and  encouragement  they  gi'ow  secure  and  careless,  and 
scandalous  in  their  lives,  then  he  takes  them  in  hand  and  corrects  them. 
God  hath  scouring  days  for  his  vessels. 

Quest.  What  be  those  times  wherein  God  will  visit  his  church  ? 

Ans.  1.  What  be  the  times  of  God's  visitation?  I  answer,  in  general, 
the  time  of  visiting  the  church  of  God  is  from  Abel  to  the  last  man 
that  shaU  be  in  the  earth.  The  church  began  with  blood,  continues 
with  blood,  and  shall  end  with  blood.  The  whole  days  of  the  church  are  a 
time  of  persecution.  '  From  my  youth  upward,'  saith  the  psalmist,  '  1  have 
suffered,'  Ps.  kxxviii.  15.  So  may  the  church  of  God  say,  '  Even  from 
my  cradle,  from  my  infancy,'  I  have  been  afiiicted;  yea,  'for  thy  sake 
we  are  killed  all  the  day  long,  and  counted  as  sheep  for  the  slaughter,'  Ps. 
xUv.  22.     But  this  is  not  here  meant. 

2.  The  church  is  afflicted  when  the  light  of  the  gospel  hath  most  clearly  shined. 
The  time  for  the  church  of  God  to  suffer  is  when  the  glorious  manifestation 
of  the  gospel  is  more  than  in  former  times.  We  see  the  ten  first  persecutions 
were  after  that  general  promulgation  of  the  gospel,  whereby  the  world  was 
more  enlightened  than  formerly  [b).  We  read  in  the  Revelation  of  a  white 
horse  that  Christ  rides  on,  and  a  jmle  horse  of  famine,  and  a  red  horse  of 
persecution  that  followed  after  him,  Eev.  vi.  2,  4,  8.  So  presently  after 
the  preaching  of  the  gospel,  comes  the  fan  and  the  axe,  or  though  not  very 
presently,  yet  after  a  certain  time,  when  our  need  requires  it;  for  God  will 
wait  a  while  to  see  how  we  entertain  his  glorious  gospel,  and  whether  we  walk 
worthy  of  it  or  not. 

3.  That  now  is  the  time  of  the  church's  affliction.  More  particularly,  even 
now  is  the  time  of  Jacob's  trouble ;  even  now  God  hath  put  a  cup  into  the 
church's  hand,  and  it  must  go  round.  The  sword  hath  a  commission  to  de- 
vour, which  is  not  yet  called  in. 


THE  chukoh's  visitation.  879 

Quest.  But  "what  be  the  more  especial  times  wherein  a  man  may  know 
some  judgment  is  like  to  fall  upon  the  church  of  God? 

Ans.  1.  How  we  may  know  when  some  judgment  approacheth.  The  Scrip- 
ture is  wondrous  full  in  the  point.  God  usually,  before  any  heavy  judgment, 
visits  a  people  with  lesser  judgments.  His  footsteps  first  appear  in  some  small 
token  of  his  displeasure ;  but  if  that  prevails  not,  then  he  brings  a  greater. 

Sign  1.  '  This,  and  this  have  I  done,'  saith  the  Lord,  '  and  yet  ye  have 
not  returned  unto  me,'  Amos  iv.  6,  7.  There  be  droppings  before  the  ruin 
of  a  house.  Lesser  judgments  make  way  for  greater,  as  a  little  wedge 
makes  way  for  a  greater;  and,  therefore,  where  less  afflictions  prevail  not, 
there  cannot  but  be  an  expectation  of  greater.  *  Why  should  I  smite  you 
any  more?'  saith  God;  '  you  fall  away  more  and  more,'  Isa.  i.  5;  that  is, 
I  must  have  a  sweeping  judgment  to  carry  you  clean  away. 

Sign  2.  Again,  usually  before  some  great  calamity  God  takes  aivay  worthy 
men,  '  the  councillor,  and  the  captain,  and  the  man  of  war,'  Isa.  iii.  2,  3. 
This  is  is  a  fearful  presage  that  God  threateneth  some  destruction,  for  they 
are  the  pillars  of  the  church  and  the  strength  of  the  world ;  they  are  those 
that  make  the  times  and  places  good  wherein  they  live ;  for  they  keep  away 
evil  and  do  good  by  their  example  and  by  their  prayers  many  ways,  A  good 
man  is  a  common  good.  The  city  thrives  the  better,  as  Solomon  saith, 
for  a  righteous  man,  Prqv.  xi.  10,  11,  Eccles.  ix.  15.  Therefore,  we  have 
cause  to  rejoice  in  them,  and  it  is  an  evil  sign  when  such  are  removed.* 

Sign  3.  God  usually  visits  a  people  when  some  horrible  crying  sins  reign 
amongst  them,  as  (1)  atheism.  Beloved,  God  stands  upon  his  prerogative 
then,  when  he  is  scarce  known  in  the  world ;  when  they  say,  "Where  is  God  ? 
God  sees  us  not,  &c.  So,  likewise  (2),  when  idolatry  prevails.  This  is 
spiritual  adultery  and  a  breach  of  covenant  with  God.  Again  (3),  when 
divisions  grow  amongst  a  people.  Union  is  a  preserver.  AVhere  there  is 
dissension  of  judgment,  there  will  soon  be  dissension  of  aifections ;  and 
dissipation  will  be  the  end  if  we  take  not  heed.  For  the  most  part,  ecclesi- 
astical dissensions  end  in  civil ;  and  therefore  we  see,  before  the  destruction 
of  Jerusalem,  what  a  world  of  schisms  and  divisions  were  amongst  the  Jews. 
There  were  Pharisees  and  Sadducees,  &c.  It  was  the  ruin  of  the  ten  tribes 
at  length,  the  rent  that  Jeroboam  caused  in  religion.  It  is  a  fearful  sign  of 
some  great  judgment  to  fall  upon  a  church,  when  there  is  not  a  stopping  of 
dissensions.  They  may  be  easUy  stopped  at  fijst,  as  waters  ia  the  begin- 
ning ;  but  when  they  are  once  gotten  into  the  very  vital  parts  of  the  church 
and  commonwealth,  we  may  see  the  mischief,  but  it  is  hardly  t  remedied. 

Sign  4.  Again,  u-hen  sin  goes  with  some  evil  circumstances  and  odious  quali- 
ties, which  aggravate  the  same  in  the  sight  of  God,  as  when  sin  grows  ripe,  and 
abounds  in  a  land  or  nation.  At  such  a  time  as  this  a  man  may  know  there 
is  some  fearful  judgment  approaching. 

Quest.  But  when  is  sin  ripe? 

Ans.  1.  When  it  is  impudent;  when  men  grow  bold  in  sin,  making  it 
their  whole  course  and  trade  of  life.  When  men's  wicked  courses  are  their 
•  conversation,'!  they  cannot  tell  how  to  do  otherwise. 

2.  When  sin  gi'ows  common  and  spreads  far.  It  is  an  ill  plea  to  say, 
Others  do  so  as  well  as  I.     Alas !  the  more  sin,  the  more  danger. 

3.  When  there  is  a  security  in  sinning,  without  fear  or  dread  of  the 
Almighty,  as  if  men  would  dare  the  God  of  heaven  to  do  his  worst.     Oh, 

*  Compare  reflections  on  Sibbes's  own  death,  by  Catlin.  Appendix  to  Memoir, 
pp.  cxxxiii-v.— G.  t  That  is,  •  with  difficulty.' — G. 

X  That  is,  '  habitual.'     Compare  2  Peter  ii.  7  ;  1  Peter  i.  15,  et  alibi.— G. 


880  THE  chukch's  visitation. 

beloved,  such  persons  as  go  on  still  in  their  sins  to  provoke  the  Lord,  do 
put  a  sword,  as  it  were,  into  God's  hands  to  destroy  themselves. 

The  old  world,  you  know,  was  very  secure.  No  doubt,  they  mocked  at 
holy  Noah  when  he  made  the  ark,  as  if  he  had  been  a  doting  old  man. 
Notwithstanding,  he  foretold  them  of  the  wrath  to  come.  And  our  Saviour, 
Christ,  saith,  '  Before  the  end  of  the  world  it  shall  be  as  in  the  days  of 
Noah,'  Mat,  xxiv.  38,  Beloved,  God  hath  his  *  old  worlds  '  still.  If  we 
have  the  same  course  and  security  of  sinning,  we  must  look  for  the  same 
judgments.  And,  therefore,  compare  times  with  times.  If  the  times  now 
answer  former  times,  when  God  judged  ttwm,  we  may  well  expect  the 
same  fearful  judgments  to  fall  upon  us. 

Sign  5,  Unfruitfulness  threateneth  a  judgment  upon  a  people.  When  God 
hath  bestowed  a  great  deal  of  cost  and  time,  he  looks  we  should  answer  his 
expectation  in  some  measure.  The  fig-tree  in  the  gospel  had  some  respite 
given  it,  by  reason  of  the  prayers  of  the  vine-dresser;  but  afterward,  when 
it  brought  forth  no  fruit,  it  was  cut  down  and  cast  into  the  fire.  Beloved, 
who  amongst  us  would  endure  a  barren  tree  in  his  garden  ?  That  which  is 
not  fit  for  fruit  is  most  fit  for  fire.  We  can  endure  a  barren  tree  in  the 
wilderness,  but  not  in  our  orchards.  When  God,  the  great  husbandman  in 
his  church,  sees  that  upon  so  great  and  continual  cost  bestowed  upon  us,  we 
remain  yet  unfruitful,  he  will  not  suffer  us  long  to  cumber  the  ground  of  his 
church. 

Sign  6,  Again,  decay  in  our  first  love  is  a  sign  of  judgment  approach- 
ing. God  threatened  the  church  of  Ephesus  to  remove  his  candlestick 
from  among  them,  for  their  '  decay  in  their  first  love,'  Rev.  ii.  4 ;  that 
having  surfeited  of  plenty  and  peace,  he  might  recover  her  taste  by  dieting 
of  her.  Decay  in  love  proceeds  from  disesteem  in  judgment ;  and  God 
cannot  endure  his  glorious  gospel  should  be  slighted,  as  not  deserving  the 
richest  strain  of  our  love.  The  Lord  takes  it  better  where  there  is  but 
little  strength  and  a  striving  to  be  better,  than  when  there  is  great  means 
of  grace  and  knowledge,  and  no  growth  answerable,  but  rather  a  decUning 
in  goodness.  I  beseech  you  lay  these  things  to  heart.  The  Lord  is  much 
displeased  when  Christians  are  not  so  zealous  as  they  should  be ;  when 
there  is  not  that  sweet  communion  of  saints  among  them,  to  strengthen 
and  encourage  one  another  in  the  ways  of  holiness  as  there  might  be ; 
when  there  is  not  a  beauty  in  their  profession  to  allure  and  di'aw  on  others 
to  a  love  and  liking  of  the  best  things  ;  when  there  is  not  a  care  to  avoid 
all  scandals  that  may  weaken  respect  to  good  things,  and  bring  an  evil 
report  on  the  ways  of  God  ;  when  they  labour  not  with  their  whole  hearts 
to  serve  the  Lord  in  a  cheerful  manner,  &c.  The  very  not  serving  God 
answerable  to  encouragements,  is  a  certain  sign  of  ensuing  danger,  Deut. 
xxviii.  47. 

Use.  Therefore,  I  beseech  you,  let  us  look  about  us  whether  these  be  not 
the  times  wherein  we  live,  that  judgment  must  begin  at  the  house  of  God. 
The  Lord  complains  in  Jeremiah,  Jer.  viii.  7,  that  the  turtle  and  other 
silly  creatures  knew  the  time  of  their  standing  and  removing,  but  his 
people  did  not  know  his  judgments.  Do  the  creatures  know  their  times 
and  seasons,  and  shall  Christ  complain  that  we  know  not  the  day  of  our 
visitation  ?  What  a  shame  is  this  !  I  beseech  you,  let  us  know  and  consider 
our  times.     If  we  have  a  time  of  sinning,  God  will  have  a  time  of  punishing. 

And  have  we  not  just  cause  to  fear  that  judgment  is  not  far  from  us, 
when  we  see  a  great  part  of  God's  house  on  fire  aheady  in  our  neighbour- 
ing countries  ?     We  have  had  lesser  judgments,  and  they  have  not  wrought 


THE  church's  visitation.  881 

kindly  with  us ;  we  need  a  stronger  purge.  If  we  look  to  the  carriage  of 
men,  what  sin  is  less  committed  now  than  formerly?  How  few  renew 
their  covenant  with  God,  in  sincerity  of  resolution,  to  walk  closely  with  him  I 

And  what  the  judgment  will  be,  we  may  probably  foresee,  for  usually  the 
last  judgment  is  the  worst.  We  have  had  all  but  war,  the  worst  of  aU ; 
for  in  other  judgments  we  have  to  deal  with  God,  but  in  this  we  are  to 
deal  with  men,  whose  very  mercies  are  cruelties,  Prov.  xii.  10.  The  sword 
hath  a  long  time  been  shaken  over  our  heads,  a  cloud  of  war  hath  hung 
over  us  to  afiright  us,  but  we  rest  stUl  secure  in  our  sinful  courses,  and 
think  '  to-morrow  shall  be  as  to-day,'  Isa.  Ivi.  12,  and  that  '  no  evil  shall 
come  nigh  us,'  &c.,  Micah  iii.  11.  0  the  frozen  hearts  of  Christians,  that 
thrust  the  evil  day  far  from  them  !  do  we  not  see  the  whole  world  in  a 
manner  in  a  combustion  round  about  us,  and  we,  as  *  the  three  young  men 
in  the  fiery  furnace,'  Dan.  iii.,  untouched?  Beloved,  we  have  outstripped 
them  in  abominable  wickedness ;  and  however  the  Lord  is  pleased  that  we 
should  only  hear  a  noise  and  rumour  of  war,  yet  we  in  this  land  have 
deserved  to  drink  as  deep  of  the  cup  of  the  Lord's  wrath  as  any  people 
imder  heaven. 

Qii£st.  What  course  should  we  take  to  prevent  the  judgment  of  God,  and 
keep  it  from  us  ? 

Ans.  Of  the  means  to  prevent  and  escape  God's  judgments.  1.  Labour  to  meet 
God  by  speedy  repentance,  before  any  decree  be  peremptorily  come  forth  against  us. 
As  yet  there  is  hope  to  prevail ;  for,  blessed  be  God,  as  we  have  many  things 
to  fear,  so  we  have  many  things  to  encourage  us  to  go  unto  God  with  comfort. 
We  have  enjoyed  a  succession  of  gracious  princes  that  have  maintained  the 
truth  of  God  amongst  us  ;  we  have  many  godly  magistrates  and  ministers, 
together  with  the  ordinances,  and  many  other  experiences  of  God's  love 
vouchsafed  unto  us.  We  have  yet  time  to  seek  the  Lord.  Let  us  not  defer 
tUl  the  very  time  of  judgment  come  upon  us ;  for  that  is  but  self-love. 

Note.  Assure  thyself  thus  much,  thou  canst  have  no  more  comfort  in 
troubles  and  afflictions  when  they  do  come,  than  thou  hast  care  to  prevent 
them  before  they  come ;  answerable  to  our  care  in  preventing  now,  will  be 
our  comfort  then. 

Therefore  if  we  would  be  hid  in  the  day  of  God's  wrath ;  if  we  would 
have  God  to  set  his  mark  upon  us,  and  write  us  in  his  book  of  remem- 
brance, and  to  gather  us  when  he  '  makes  up  his  jewels,'  Mai.  iii.  16  ;  if 
we  would  have  him  to  own  us  then,  look  to  it  now,  get  now  into  Christ, 
be  provided  now  of  a  sound  profession  of  religion,  and  that  will  be  as  an 
ark  to  shelter  us  in  the  evil  day.  What  we  know  let  us  do,  and  then  we  shall 
be  built  on  a  rock,  that  if  waves  or  anything  come,  we  shall  not  be  stirred. 

Usually  God  in  dangerous  times  leaveth  some  ground  of  hope,  which 
worketh  differently  with  men.  Such  as  are  carnal,  grow  presumptuous 
hereupon ;  but  the  godly  are  drawn  nearer  to  God  upon  any  appearance  of 
encouragement;  the  good  things  they  enjoy  from  God,  work  in  them  a  more 
earnest  desire  to  please  him. 

It  is  the  custom  of  the  Spirit  of  God  to  make  doubtful,  imperfect,  and 
as  it  were  half  promises,  to  keep  his  people  still  under  some  hope ;  whence 
we  read  of  these  and  such  like  phrases  in  Scripture,  '  It  may  be  God  will 
shew  mercy,'  Amos  v.  15  ;  and  '  who  knoweth  whether  he  will  hear  us  ?' 
&c.,  Joel  ii.  14. 

2.  Again,  examine  and  try,  upon  what  ground  thou  prof essest  religion,  whether 
it  wiU  hold  water  or  no,  and  stand  thee  in  stead  when  evil  times  shall  come. 
Beloved,  it  nearly  concerns  us  all,  seriously  to  consider  and  narrowly  to  search, 


882  THE  church's  visitation. 

upon  what  grounds  we  venture  our  lives  and  souls  ;  try  our  graces,  our  know- 
ledge, repentance,  faith,  love,  &c.,  of  what  metal  they  are.  Those  that  have 
coin,  bring  it  to  the  touchstone,  and  if  it  prove  counterfeit  they  presently  reject 
it  and  wiU  have  none  of  it.  0  that  we  had  this  wisdom  for  matters  of 
eternity !  If  men  would  search  and  plough  up  their  own  hearts,  they 
would  not  need  the  ploughing  of  God's  enemies.  We  should  not  need 
God's  judgments,  if  we  would  judge  ourselves.  The  church  complained 
that  the  enemies  had  made  long  furrows  on  her  back,  but  if  she  had 
ploughed  herself,  she  had  saved  the  enemies  that  labour,  Ps.  cxxix.  3. 

3.  Before  any  judgment  comes,  let  iis  store  up  the  fruits  of  a  holy  life;  every 
day  be  doing  something;  do  that  now,  which  may  comfort  thee  then;  store 
up  comforts  against  the  evil  day.  When  the  '  night  is  come,  we  cannot 
work,'  John  ix.  4.  Let  us  therefore  '  walk  while  we  have  the  light,'  John 
xii.  35 ;  let  us  look  about  us  and  do  what  good  we  can  '  whilst  we  have 
time,'  as  the  apostle  saith,  1  Cor.  vii.  29.  The  time  will  come  ere  long 
that  thou  wilt  wish,  0  that  I  had  that  opportunity  and  advantage  of  doing 
good  as  I  have  had !  0  that  I  had  such  means  of  doing  good  as  I  have 
had  !  but  then  it  will  be  too  late  ;  then  that  whereby  thou  shouldst  do  good, 
will  be  in  thy  enemies'  hands ;  and  therefore,  while  we  have  time,  let  us  be 
doing  and  receiving  all  the  good  we  can. 

4.  Again,  if  we  would  have  God  to  shield  us,  and  be  an  hiding-place 
in  the  worst  times,  let  us  mourn  for  our  own  sins  and  the  shis  of  the  times 
wherein  we  live.  Let  us  keep  ourselves  unspotted  of  the  sins  of  the  world ; 
let  us  not  bring  sticks  to  the  common  fire  ;  let  us  not  make  the  times  worse 
for  us,  but  better,  that  the  times  and  places  we  Hve  in  may  bless  God  for  us. 

And  let  us  not  only  mourn  for  the  sins  of  the  times,  but  labour  also  to 
repress  them  all  we  can,  and  stand  in  the  gap,  endeavouring  by  our  prayers 
and  tears  to  stop  God's  judgments. 

5.  And  we  should  set  a  high  price  upon  that  religion  and  the  blessings  of  God 
which  we  do  enjoy,  lest  we  force  God  to  take  them  from  us  ;  and  so  we  come 
to  know  that,  by  the  want  of  it,  which  we  did  not  value  when  we  possessed 
it.  Oh,  let  us  esteem  the  treasure  of  the  gospel  at  a  higher  rate  than  ever 
we  have  done.  We  see  how  it  is  sHghted  by  most  of  the  world ;  how  they 
shake  the  blessed  truths  of  God,  and  call  them  into  question,  being  indif- 
ferent for  any  rehgion.  Is  this  our  proficiency,  beloved  ?  It  behoves  us 
to  store  up  all  the  sanctified  knowledge  we  can,  and  to  take  heed  we  yield 
not  to  any,  that  would  either  weaken. om*  judgment  in  rehgion,  or  our  afiections 
to  the  best  things.  We  should,  every  one  in  his  place,  labour  to  stop  dis- 
sensions in  this  kind,  and  knit  our  hearts  together  as  one  man  in  unity  and 
concord.  Factions  have  always  fractions  going  with  them.  Unity  makes 
strong,  but  division  weakeneth  any  people.  Even  Satan's  kingdom.  Mat. 
xii.  25,  26,  divided  against  itself,  cannot  stand. 

What  is  the  glory  of  England  ?  Take  away  the  gospel,  and  what  have 
we  that  other  nations  have  not  better  than  ourselves  ?  Alas,  if  we  labour 
not  to  maintain  truth,  we  may  say  with  EU's  daughter,  '  The  glory  of  God 
is  departed  from  us,'  1  Sam.  iv.  21. 

Sarah  had  her  handmaid ;  and  so  hath  rehgion  been  attended  with  pros- 
perity and  peace,  preservation  and  protection  amongst  us,  even  to  the  ad- 
miration *  of  other  countries.  Shall  we  not,  therefore,  make  much  of 
that  religion,  which,  if  we  had  it  alone,  joined  with  many  crosses  and  suf- 
ferings, yet  were  an  inestimable  and  unvaluable  blessing  ?  And  shall  we 
not  now  much  more,  considering  it  hath  been  attended  by  so  many  mer- 
*  That  is,  '  wonder.' — G. 


™ 


THE  church's  visitation.  883 

cies,  cherish  and  maintain  the  same  all  we  can  ?  Do  we  think  it  will  go 
alone  when  it  goes,  whensoever  God  removes  it  from  us  ?  No,  no.  There- 
fore, I  beseech  you,  let  us  highly  esteem  of  the  gospel,  whilst  we  do  enjoy 
it.  If  we  suffer  that  to  be  shaken  any  way,  our  peace  and  prosperity  will 
then  leave  us,  and  judgment  upon  judgment  wiU  come  upon  us.  If  we  wiU 
not  regard  the  truth  of  God,  which  he  esteemeth  most,  he  will  take  away 
outward  prosperity,  which  we  esteem  most. 

But  I  come  to  the  fifth  point,  that  judgment  must  begin  at  the  house  of  God. 

Quest.  Why  doth  God  begin  with  his  own  church  and  people  ? 

Ana.  Reason  1.  Usually  because  he  useth  wicked  men  and  the  enemies  of 
his  church  for  that  base  service,  to  correct  and  punish  them. 

Reason  2.  To  take  away  all  excuse  from  wicked  men.  That  they,  seeing  how 
severely  God  deals  with  his  own  dear  children,  might  be  stirred  up  to  look 
about  them,  and  consider  what  will  become  of  themselves  at  the  last,  if 
they  go  on  in  their  sinful  courses.  So  many  crosses  as  befall  God's  children, 
so  many  evidences  against  secure  carnal  persons ;  for  if  God  deal  thus  with 
the  green  tree,  what  wiU  he  do  with  the  dry  ?  If  he  scom-ge  his  children 
thus  with  rods,  certainly  the  slaves  shall  be  whipped  with  scorpions. 

Reason  3.  God  begins  with  his  own  servants,  that  his  children  might  behest 
at  last.  If  he  should  not  begin  with  them,  they  would  grow  deeper  in  re- 
bellion against  him,  and  attract  more  soil  and  filth  to  themselves,  and  be 
more  and  more  engaged  to  error  and  corruption.  God's  love  to  his  people 
is  such,  that  he  regards  their  correction  before  the  confusion  of  his  enemies. 

Reason  4.  Again,  God  doth  this,  that  when  he  sends  them  good  days  after- 
wards, they  might  have  the  more  taste  and  relish  of  his  goodness.  After  an 
afilicted  life,  we  are  more  sensible  of  happy  times.  God  deals  favourably, 
therefore,  with  a  man  when  he  crosseth  him  in  the  beginning  of  his  days, 
and  gives  him  peace  in  his  latter  end. 

This  is  a  point  of  marvellous  comfort  and  encouragement  to  the  faithful 
servants  of  God ;  for, 

Use  1.  Though  God  correct  them  sharply,  yet  he  shews  thereby  they  are  of 
his  household.  When  a  man  corrects  another,  we  may  know  it  is  his  child 
or  servant,  &c.  God  shews  that  we  are  of  his  house  and  family  by  the  care 
he  takes  to  correct  us.  The  vine  is  not  hated  because  it  is  pruned,  but  that 
it  may  bring  forth  more  fi-uit ;  the  ground  is  not  hated  because  it  is  ploughed, 
nor  the  house  because  it  is  cleansed. 

Quest.  But  what  is  meant  by  judgment  here  ? 

Ans.  Judgment  is  correction  moderated  to  God's  children.  Judgment  is 
twofold  in  Scripture.  The  statutes  of  God  are  called  judgments,  and  the 
corrections  of  God  are  called  judgments.  The  statutes  are  called  judgments, 
because  they  judge  what  we  should  do,  and  what  we  should  not  do.  Now, 
when  we  do  not  that  we  should,  he  is  forced  to  judge  us  actually  with  real 
judgments. 

The  real  judgments  of  God  are  either  (1),  upon  the  wicked,  and  so  they  are 
judgments  in  fury,  for  there  is  not  the  least  taste  of  his  love  in  them  to  wicked 
men.  They  can  make  no  sanctified  use  of  them,  because  they  are  not 
directed  to  them  for  their  good ;  or  (2),  to  God's  children,  and  so  they  are 
moderate  corrections;  and  therefore  the  prophet  so  often  urgeth,  '  Correct  us. 
Lord,  in  judgment,'  &c.,  Jer.  x.  24.  God  always  moderates  afflictions  to 
his  own  children,  but  as  for  the  wicked,  he  sweeps  them  away  as  dung,  as 
dross,  and  as  chaff,  &c. 

Use  2.  Again,  it  is  a  comfort  to  God's  children  that  he  begins  with  them 
first.     Rather  than  God  will  suffer  them  to  perish  and  be  condemned  with 


884  THE  chuech's  visitation. 

the  world,  he  begins  with  them  here.     They  have  their  worst  first,  and  the 
better  is  to  come. 

Use  3.  This  likewise  is  some  comfort,  that  the  time  when  God  corrects 
his  children  is  most  seasonable  and  fit  for  them.  God  pruneth  his  trees  in 
the  fittest  time.  A  plant  cut  unseasonably,  dieth,  but  being  cut  in  due  time 
it  flourishes  the  better.  Ail  the  works  of  God  are  beautiful  in  their  season. 
Every  Christian  may  truly  say,  God  loves  me  better  than  I  do  mj'self.  He 
knows  the  best  time  of  purging  and  visiting  his  people.  '  This  is  the  time  of 
Jacob's  trouble,'  &c.,  Micah  ii.  3.  Therefore  we  should  lay  our  hands 
upon  our  mouths,  kiss  the  rod,  and  stoop  under  judgments,  as  considering 
God's  time  to  be  the  best  time,  and  that  he  knows  better  what  is  good  for 
us  than  we  do  ourselves. 

Thus  you  see,  though  we  have  cause  of  fearing  God's  judgments,  yet 
there  is  something  to  comfort  us  in  the  midst  of  all.  God  mingles  our 
comforts  and  crosses  together  whilst  we  are  here,  both  to  keep  us  in  awe 
of  ofiending  his  Majesty,  and  to  encourage  us  in  well-doing.  Securitatis 
custos  timor.  Therefore  let  us  always  look  what  matter  of  fear  and  what 
matter  of  hope  we  have,  for  both  these  are  operative  afiections.  Sjyes 
exercitat  ad  opus.  Oh  that  I  could  stir  up  this  blessed  fear  in  you.  It  is 
that  which  preserves  the  soul ;  and  God  hath  promised  that  '  he  will  put  his 
fear  into  our  hearts,  that  we  shall  not  depart  from  him,'  Jer.  xxxii.  40.  I 
beseech  you,  ply  the  throne  of  grace,  and  desire  the  Lord  that  it  may  be  to 
every  one  of  your  souls  according  to  his  good  word. 

Labour  likewise  for  encoui'agement  in  the  ways  of  holiness.  Blessed  be 
God,  yet  we  have  a  time  of  respite.  God  forbears  us  with  much  patience 
and  goodness.  Answerable  to  our  good  courses  that  we  take  now,  will  be 
our  comfort  in  the  evil  day.  If  we  carelessly  go  on  in  sin,  and  think  it 
time  enough  to  renew  our  covenant  with  God  then,  when  his  judgments 
are  abroad  and  ready  to  cease  *  upon  us,  we  do  but  delude  our  own  souls, 
and  expose  om-selves  to  inevitable  dangers.  Mark  what  the  Lord  saith, 
Because  I  called,  and  you  would  not  hear,  &c.,  therefore  will  I  laugh  at 
your  destruction,  Prov.  i.  24,  26.  Is  it  not  strange  that  the  merciful  God 
should  laugh  at  the  calamity  of  his  poor  creatures  ?  Yet  thus  it  is  with 
every  wilfal  sinner  that  dallies  ^vith  God,  and  puts  ofi"  his  repentance  from 
time  to  time.  God  will  take  pleasure  in  the  ruin  of  such  a  man,  and  laugh 
when  his  fear  cometh,  because  those  that  seek  him  then,  do  it  not  out  of 
any  love  or  liking  of  God  and  the  ways  of  goodness,  but  merely  out  of  self- 
love  and  respect  to  their  own  welfare. 

*  Qu.  '  rest  ?'  or  '  fall  ?'— Ed. 


NOTES. 


(a)  Page  375. — '  That  which  was  Bethel,  is  now  become  Bethaven.'  That  is, 
what  was  '  Bethel,'  which  means  '  house  of  God,'  was  become  '  Bethaven,'  which 
means  '  house  of  idols  ;'  a  sort  of  jeu  de  mot  applied  to  Bethel,  after  it  became  the 
seat  of  the  worship  of  the  golden  calves. 

[b)  Page  378.. — '  First  ten  persecutions.'  The  first  was  under  Nero,  a.d.  64  ;  the 
second  under  Domitian,  95  ;  the  third  under  Trajan,  100  ;  the  fourth  under  Adrian, 
118  ;  the  fifth  under  Severus,  197  ;  the  sixth  under  Maximinus,  235  :  the  seventh 
under  Decius,  more  bloody  than  any  preceding  ;  the  eighth  under  Valerian,  267  ; 
the  ninth  under  Aurelian,  272 ;  and  the  tenth  under  Dioclesian,  which  lasted  ten 
years,  302.  G. 


THE  DNGODLY'S  MISERY. 


SEEMON  n. 

And  if  it  first  begin  at  us,  what  shall  the  end  of  those  be  that  obey  not  the 
gospel! — 1  Pet.  IV.  17. 

These  words  are  propounded  by  way  of  admiration,*  as  if  the  apostle  had 
been  at  his  wits'  end,  and  could  not  certainly  set  down  how  great  the 
judgment  should  be,  of  those  that  obey  not  the  gospel,  it  was  so  terrible 
and  unavoidable.     The  points  considerable  are  these : — 

Three  points  considerable.  1.  That  the  seeming  prosperity  of  the  wicked 
shall  have  an  end. 

2.  That  it  is  wisdom  to  consider  the  end  of  graceless  persons. 

3.  The  description  of  thein ;  in  these  words,  they  are  such  as  obey  not  the 
gospel. 

Obs.  1.  The  seeming  prosperity  of  the  wicked  shall  have  an  end.  It  ia 
naturally  in  the  hearts  of  carnal  persons,  to  think  it  shaU  be  always  well 
with  them,  whereas  the  prophet  saith,  the  happiness  of  a  wicked  man  is 
but  '  as  a  candle,  that  ends  ia  a  snuff,'  Prov.  xxiv.  20,  or  like  a  rose,  the 
beauty  whereof  suddenly  fades,  and  nothing  remains  but  the  prickles.  The 
favours  of  men,  for  which  they  so  much  offend  God,  shall  have  an  end ; 
their  strength  shall  end,  their  pleasure  shaU  end,  (alas,  they  are  but 
pleasures  of  sin  for  a  season  !)  their  life  itself,  the  foundation  of  all  their 
comforts,  that  shall  have  an  end ;  but  their  sins,  by  which  they  have 
offended  God,  shall  never  have  an  end.  See  what  a  fearftd  judgment 
follows  every  wicked  wretch  ;  that  which  he  sins  for,  his  honour,  riches, 
delights,  all  shall  vanish  and  come  to  nothing ;  they  shall  not  be  able  to 
afford  him  one  drop  or  dram  of  comfort  at  his  dying  day ;  but  the  sin 
itself,  the  guilt  of  that,  and  the  punishment  due  to  the  same,  shall  endure 
for  ever,  to  torment  his  soul,  without  serious  repentance  and  turning  to  God 
in  time. 

Obs.  2.  The  hap)piness  of  the  wicked  is  momentary ;  their  misery  endless. 
But  secondly,  if  the  happiness  of  wicked  men  shall  have  an  end,  and  their 
misery  shall  have  no  end,  let  us  not  be  dazzled  with  their  present  happiness, 
so  as  to  imitate  their  evil  ways ;  let  us  tremble  at  their  coui'ses,  whose  end 
we  tremble  at.  If  we  walk  in  the  same  path,  shall  we  not  come  to  the 
That  is,  '  a-mazement.' — Ci- 

VOL.  I.  3  b 


S86  THE  UNGODLY  S  MISERY. 

same  end  ?  All  wicked  men  that  delight  in  the  company  one  of  another 
here,  are  brethren  in  evil,  and  shall  be  like  a  company  of  tares,  all  cast  into 
hell-fire  together  hereafter.  It  is  pity  they  should  be  severed  then  that 
will  not  be  severed  now.  Those  men's  coui'ses,  therefore,  which  we  follow 
here,  of  their  judgment  we  shall  participate  eternally  afterwards. 

Use.  Let  this  admonish  us  to  have  nothing  to  do  with  sinful  persons, 
nor  to  be  troubled  with  their  seeming  prosperity.  '  They  stand  in  slippery 
places,'  Ps.  Ixxiii.  18.  God  lets  them  alone  for  a  while,  but  their  pleasure 
will  end  ia  bitterness  at  last ;  all  their  riches  shall  end  in  poverty  and 
beggary.  '  They  shall  not  have  a  drop  of  water  to  cool  their  tongues,* 
Luke  xvi.  24,  25.  All  their  honour  and  greatness  shall  end  in  confusion 
and  shame,  and  lie  in  the  dust  ere  long.  Indeed,  we  should  rather  pity 
them,  if  we  consider  their  latter  ends.  Alas,  what  shaU  become  of  them 
ere  long !  The  fall  of  these  wretches  shall  be  so  terrible,  that  Peter  could 
not  set  it  down,  but  leaves  it  to  the  admiration  of  the  reader,  What  shall 
the  end  of  such  be  !  &c. 

One  difference  betwixt  a  wise  man  and  a  fool  is,  that  a  wise  man  con- 
siders his  end,  and  frames  his  life  suitable  thereunto.  Therefore  if  we  would 
be  truly  wise,  let  us  consider  the  end  of  those  things  in  this  world,  which 
wicked  men  ofiend  God  for,  and  set  so  light  by  heaven  and  everlasting 
happiness  for  the  procurement  of.  Alas,  whatsoever  is  here,  shall  have  an 
end !  A  Christian  should  frame  his  course  answerable  to  eternity,  that 
when  his  happiness  shall  end  in  this  world,  it  may  begin  in  the  world  to 
come,  else  we  may  outlive  our  happiness. 

Present  happiness  agfjravates  future  and  eternal  misery.  This  is  the  misery 
of  wicked  men,  that  their  souls  are  eternal,  but  their  happiness  is  deter- 
mined in  this  life.  Here  that  ends ;  but  their  misery  is  infinite,  and  hath  no 
end  at  aU.  Look  what  degree  of  excellency  any  creature  hath,  if  it  be 
good ;  the  same  degree  of  misery  it  hath  if  it  be  evil.  What  made  the 
angels  worse  than  other  creatures  when  they  sinned,  but  only  this  ?  they 
were  most  excellent  creatures,  and  therefore  when  they  became  evil,  their 
excellency  did  but  help  them  to  subsist  and  be  more  capable  of  punishment. 
A  wise  man  understandeth  his  misery.  Sapiens  miser  plus  miser.  Now  the 
angels  when  they  fell  became  more  miserable,  because  they  were  more 
capacious,  and  sensible  of  it,  being  spirits. 

So  man  being  sinful  and  evil,  his  end  will  be  more  miserable  than  any 
inferior  creature,  because  he  was  more  happy.  His  happiness  helps  him  to 
more  misery.  How  should  this  stir  up  eveiy  one  to  look  about  him,  and 
not  to  prize  himself  by  any  outward  excellency  whatsoever !  The  more 
excellent  thou  art,  the  more  miserable  if  thou  sin  against  God.  It  is  of  all 
unhappiness  the  most  unhappy  thing,  for  a  man  to  Uve  happily  here  a 
while,  and  be  eternally  miserable  afterwards  ;  for  our  former  happiness 
tends  to  nothing  else  but  to  make  us  more  sensible  of  future  miseries. 
What  is  all  the  fehcity  of  great  persons,  when  they  die  and  leave  this 
world  ?  Alas,  it  soon  comes  to  nothing,  and  serves  but  to  make  them 
apprehensive  of  more  misery  than  meaner  persons  are  capable  of:  what 
shaU  the  end  of  such  be  ?  &c. 

Obs.d.  The  endless  miseries  of  the  wicked  shoidd  ivam  us  from  the  love  of 
their  present  pleasures  and  profits.  From  this,  that  the  apostle  leaves  the 
punishment  of  all  sinful  wretches  to  admiration  and  wonderment,  rather 
than  to  expression,  for  indeed  it  is  above  expression,  we  may  learn — when, 
we  are  tempted  to  any  sin  or  unlawful  course,  to  consider  thu^  with  ourselves  • 
Shall  I,  for  a  pleasure  that  will  end,  have  a  judgment  that  shall  never  end  ? 


THE  UNGODLY's  MISERY.  387 

for  the  favour  of  men  that  will  fail,  shall  I  lose  the  perpetual  favour  of  God, 
whose  wrath  is  a  consuming  fire,  and  burns  to  hell?  shall  I  for  a  little  profit, 
lose  my  soul  eternally  ?  Beloved,  as  the  good  things  of  a  Christian,  even  in 
this  Hfe,  are  admirable  beyond  expression,  *  peace  that  passeth  all  under- 
standing,' Philip,  iv.  7,  and  'joy  unspeakable  and  glorious,'  1  Pet.  i.  8,  &c., 
so  when  God  awakens  our  consciences,  those  gripes  and  pangs  and  terrors 
of  soul,  which  follow  after  sin  committed,  are  unutterable  and  inconceivable. 
I  beseech  you  therefore,  whenever  you  are  solicited  to  sin,  for  profit  or 
pleasure,  &c.,  set  before  your  eyes  the  fading  and  perishing  condition  of 
these  things,  and  the  everlastingness  of  that  judgment  which  attends  upon 
thorn.     Oh  that  we  were  \s  isse  this  way  ! 

Obs.  3.  I  come  now  to  the  third  particular ;  Those  that  obey  not  the 
gospel,  wherein  we  have — 

1.  A  description  of  the  thing. 

2.  And  then  of  the  persons. 

The  thing  is  the  gospel  of  God ;  the  persons  are  wicked  men.  God  is  the 
author  of  the  gospel.  It  comes  out  of  his  breast,  sealed  with  authority. 
Whence  learn  this,  by  the  way,  that  in  refusing  the  blessed  gosjjel,  ire  have  to 
deal  ivith  God  himself.  It  is  God's  word  and  gospel.  Therefore  when  you 
reject  it,  you  reject  God  ;  in  receiving  it,  you  receive  God.  You  deal  with 
God  himself,  when  you  deal  with  the  ministers  of  his  word.  Therefore 
whenever  you  partake  of  the  ordinances,  say,  with  good  Cornelius,  '  We 
are  now  in  the  presence  of  God,  to  hear  what  he  will  say,'  Acts  x.  33. 

Qu£st.  But,  what  is  it  to  obey  the  gospel  ? 

Ans.  To  obey  the  gospel  is  to  entertain  the  offers  of  it ;  for  indeed  though 
the  gospel  command  us  to  beHeve  in  the  Son  of  God,  yet  withal  it  ofiers 
the  very  command  unto  us ;  to  beheve  in  Christ,  being  in  effect  a  command 
to  receive  him,  which  supposeth  an  act  of  giving  and  tendering  something 
to  us.  Now  when  we  do  not  receive  and  entertain  with  our  whole  heart 
Chi-ist  and  his. benefits,  freely  ofiered,  we  disobey  the  gospel,  and  so  pro- 
cure danger  to  ourselves. 

But  more  particularly,  he  obeys  the  gospel  that  is  sensible  of  his  own 
miserable  and  sinful  condition,  and  from  a  sense  thereof  hungereth  after  the 
grace  and  favour  offered  in  Jesus  Christ  to  pardon  sin,  which  when  he  hath 
once  obtained,  [he]  walks  answerable  to  that  great  mercy  received.  He 
that  receives  whole  Christ  to  justify  him,  and  sanctify  him  too ;  that  re- 
ceives Christ  as  a  king  to  rule  him  as  well  as  a  priest  to  save  him,  such  a 
one  receives  the  gospel.  But  those  that  are  not  sensible  of  their  miseiy, 
or  if  they  be,  will  not  go  to  Christ,  but,  as  desperate  persons,  fling  away 
the  potion  that  should  cure  them,  these  are  far  from  obeying  the  gospel  of 
God,  Such  Hkewise  as  pretend,  Oh,  Christ  is  welcome  with  the  pardon  of  sin, 
but  yet  live  in  gross  wickedness,  against  knowledge  and  conscience,  and 
suffer  him  not  to  bear  sway  in  their  hearts,  as  if  Christ  came  by  blood 
alone,  and  not  by  water ;  whereas  indeed  he  came  as  well  by  water  to  sanc- 
tify us,  as  by  blood  to  die  for  us. 

Many  there  are  that  think  they  obey  the  gospel,  who  are  indeed  very 
rebels  and  enemies  unto  it.  They  welcome  the  gospel,  and  they  hate  popery, 
&c.,  but  notwithstanding  they  will  be  their  own  rulers,  and  live  as  they 
list ;  they  will  not  deny  themselves  in  their  beloved  sins  ;  they  are  full  of 
revenge,  notwithstanding  the  gospel  saith,  '  This  is  my  commandment,  that 
you  love  one  another,'  John  xv.  12.  That  *  bids  them  deny  ungodliness  and 
worldly  lusts,  and  live  soberly,'  Titus  ii.  12 ;  yet  they  will  riot,  and  follow 
their  base  courses  still.     The  gospel  teacheth  a  man  to  acknowledge  God  in 


388  THE  ungodly's  miseet. 

all  Ms  ways,  to  deal  with  God  in  all  things  he  goes  about.  Now,  when  a 
man  lives  without  God  in  the  world,  saying,  God  is  merciful,  and  Christ  is 
a  Saviour,  and  yet  persists  in  those  ways  which  seem  good  in  his  own  eyes, 
never  looking  to  God  to  guide  him,  or  his  law  to  nile  him,  how  can  such  a 
one  be  said  to  obey  the  gospel  ? 

That  u'orJcs  have  no  place  in  the  act  of  justification.  But  some  others 
there  are  amongst  us,  that  regard  not  Christ  and  his  satisfaction  alone,  but 
join  faith  and  works  together  in  justification  ;  they  will  have  other  priests, 
and  other  intercessors  than  Christ.  Alas !  beloved,  how  are  these  men 
fallen  from  Christ  to  another  gospel,  as  if  Christ  were  not  an  aU-sufficient 
Saviour,  and  able  to  deliver  to  the  uttermost !  What  is  the  gospel  but 
salvation  and  redemption  by  Christ  alone  ?  Gal.  ii.  16. 

Therefore  Rome's  church  is  an  apostate  church,  and  may  weU  be  styled 
an  adulteress  and  a  whore,  because  she  is  fallen  from  her  husband  Christ 
Jesus. 

And  what  may  we  think  of  those  that  would  bring  light  and  darkness, 
Christ  and  antichrist,  the  ark  and  Dagon  together ;  that  would  reconcile  us, 
as  if  it  were  no  such  great  matter !  Beloved,  they  that  join  works  with 
Christ  in  matter  of  justification,  err  in  the  foundation.  The  very  life  and 
soul  of  religion  consists  in  this.  What  was  the  reason  the  Jews  stumbled 
at  this  stumblingblock,  and  were  never  benefited  by  Christ  ?  Why  ?  They 
set  up  a  righteousness  of  their  own,  which  could  not  stand,  but  soon  failed 
them.  So  when  a  man  sets  up  a  righteousness  of  his  own,  neglecting  the 
righteousness  of  Christ,  it  is  impossible  he  should  ever  be  saved,  living  and 
dying  in  that  error,  Philip,  iii.  10. 

Why  disobedience  against  the  gospel  is  so  great  a  sin.  Therefore,  I  beseech 
you,  take  heed  of  disobeying  the  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ  in  any  kind  what- 
soever, for  of  all  sins  this  is  the  greatest,  as  shall  appear  by  these  reasons. 

Reason  1.  First,  because  sins  against  the  gospel  are  sins  against  those  at- 
tributes, wherein  God  uill  glorify  himself  most,  as  his  grace,  mercy,  loving- 
kindness,  &c.  Therefore  the  gospel  is  called  grace,  because  it  pubUsheth, 
offers,  and  applies  grace.  Now  sins  against  mercy  are  greater  than  sins 
against  justice  ;  for  God  hath  made  all  things  for  the  glory  of  his  mercy. 
Even  among  men,  are  not  sins  against  favours  the  greatest  sins  ?  To 
wrong  a  man  whether  he  deserves  well  or  ill  is  an  offence.  But  what  man 
will  have  his  courtesies  rejected,  though  never  so  mean  ?  Love  deserves 
love  ;  favour'  deserves  respect  again.  But  now  when  we  obey  not  the  gospel, 
we  neglect  and  despise  the  goodness  and  mercy  of  God.  Oh  what  excellent 
blessings  doth  the  gospel  reveal,  if  we  had  hearts  to  value  them !  Doth 
not  the  gospel  bring  salvation  !  Is  it  not  the  word  of  grace,  the  word  of 
life,  the  word  of  the  kingdom  ?  Beloved,  I  beseech  you,  lay  these  things  to 
heart,  for  whensoever  you  refuse  the  gospel  of  Christ,  you  refuse  with  it 
the  word  of  grace,  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  and  eternal  life,  and  aU. 
Therefore  the  sins  of  the  gospel  must  needs  be  the  greatest  sins. 

Reason  2.  Again,  sins  against  the  greatest  light  are  most  sinful.  What 
makes  sin  out  of  measure  sinful,  but  this,  when  it  is  committed  against  a 
great  measure  of  light  ?  WTiat  makes  a  man  fall  foul  ?  It  is  not  when  he 
falls  in  a  mist,  or  in  a  dark  night,  every  one  wiU  pity  him  then  ;  alas,  he 
wanted  light ;  but  when  he  falls  at  noon-day.  Beloved,  had  we  hved  in 
former  times,  when  the  light  was  not  poured  forth  so  abundantly  as  now  it 
is,  our  sin  had  been  the  less ;  but  now  in  this  clear  sunshine  of  the  gospel, 
for  us  to  Uve  in  sins  condemned  by  so  great  a  light,  either  in  our  judgment 
or  practice,  it  must  needs  make  our  sin  the  greater.     '  If  I  had  not  come 


I 


THE  ungodly' S  MISERY.  389 

and  spoken  to  them,'  saith  our  Saviour,  '  they  had  had  some  pretence  for 
their  sins,'  John  xv.  22  ;  but  when  Christ  had  once  poken,  all  excuse  was 
taken  away  ;  they  could  not  then  say  they  knew  not  the  will  of  God ;  and 
this  is  the  reason  of  that  speech  of  the  apostle,  '  Now  you  are  in  the  Hght, 
walk  as  children  of  light,'  Eph,  v.  8.  '  And  this  is  the  condemnation,  that 
men  hate  light  (not  that  men  for  want  of  Hght  stumble,  but),  that  men  love 
darkness  more  than  light,'  John  iii.  19.  It  is  not  the  sin  itself,  but  the 
love  and  liking  of  sin  which  aggravates  men's  wickedness,  whenas  the  malice 
and  poison  of  their  hearts  rebel  against  the  discovery  of  God's  good  pleasure 
in  Christ. 

Negative  in  fidelity  is  a  lesser  sin  than  disobedience  to  the  gospel.  No  people 
out  of  the  church  are  capable  of  this  sin ;  for  how  can  they  sin  by  infidelity 
and  unthankfulness  for  the  gospel  that  never  had  it  ?  And  therefore  nega- 
tive infidelity  is,  as  it  were,  no  sin  in  comparison,  '  If  I  had  not  come 
among  them,  they  had  had  no  sin,'  saith  Christ,  John  xv.  22.  Negative  I 
call  that,  whenas  men  believe  not,  having  no  means,  as  infidels  and  heathens, 
&c.  And  therefore  as  they  sin  without  the  gospel,  so  they  shall  be  damned 
without  the  gospel.  The  rule  of  their  damnation  shall  be  the  law  of  nature 
written  in  their  hearts ;  for  this  is  an  undoubted  truth,  no  man  ever  lived 
answerable  to  his  ride  ;  and  therefore  God  hath  just  ground  of  damnation  to 
any  man,  even  from  this,  that  he  hath  not  lived  answerable  to  the  rule  of 
his  own  conscience.     So  that  we  need  not  fly  to  reprobation,  &c. 

Reason  3.  Again,  another  aggravation  of  sins  against  the  gospel  is,  that 
they  sin  against  the  better  covenant.  The  first  covenant  was,  Do  this  and  live, 
against  which  we  all  sinned,  and  ivere  under  the  curse.  But  now  we  are 
under  a  more  gracious  covenant,  a  covenant  of  mercy,  '  BeUeve  in  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  and  we  shall  be  saved.'  Therefore  sin  now  must  needs  be 
more  heinous ;  for  if  we  sin  against  the  gospel,  either  by  presumption  or 
despair,  or  else  by  profaneness,  professing  the  gospel  but  denying  the  power 
of  it,  &c.,  2  Tim.  iii.  5,  there  is  no  remedy  left  for  us.  If  a  man  sin  against 
the  law,  against  moral  honesty  and  civil  righteousness,  there  is  a  remedy 
in  the  gospel  for  him ;  but  when  a  man  sins  against  the  sweet  love  and 
goodness  of  God,  in  rejecting  the  gospel  of  his  dear  Son,  mercy  itself  shall 
not  save  such  an  one.  That  must  needs  be  a  strange  sin  that  makes  a 
man  worse  than  a  Sodomite,  yet  we  read  it  '  shall  be  easier  for  Sodom  and 
Gomorrah  in  that  day,'  Mat.  x.  15,  than  for  those  that  hear  the  gospel,  the 
blessed  allurements  and  invitations  to  believe,  and  to  lead  an  holy  Hfe 
answerable  to  our  faith  and  calling,  and  yet  live  in  sins  against  conscience, 
despising  the  precious  blood  of  Christ. 

Herod  was  a  wretched  man,  yet  notwithstanding  it  was  said,  he  added 
this  to  all,  '  he  put  John  in  prison,  a  preacher  of  the  gospel,'  Luke  ii.  20.  Sins 
against  the  gospel  in  a  loose  maUgnant  professor,  are  many  times  worse  than 
all  the  rest.  Oh  therefore  take  heed  of  sinning  against  the  favour  and  good- 
ness of  God ;  for  this  will  confound  us  at  the  day  of  judgment,  when  we 
shall  think.  What !  was  so  gi-eat  mercy  ofiered  me,  and  did  I  slight  it  in  this 
manner  ?  Have  I  lost  the  favour  of  God,  eternal  life,  and  the  glorious  com- 
pany of  the  saints  in  heaven,  for  a  base  pleasm-e  of  sin  for  a  season  ?  to  gra- 
tify a  brutish  lust  ?  Have  I  lost  Christ  and  all  the  good  by  him  for  ever, 
only  to  satisfy  my  sinful  disposition  ?  to  please  a  carnal  friend  ?  &c.  Oh, 
how  will  this  lie  heavy  upon  the  soul  another  day  !  We  shall  not  need 
accusers.  Our  own  hearts  shall  justify  the  sentence  of  God  against  us,  be 
it  never  so  sharp,  that  we  have  refused  mercy,  so  often  tendered  to  us  in 
the  blood  of  Christ.     Mark  what  St  Paul  saith,  '  The  Lord  Jesus  shall  be 


890  THE  ungodly' S  MISERY. 

revealed  from  heaven  in  flaming  fire,  taking  vengeance  upon  those  that 
know  not  God,  and  obey  not  his  glorious  gospel,'  2  Thess.  i.  7,  8.  He  saith 
not  only  on  those  that  are  swearers  and  profane  persons,  but  ignorant  sots 
that  care  not  to  know  God,  though  they  be  not  open  sinners.  He  saith 
not,  those  that  persecute  the  gospel  or  oppose  it,  shall  be  punished  with 
eternal  destruction  from  the  presence  of  God,  which  is  true  ;  but  those  that 
Bin  in  a  less  degree,  '  such  as  obey  not  the  gospel,  2  Thess.  i.  8 ;  that 
value  not  this  inestimable  jewel ;  that  sell  not  all  to  buy  this  pearl.  Mat. 
xiii.  46  ;  unto  whom  aU  the  world  is  not  dross  and  dung,  Philip,  iii.  8,  in 
respect  of  the  glorious  gospel  of  Christ  Jesus.  How  shall  they  escape 
'  which  neglect  so  great  salvation  ?'  Heb.  ii.  3. 

Oh,  say  some,  this  concerns  not  me,  I  thank  God  there  is  mercy  in  Christ, 
and  I  hope  for  pardon,  &c.  Beloved,  here  is  the  bane  of  men's  souls, 
they  will  be  their  own  carvers,  and  take  of  the  gospel  what  they  hst.  Oh, 
80  much  of  Chiist  as  concerns  their  own  good  they  will  have ;  so  much  as 
concerns  their  pleasure  and  profit ;  so  much  as  they  may  have,  and  be  proud 
too,  and  be  devilish  and  evU  in  their  life  and  conversation  too.  This  they 
allow  of.  And  it  is  pity  he  should  live  that  regards  not  Christ  in  justification. 
But  so  much  as  concerns  mortification  and  self-denial,  as  crosses  them  in 
their  sinful  courses,  this  they  are  strangers  to.  But,  we  must  know,  the 
gospel  doth  not  only  bring  salvation,  but  it  teacheth  a  man  '  to  deny 
imgodliness  and  worldly  lusts,'  Titus  ii.  12;  to  put  off  himself,  his  whole 
self,  that  he  might  have  no  judgment,  nor  no  afiection  contrary  to  God. 

To  make  this  more  plainly  appear,  take  these  few  instances. 

Instance  1.  The  very  first  lesson  which  the  gospel  enjoineth,  is  to  'cut 
off  om'  right  hand,  and  pull  out  our  right  eye,'  that  is,  to  deny  ourselves  in 
those  sins  which  are  most  useful  and  gainful  to  us.  Now  when  this  is 
pressed  in  particular,  to  some  that  live  in  their  secret  beloved  sins,  pre- 
sently they  begin  to  hate  this  blessed  truth,  and  the  ministry  thereof.  They 
know  so  much  as  will  damn  them,  but  so  much,  as  without  the  which  they 
cannot  be  saved,  that  they  oppose.  Contenting  themselves  with  a  bare 
form  and  outside  of  religion,  they  come  to  chm'ch,  and  take  their  books, 
and  read,  and  hear,  and  receive  the  sacrament,  &c.,  and  in  these  outward 
performances  they  rest.  Alas,  beloved,  what  are  these  ?  I  tell  you,  all 
the  privileges  of  the  gospel  do  but  aggravate  thy  damnation,  if  thou  are  not 
better  by  them ;  for  as  they  are  in  themselves  invaluable  privileges,  and  even 
ravish  the  heart  of  a  true  child  of  God ;  so  when  they  are  not  entertained  to 
purpose,  they  make  our  sin  the  more  heinous.  Every  man  is  wUhng  to 
accept  of  Christ,  but  it  must  be  upon  their  own  terms  ;  and  what  are  those  ? 
So  they  may  enjoy  their  worldly  delights ;  so  they  may  increase  their  estates 
by  such  unlawful  means,  and  not  be  crossed.  So  long  they  are  content  that 
Christ  and  the  gospel  shall  be  theirs  ;  but  otherwise,  if  they  cannot  enjoy 
Christ  upon  their  own  terms,  that  is,  if  they  cannot  go  to  heaven  and  to 
hell  too,  they  will  rather  regard  their  own  profits  and  pleasures,  than  regard 
Christ.  Oh,  how  do  these  poor  wretches  delude  their  own  souls  !  Beloved, 
the  embracing  and  obeying  the  gospel  is  a  spiritual  marriage  betwixt  Christ 
and  the  beUever.  Now,  you  know  in  marriage  the  will  is  given  up  to  the 
husband ;  the  wife  is  no  more  her  own,  but  at  his  disposing.  So  when  once 
we  are  truly  united  unto  Christ,  we  take  him  for  better  for  worse.  We 
must  suffer  with  him,  yea,  live  and  die  with  him,  and  esteem  him  above 
all ;  we  must  take  Christ  upon  his  own  terms,  or  else  he  will  not  be  had. 
If  we  love  not  '  him  above  father  and  mother  (yea  and  life  itself),  we  are  not 
worthy  of  him,'  Mat.  x.  37 ;  and  therefore  aJl  that  do  not  thus  obey  the 


THE  tjngodly's  miseky.  891 

gospel  are  rebels,  and  shall  have  the  reward  of  rebels  if  they  repent  not  in 
time.  Were  it  not  a  comely  thing,  think  you,  for  a  company  of  traitors 
that  had  this  condition  propounded  to  them,  if  you  will  come  in  and  live  as 
good  subjects  you  shall  have  a  pardon,  for  them  to  go  on  presumptuously 
in  their  rebellion  still,  and  think  to  have  favour  when  they  please  ?  Would 
not  a  sharp  execution  be  the  just  desert  of  such  persons  ? 

Instance  2.  Again,  Christ  propounds  pardon  and  forgiveness  of  sins  upon 
this  condition,  that  we  will  come  in  and  live  as  wives*  and  as  obedient 
subjects  to  his  blessed  Spirit,  and  not  in  swearing,  filthiness,  and  other 
abominable  courses,  of  which  the  Scripture  saith,  '  such  shaU  never  inherit 
the  kingdom  of  heaven,'  1  Cor.  vi.  9 ;  and  yet  notwithstanding,  Satan  hath 
so  bewitched  many  poor  wretches,  that  they  think  their  case  is  good,  and 
it  shaU  go  well  with  them,  be  their  lives  never  so  loose  and  opposite  to  the 
ways  of  God.  They  bless  themselves  when  God  doth  not  bless  them,  but 
rather  curse  them  to  their  faces.  The  devil  himself  is  likely  to  be  saved  as 
soon  as  such  graceless  persons  as  these,  without  repentance.  No,  no ;  if 
ever  they  expect  a  pardon,  they  must  live  as  subjects ;  if  they  frame  not 
themselves  to  be  guided  by  Christ,  and  come  under  his  government,  to  be 
ruled  according  to  his  will,  they  have  nothing  to  do  with  mercy  and  salva- 
tion :  '  those  mine  enemies,  that  will  not  have  me  rule  over  them,  bring  them 
hither,  and  slay  them  before  me,'  &c.,  Luke  xix.  27.  We  mock  Christ  if  we 
win  not  suffer  him  to  rule  us. 

Ohj.  But  I  cannot  obey  the  gospel  of  myself. 

Ans.  It  is  true  we  cannot,  no  more  than  we  can  obey  the  law ;  nay,  it 
is  harder  to  obey  the  gospel  than  to  obey  the  law  in  a  man's  own  strength ; 
for  there  are  the  seeds  of  the  law  in  our  nature,  but  there  are  none  of  the 
gospel.  That  is  merely  f  supernatural.  The  promises  are  above  nature 
to  apprehend  them ;  therefore  a  supernatural  strength  is  required  to  plant 
the  excellent  grace  of  faith  in  our  hearts.  But  though  we  be  as  unable 
to  believe  and  obey  the  gospel  as  the  law,  yet  here  is  the  difference ;  toge- 
ther with  the  unfolding  of  our  miseries  by  the  gospel,  the  Spirit  of  God 
goes  along  to  sustain  us.  The  law  finds  us  dead,  and  gives  us  no  strength,  but 
leaves  a  man  cursed  still ;  the  gospel  likewise  finds  us  dead,  but  it  leaves  us 
not  so,  and  therefore  it  is  called  '  the  ministry  of  the  Spirit,'  Gal.  iii.  5.  '  Re- 
ceived you  the  Spiiit  by  the  law,  or  by  the  gospel  ?'  Gal.  iii.  2.  God's  blessed 
Spirit  goes  together  with  the  sweet  message  of  salvation  and  eternal  life,  and 
this  Spirit  doth  not  only  open  our  understandings,  but  incline  and  bend 
our  wills  and  affections  to  embrace  the  truth  that  is  offered.  Seeing,  there- 
fore, the  Spirit  which  accompanieth  the  gospel  is  mighty  and  powerful  in 
operation,  let  none  pretend  impossibility.  For  though  they  find  not  the 
sweet  blaze  of  the  Spirit  at  the  first  or  second  hearing,  yet  let  them  still 
attend  upon  grace,  '  waiting  at  wisdom's  gate,'  Prov.  viii.  34,  and  the  angel 
will  come  at  length  and  stir  the  waters.  God  will  make  the  means  effectual 
first  or  last,  to  those  that  in  truth  of  heart  seek  unto  him ;  for  the  gospel  is 
the  chariot  of  the  Spirit,  and  the  golden  conduit  through  which  the  Spirit 
runs,  and  is  conveyed  to  us.  Therefore  if  thou  wouldst  not  disobey  the 
gospel,  withstand  not  the  Spmt  of  God  working  by  the  same. 

How  the  Spirit  works  with  the  gosjwl.  Now  the  Spu-it  works  with  the 
gospel  by  degrees.  1.  It  bringeth  some  to  be  wilUng  to  hear  the  gospel, 
who  yet  presently  neglect  and  disregard  the  same.  2.  Others  are  more 
obedient  for  a  time,  '  as  the  stony  ground,'  Mat.  xiii.  5,  but  because  they 

*  That  is,  as  '  submissive.'     See  page  390,  line  7  from  bottom.— G. 
t  That  is,  '  wholly.'- G. 


892  THE  ungodly' S  MISEKY. 

opened  not  their  hearts  to  the  working  of  the  Spirit  only,  but  will  be  ruled 
partly  by  carnal  wisdom,  and  partly  by  the  Spirit,  it  leaves  them  at  last 
altogether.  3.  But  some  there  are  who  give  up  themselves  wholly  to  the 
government  of  Christ,  to  be  ruled  in  all  things  by  his  blessed  Spirit,  highly 
esteeming  the  treasures  of  heaven,  and  comforts  of  a  better  life,  above  all 
the  fading  outward  fehcities  which  this  world  can  afford ;  who  would  not 
gain  any  earthly  thing,  hurt  their  consciences,  or  once  defile  themselves 
with  unfruitful  works  of  darkness  ;  fearing  lest  they  should  in  anything  dis- 
honour Christ,  or  grieve  his  good  Spirit ;  and  to  such  only  hath  the  gospel 
come  in  power. 

Therefore,  I  beseech  you,  seriously  consider  of  this  truth.  If  you  would  not 
disobey  the  gospel,  disobey  not  the  Spirit  accompanying  the  same  ;  deal  faithfully 
with  your  own  souls.  Which  of  you  all  hath  not  some  time  or  other  had  his 
heart  warmed  with  the  sweet  motions  of  God's  Spu-it  ?  Oh,  do  not  resist 
these  holy  stirrings  within  you ;  give  way  to  the  motions  of  the  blessed 
Spirit  of  God ;  second  them  with  holy  resolutions  to  practise  the  same  ;  let 
them  sink  deep  into  your  hearts,  root  them  there,  and  never  give  over  the 
holy  meditation  of  them,  till  you  make  them  your  own,  till  you  come  to  see 
grace  and  the  state  of  Christianity,  to  be  the  most  amiable  and  excellent 
thing  in  the  world,  and  sin  and  carnal  courses  to  be  the  most  accursed 
thing  in  the  world,  worse  than  any  misery,  than  any  beggary,  torment,  or 
disgrace  whatsoever.  Beloved,  till  we  have  our  spirits  wrought  upon  to 
this  high  esteem  of  good  things,  and  to  a  base  undervaluing  of  all  things 
else,  we  shall  rebel  against  Ciu'ist  first  or  last ;  for  until  such  time  as  the 
heart  of  man  is  overpowered  with  grace,  he  cannot  but  disobey  the  gospel, 
either  by  shutting  it  out  altogether,  or  by  making  an  evil  use  of  what  he 
knoweth,  thereby  turning  the  '  grace  of  God  into  wantonness,'  Jude  4,  or 
else  by  revolting  from  the  truth  received  altogether.  When  times  of  temp- 
tation come,  unsound  Christians  will  do  one  of  these  three,  either  despise, 
refuse,  or  revolt  from  the  truth.  Therefore  I  beseech  you,  let  your  hearts 
be  cast  into  the  mould  and  fashion  of  the  gospel  of  Christ,  let  it  be  soundly 
bottomed  and  engrafted  in  you,  that  so  you  may  grow  more  and  more  obe- 
dient to  the  truth  revealed,  and  so  your  end  shall  not  be  theirs  here,  ivhich 
obey  not  the  gospel  of  Jesiis  Christ. 

Quest.  But  how  may  I  come  to  obey  the  gospel  ? 

Ans.  Beg  earnestly  of  God,  in  the  use  of  the  means  (else  prayer  is  but  a  tempt- 
ing of  God),  that  thy  soul  may  be  convinced  what  evil  is  in  thee,  and  what  evil  is 
towards  thee,  unless  thou  repent.  Labour  for  sound  conviction ;  for  you  shall 
not  need  to  stir  up  a  man  that  is  condemned  to  seek  out  for  a  pardon,  or  a 
man  that  feels  the  smart  of  his  wound  to  get  balm  to  cure  it.  Oh,  no ;  when 
our  hearts  are  once  truly  humbled  and  pierced  with  a  sight  of  our  sins,  then 
Christ  wiU  be  Christ  indeed  unto  us.  Now  mercy  is  sweet  at  such  a  time  ; 
anything  for  a  Saviour  then,  and  not  before.  Therefore  labour  every  day  to 
Bee  more  and  more  into  the  venomous  and  filthy  nature  of  sin ;  make  it  as 
odious  to  thy  soul  as  possibly  thou  canst ;  hearken  to  the  voice  of  con- 
science ;  give  it  full  scope  to  speak  what  it  can,  that  so  thou  mayest  fly  to 
Christ.  Consider  how  God  plagueth  us  in  this  world  for  sin ;  how  it  fills 
us  with  fears  and  horrors,  causing  our  consciences  to  torment  us,  and  fly 
in  our  faces  ;  consider  what  threatenings  are  denounced  against  sin  and  sin- 
ners, for  the  time  to  come ;  consider  the  fearful  judgments  of  God  upon 
others  for  sin,  how  it  cast  Adam  out  of  paradise,  the  angels  out  of  heaven, 
being  so  ofiensive  to  God,  that  it  could  no  otherwise  be  expiated  than  by 
the  death  and  bloodshedding  of  the  Lord  Jesus.     I  beseech  you,  let  your 


THE  UNGODLY's  MISERY.  393 

hearts  dwell  upon  these  things,  and  consider  with  yourselves  how  bitter  you 
have  found  it  to  offend  God,  though  now  it  be  a  time  of  mercy. 

2.  Secondly,  consider  how  the  gospel  lays  open  Christ  unto  us  ;  '  This  is 
his  commandment,  that  webeheve  in  the  Lord  Jesus,'  1  John  iii.  23.  He 
that  commands  us  to  do  no  murder,  not  to  steal,  &c.,  commands  us  hkewise 
to  beUeve  in  Christ.  He  commands  us  to  love  our  own  souls  so  much,  as 
to  take  the  remedy  which  may  cure  them ;  so  that  now  it  is  our  duty  to  be 
good  to  our  poor  souls ;  and  we  offend  God  if  we  be  not  merciful  to  our  own 
souls.  Oh  !  what  a  favour  is  this,  that  God  should  lay  a  charge  upon  me 
not  to  reject  my  own  mercy,  as  it  is  in  Jonah,  '  They  who  follow  lying 
vanities  forsake  their  own  mercies,'  Jonah  ii.  8.  If  I  do  not  love  my  own 
soul,  and  accept  of  mercy  offered,  '  I  make  God  a  liar,'  1  John  v.  10,  and 
offend  his  majesty. 

3.  Again,  consider  how  God  allures  those  that  might  except  against 
mercy.  Alas,  I  am  laden  with  sin,  wiU  some  poor  soul  say  !  Why !  '  Come 
unto  me,  all  you  that  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  ease  you,'  Mat,  xi.  28. 
But  I  have  offended  God,  I  have  broken  my  peace,  &c.,  yet  '  I  beseech  you, 
be  reconciled  to  God,'  2  Cor.  v.  20 ;  though  you  have  offended,  yet  there  is 
hope.  Do  but  consider  how  ready  God  is  to  help  you,  how  continual  his 
mercies  are,  and  how  he  stretcheth  out  his  hands  to  receive  us. 

4.  Consider  further,  what  a  sweet  regiment*  it  is  to  be  under  Christ, 
as  a  king,  and  as  an  husband.  Will  he  not  provide  for  his  own  family,  for 
his  own  subjects  ?  Beloved,  it  is  not  mere  dominion  that  Christ  stands 
upon  ;  he  aims  at  a  fatherly  and  husband-hke  sovereignty,  for  the  good  of 
his  children  and  spouse.  It  is  their  welfare  he  looks  after.  Therefore,  I 
beseech  you,  be  in  love  with  the  government  of  Jesus  Christ,  his  blessed 
Spirit.  Oh  !  it  is  a  sweet  regiment  !*  For  the  Spirit  of  God  leads  us  quietly, 
enlightening  our  understandings  upon  judicious  grounds  what  to  do,  by 
strength  of  reason;  altering  our  natures,  and  bettering  us  every  way,  both  in 
om'  inward  and  outward  man.  It  never  leaves  teaching  and  guiding  of  us 
tiU  it  hath  brought  us  to  heaven  and  happiness. 

To  conclude,  mark  what  the  apostle  saith  here,  '  What  shall  be  the  end 
of  those  that  obey  not  the  gospel  ? '  He  cares  not  what  they  know.  Many 
say,  we  have  heard  the  word,  and  we  have  received  the  sacrament,  &c.  It 
is  no  matter  for  that,  how  stands  the  bent  of  your  souls  ?  what  hath  your 
obedience  been  ?  This  is  that  God  looks  after.  Every  man  can  talk  of  reli- 
gion, but  where  is  the  practice  ?  A  little  obedience  is  worth  all  the  discourse 
and  contemplation  in  the  world ;  for  that  serves  but  to  justify  God's  damning 
of  us,  if  we  hve  not  answerably.  Value  not  yourselves,  therefore,  by  your 
outward  profession,  neither  judge  of  your  estate  in  grace,  by  the  knowledge 
of  good  things.  Nothing  but  the  power  of  godliness,  expressed  in  our  Hves, 
will  yield  real  comfort  in  the  day  of  trial. 

Our  obedience  must  be  free.  And  we  should  labour  that  our  obedience 
be  '  free  and  cheerful,'  Ps.  ex.  3;  always  upon  the  wing,  as  we  say,  for  that 
is  evangelical  obedience.  God's  people  under  the  gospel  are  a  voluntary, 
ready  people,  '  zealous  of  good  works,'  Tit.  ii.  14.  Oh  !  beloved,  did  we 
but  consider  what  God  hath  done  for  us  here,  and  what  he  means  to  do  for 
us  in  another  world,  how  would  our  hearts  be  enlarged  in  duty  to  his 
majesty  !  Did  we  but  consider  of  his  inestimable  love  in  the  Lord  Christ, 
pardoniag  such  wretches  as  we  are,  and  not  only  so,  but  accepting  our  ser- 
vice and  us  to  life  everlasting ;  taking  us  from  the  lowest  miseiy  to  the 
highest  happiness ;  from  the  lowest  hell  to  the  highest  heaven ;  of  traitors 
*  That  is,  '  government.' — C. 


894  THE  UNGODLY' S  MISERY. 

to  be  sons ;  of  slaves  to  be  heirs  of  the  kingdom,  &c.  Oh !  did  we  but 
seriously  consider  and  beUeve  these  things,  how  would  they  warm  our 
hearts,  and  make  us  pliable  and  constant  to  every  good  work  and  way ! 

The  apostle  having  tasted  the  sweet  favour  of  God  in  Christ,  might  well 
use  it  as  a  motive  to  quicken  others.  *  I  beseech  you  by  the  tender  mer- 
cies of  Christ,'  &c.,  Eom.  xii.  1.  He  knew  this  was  a  powerful  argument, 
and  if  that  wrought  not  upon  men's  hearts,  nothing  would. 

Let  our  obedience,  therefore,  be  cheerful ;  for  now  we  are  not  in  the  old- 
ness  of  the  letter.  We  have  not  a  legal  covenant  since  Christ's  coming,  but 
we  serve  God  '  in  the  newness  of  the  Spirit,'  Eom.  vii.  6 ;  that  is,  consider- 
ing that  the  Spirit  is  given  in  more  plenty  since  his  ascension,  we  should  be 
more  spiritual  and  heavenly  in  our  service  of  God.  Considering  that  our 
Head  is  already  entered  into  that  high  and  holy  place,  and  we,  ere  long, 
shall  be  present  with  him,  having  but  a  spot  of  time  to  pass  here  below, 
how  ready  and  zealous  should  we  be  in  obedience  to  God's  wiU !  and  not 
Buffer  a  heavy  lumpishness  and  deadness  of  spirit  to  seize  upon  us  in  holy 
performances.     But  I  hasten  to  the  second  amplification. 


THE  DIFFICULTY  OF  SALVATION. 


SERMON  III. 

If  the  righteous  scarcely  be  saved,  where  shall  the  wicked  and  ungodly  appear  f 

—1  Pet.  IV.  18. 

What  is  meant  here  by  righteousness,  to  wit,  a  man  endued  with  evangelical 
righteousness.  By  *  righteous'  here,  is  meant  that  evangelical  righteous- 
ness which  we  have  in  the  state  of  the  gospel,  namely,  the  righteousness  of 
Christ  imputed  to  us ;  for  Christ  himself  being  ours,  his  obedience  and  all 
that  he  hath  becomes  ours  also  ;  and  whosoever  partaketh  of  this  righteous- 
ness which  is  by  faith,  hath  also  a  righteousness  of  sanctification  accom- 
panying the  same,  wrought  in  his  soul  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  whereby  his 
sinful  nature  is  changed  and  made  holy  ;  for  '  if  any  man  be  in  Christ,  he 
is  a  new  creature,'  2  Cor.  v.  17.  The  same  Spirit  that  assures  us  of  our 
interest  in  Christ,  purifies  and  cleanseth  our  hearts,  and  worketh  a  new  life 
in  us,  opposite  to  our  life  in  the  first  Adam;  from  whence  flows  new  works 
of  holiness  and  obedience  throughout  our  whole  conversation.  There  must 
be  an  inward  inherent  righteousness,  before  there  can  be  any  works  of  right- 
eousness. An  instrument  must  be  set  in  tune  before  it  will  make  music ;  so 
the  Spirit  of  God  must  first  work  a  holy  frame  and  disposition  of  heart  in 
us,  before  we  can  bring  forth  any  fruits  of  holiness  in  our  lives.  For  we 
commend  not  the  works  of  grace  as  we  do  the  works  of  art,  but  refer  them 
to  the  worker.  All  that  flows  from  the  Spirit  of  righteousness  are  works 
of  righteousness.  When  the  soul  submits  itself  to  the  spii'it,  and  the  body 
to  the  soul,  then  things  come  off"  kindly.  Take  a  man  that  is  righteous  by 
the  Spu-it  of  God  :  he  is  righteous  in  all  relations ;  he  gives  every  one  his 
due ;  he  gives  God  his  due  ;  spuitual  worship  is  set  up  in  his  heart  above 
all ;  he  gives  Christ  his  due  by  affiance  in  him ;  he  gives  the  holy  angels 
their  due,  by  considering  he  is  always  in  their  presence,  that  their  eye  is 
upon  him  in  every  action  he  doth,  and  every  duty  he  performs  ;  the  poor 
have  their  due  from  him ;  those  that  are  in  authority  have  their  due.  If  he 
be  under  any,  he  gives  them  reverence  and  obedience,  &c. ;  '  he  will  owe 
nothing  to  any  man  but  love,'  Eom.  xiii.  8 ;  he  is  righteous  in  aU  his  con- 
versation ;  he  is  a  vessel  prepared  for  every  good  work.  I  deny  not  but 
he  may  err  in  some  particular ;  that  is  nothing  to  the  purpose.  I  speak 
of  a  man  as  he  is  in  the  disposition  and  bent  of  his  heart  to  God  and  good- 


896  THE  DIFFICULTY  OF  SALVATION. 

ness,  and  so  there  is  a  thread  of  a  righteous  course,  that  runs  along  through 
his  whole  conversation.  The  constant  tenure  of  his  life  is  righteous.  He 
hungers  and  thirsts  after  righteousness,  and  labours  to  be  more  and  more 
righteous  still,  every  way,  both  in  justification,  that  he  may  have  a  clearer 
evidence  of  that,  as  also  in  sanctification,  that  he  may  have  more  of  the  '  new 
creature'  formed  in  him,  that  so  he  may  serve  God  better  and  better  all  his 
days.  Now,  if  this  man  shall  scarcely  be  saved,  where  shall  the  sinner  and 
ungodly  appear  ?    Where  you  have  two  branches. 

1.  The  righteous  shall  scarcely  be  saved. 

2.  The  terrible  end  of  sinners  and  ungodly,  where  shaU  they  appear  ?  &c. 
Now  in  that  the  righteous  man  thus  described  by  me  shall  scarcely  be  saved, 

consider  two  things. 

1.  That  the  righteous  shall  be  saved. 

2.  That  they  shall  scarcely  be  saved. 

The  righteous  are  saved.  What  do  I  say  ?  the  righteous  shall  be  saved  ? 
He  is  saved  already.  '  This  day  is  salvation  come  to  thine  house,'  saith  Christ 
to  Zaccheus,  Luke  xix.  9.  '  We  are  saved  by  faith,  and  are  now  set  in  heavenly 
places  together  with  him,'  Eph.  ii.  6.  We  have  a  title  and  interest  to  happi- 
ness already.  There  remains  only  a  passage  to  the  crown  by  good  works. 
We  do  not,  as  the  papists  do,  work  to  merit  that  we  have  not,  but  we  do 
that  we  do  in  thankfulness  for  what  we  have.  Because  we  know  we  are  in 
the  state  of  salvation ;  therefore  we  will  shew  our  thankfulness  to  God  in  the 
course  of  our  lives. 

How  can  we  miss  of  salvation  when  we  are  saved  already  ?  Christ  our 
head  being  in  heaven,  wiU  draw  his  body  after  him.  What  should  hinder  us  ? 
The  world  ?  Alas  !  *  we  have  that  faith  in  us, '  which  overcometh  the  world,' 
1  John  V.  4.  As  for  the  flesh,  you  know  what  the  apostle  saith,  *  We  are 
not  under  the  law,  but  under  grace,'  Rom.  vi.  14.  The  spirit  in  us  always 
lusteth  against  the  flesh,  and  subdues  it  by  little  and  httle ;  neither  can 
Satan  nor  the  gates  of  hell  prevail  against  us ;  for  the  grace  we  have  is 
stronger  than  all  enemies  against  us. 

God  the  Father  is  our  Father  in  Christ,  and  his  love  and  gifts  are  without 
repentance,  Rom.  xi.  29.  When  once  we  are  in  the  state  of  salvation,  '  he 
will  preserve  us  by  faith  to  salvation,'  1  Pet.  i.  5  ;  and  we  are  knit  to  God 
the  Son,  who  will  lose  none  of  his  members.  The  marriage  with  Christ  is  an 
everlasting  union  ;  whom  he  loves,  '  he  loves  to  the  end,'  John  xiii.  1.  As 
for  God  the  Holy  Ghost,  saith  Christ,  '  I  will  send  the  Comforter,  and  he  shall 
be  with  you  to  the  end,'  John  vi,  14,  16.  The  blessed  Spirit  of  God  never 
departs  where  he  once  takes  up  his  lodging.  There  is  no  question,  there- 
fore, of  the  salvation  of  the  righteous  ;  they  are,  as  it  were,  saved  already. 

Use.  Let  this  teach  us  thus  much,  that  in  all  the  changes  and  alterations 
which  the  faith  of  man  is  subject  unto,  he  is  sure  of  one  thing :  all  the 
troubles,  and  all  the  enemies  of  the  world  shall  not  hinder  his  salvation. 
'  If  it  be  possible  the  elect  should  be  deceived,'  Mat.  xxiv.  24  ;  but  it  is  not 
possible.  0  what  a  comfort  is  this,  that  in  the  midst  of  all  the  oppositions 
andplottings  of  men  and  devils,  yet  notwithstanding,  somewhat  we  have,  that 
is  not  in  the  power  of  any  enemy  to  take  from  us,  nor  in  our  own  power  to 
lose,  namely,  our  salvation.  Set  this  against  any  evil  whatsoever,  and  it 
swallows  up  all.  Put  case  a  man  were  subject  to  an  hundred  deaths,  one 
after  another,  what  are  all  these  to  salvation  ?  Put  case  a  man  were  in  such 
grief,  that  he  wept  tears  of  blood ;  alas  !  in  the  day  of  salvation  all  tears  shall 

*  This  is  one  of  many  instances,  in  Sibbes,  of  a  peculiar  use  of  the  interjection 
*  Alas !'     See  also  last  line  of  this  page. — G. 


THE  DIFFICULTY  OF  SALVATION.  897 

be  wiped  from  his  eyes.  Set  this,  I  shall  be  saved,  against  any  misery  you  can 
imagine,  and  it  will  unspeakably  comfort  and  revive  the  soul  beyond  all. 

Ohj.  But  it  is  here  said,  he  shall  scarcely  he  saved. 

Am.  This  is  not  a  word  of  doubt,  but  of  difficulty.  It  is  not  a  word  of 
doubt  of  the  event,  whether  he  shall  be  saved  or  no — there  is  no  doubt  at 
all  of  that — but  it  is  a  word  of  difficulty  ia  regard  of  the  way  and  passage 
thither.  So  it  is  here  taken,  which  leads  me  to  a  second  point,  that  the  way 
to  come  to  salvation  is  full  of  difficulties. 

1.  Because  there  is  much  ado  to  get  Lot  out  of  Sodom,  to  get  Israel  out  of 
Egypt.  It  is  no  easy  matter  to  get  a  man  out  of  the  state  of  corruption.  0  the 
sweetness  of  sin  to  an  unregenerate  man  !  0  how  it  cuts  his  very  heart  to 
think  what  pleasures  and  what  profits,  and  what  friends,  and  what  esteem 
amongst  men  he  must  part  withal !  What  ado  is  there  to  pull  him  out  of  the 
kingdom  of  Satan,  wherein  the  strong  man,  Luke  xi.  21,  held  him  before  ! 

2.  Again,  it  is  hard  in  regard  of  the  sin  that  continually  cleaves  to  them 
in  this  world,  which  doth,  as  it  were,  shackle  them,  and  compass  them 
about  in  all  their  performances.  '  They  would  do  well,  but  sin  is  at  hand,* 
Kom.  vii.  21,  ready  to  hinder  and  stop  them  in  good  courses;  so  that  they 
cannot  serve  God  with  such  cheerfulness  and  readiness  as  they  desire  to  do. 
Eveiy  good  work  they  do,  it  is,  as  it  were,  pulled  out  of  the  fire  ;  they  can- 
not pray,  but  the  flesh  resists ;  they  cannot  sufi"er,  but  the  flesh  draws 
back.  In  all  their  doing  and  sufiering  they  carry  an  enemy  in  their  own 
bosoms  that  hinders  them.  Beloved,  this  [is]  no  small  affliction  to  God's 
people.  How  did  this  humble  Paul,  when  no  other  affliction  lay  upon 
him  !  *  0  wretched  man  that  I  am,  who  shall  deliver  me  from  this  body 
of  death  ? '  Rom.  vii.  24.  It  was  more  troublesome  to  him  than  aU  his 
irons  and  pressures  whatsoever. 

3.  Besides,  it  is  a  hard  matter  in  regard  of  Satan ;  for  he  is  a  great  enemy 
to  the  peace  of  God's  childi'en.  When  they  are  once  pulled  out  of  his  king- 
dom, he  sends  floods  of  reproaches  and  persecutions  after  them,  and  pre- 
sently sends  hue  and  cry,  as  Pharaoh  after  the  Israelites.  Oh,  how  it  spites 
him !  What !  shall  a  piece  of  di:^t  and  clay  be  so  near  God,  when  I  am 
tumbled  out  of  heaven  myself!  Though  I  cannot  hinder  him  from  salvation, 
I  will  hinder  his  peace  and  joy;  he  shall  not  have  heaven  upon  earth.* 
1  will  make  him  walk  as  vmcomfortably  as  I  can.  Thus  the  devil,  as  he  is 
a  malignant  creatm*e,  full  of  envy  against  God's  poor  saints,  so  he  is  a  bitter 
enemy  of  the  peace  and  comfort  which  they  enjoy ;  and  therefore  troubles 
them  with  many  temptations  from  himself  and  his  instruments,  to  interrupt 
their  peace,  and  make  the  hearts  of  God's  people  sad  all  he  can. 

4.  Then,  by  reason  of  great  discouragements  and  ill-usage  which  they  find 
in  the  world  from  wicked  men,  who  are  the  devil's  pipes,  led  with  his  spirit 
to  vex  and  trouble  the  meek  of  the  earth  ;  for,  though  they  think  not  of  it, 
Satan  is  in  their  devilish  natures  ;  he  joins  and  goes  along  with  their  spirits 
in  hating  and  opposing  the  saints  of  God ;  for,  indeed,  what  hurt  could  they 
do  but  by  his  instigation?  How  are  good  men  despised  in  the  world! 
How  are  they  made  the  only  buttf  to  shoot  at!  Alas!  beloved,  we  should 
rather  encom-age  men  in  the  ways  of  holiness.  We  see  the  number  of  such 
as  truly  fear  God  is  but  small,  soon  reckoned  up.  They  are  but  as  grapes 
after  the  vintage,  or  a  few  berries  after  the  shalang ;  one  of  a  city,  two  of  a 
tribe,  Micah  vii.  1,  Jer.  iii.  14.  They  have  little  encouragements  from  any, 
but  discouragements  on  aU  sides. 

*  '  Heaven  upon  earth'  is  the  title  of  one  of  Thomas  Brooks's  most  Sibbea-liko 
works. — Qt  t  That  is,  '  a  mark.' — G. 


898  THE  DIFFICULTY  OF  SALVATION. 

5.  Besides  this,  scandal  makes  it  a  hard  matter  to  be  saved;  to  see  evil 
courses  and  evil  persons  flourish  and  countenanced  in  the  world.  Oh,  it 
goes  to  the  heart  of  God's  people,  and  makes  them  stagger  at  God's  pro- 
vidence. It  is  a  bitter  temptation,  and  shakes  the  faith  of  holy  men,  as  we 
see,  Ps.  Ixxiii.,  Jer.  xii.  1,  2.  Again,  it  makes  the  heart  of  a  good  Christian 
bleed  within  him,  to  see  scandals  arise  from  professors  of  the  gospel,  when 
they  are  not  so  watchful  as  they  should  be,  but  bring  a  reproach  upon  re- 
ligion by  their  licentious  lives. 

Yea,  God's  children  suffer  much  for  their  friends,  whose  wicked  courses 
are  laid  to  their  charge,  and  sometimes  even  by  their  friends ;  for  whilst 
they  live  here,  the  best  of  all  are  subject  to  some  weakness  or  other,  which 
causeth  even  those  that  are  our  encouragers,  through  jealousy  or  corruption, 
one  way  or  another,  to  dishearten  and  trouble  us  in  the  way  to  heaven. 

6.  This,  likewise,  makes  the  way  difficult ;  we  are  too  apt  to  offend  God 
daily,  giving  him  just  cause  to  withdraw  his  Spirit  of  comfort  from  us,  which 
makes  us  go  mourning  all  the  day  long ;  wanting  those  sweet  refreshments  of 
spiritual  joy  and  peace  we  had  before.  The  more  comfort  God's  child  hath 
in  communion  with  God,  the  more  he  is  grieved  when  he  wants  it.  When 
Christ  wanted  the  sweet  solace  of  his  Father  upon  the  cross,  how  did  it  trouble 
him !  '  My  God,  my  God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  ? '  Mat.  xxvii.  46. 
How  did  he  sweat  water  and  blood  in  the  garden,  Luke  xxii.  44,  when  he 
felt  but  a  little  while  his  Father's  displeasure  for  sin !  Thus  is  it  with  all 
God's  children;  they  are  of  Christ's  mind  in  their  spiritual  desertions. 

And  when  they  have  gotten  a  little  grace,  how  difficult  is  it  to  keep  it !  to  keep 
ourselves  in  the  sense  of  God's  love !  to  manage  our  Christian  state  aright !  to 
walk  worthy  of  the  gospel,  that  God  may  still  do  us  good,  and  delight  to  be 
present  with  us  !  What  a  great  difficulty  is  it  to  be  always  striving  against 
the  stream,  and  when  we  are  cast  back  to  get  forward  stiU,  and  not  be  dis- 
couraged till  we  come  to  the  haven  !  None  comes  to  heaven  but  they  know 
how  they  come  there. 

Why  God  will  have  the  righteous  with  such  difficulty  saved.  Now,  God  will 
have  it  thus  to  sweeten  heaven  unto  us.  After  a  conflicting  life  peace  is  wel- 
come ;  heaven  is  heaven  indeed  after  trouble.  We  can  relish  it  then.  Be- 
cause God  will  discard  hypocrites  in  this  life,  who  take  up  so  much  of  religion 
as  stands  with  their  ease  and  credit  in  the  world,  avoiding  every  difficulty 
which  accompanies  godliness,  but,  so  they  may  swim  two  ways  at  once,  go  on 
in  their  lusts  still  and  be  religious  withal.  This  they  approve  of.  Therefore, 
God  will  have  it  a  hard  matter  to  be  saved,  to  frustrate  the  vain  hopes  of  such 
wretches.    Alas !  it  is  an  easy  matter  to  be  an  hypocrite,  but  not  to  live  godly. 

Use.  If  the  righteous  be  saved  with  much  ado,  then  never  enter  upon  the 
profession  of  religion  with  vain  hopes  of  ease  and  pleasure,  that  it  shall  be 
thus  and  thus  with  thee,  &c.  Herein  thou  dost  but  delude  thy  own  soul, 
for  it  will  prove  otherwise.  Forecast,  therefore,  what  wiU  fall,  and  get  pro- 
vision of  grace  beforehand  to  sustain  thee.  As,  if  a  man  were  to  go  a 
dangerous  journey,  he  provides  himself  of  weapons  and  cordials,  and  all  the 
encouragements  he  can,  lest  he  should  faint  in  the  way ;  whereas  he  that 
walks  for  his  pleasure  provides  nothing.  He  cares  not  for  his  weapon  or 
his  cloak,  because  if  a  storm  comes  he  can  run  under  shelter  or  into  a 
house,  &c.  He  that  makes  religion  a  recreation  can  walk  a  turn  or  two  for 
his  pleasure,  and  when  any  difficulty  arises  can  retire  and  draw  in  his  horns 
again.  An  hypocrite  hath  his  reservations  and  politic  ends,  and  therefore 
what  needs  he  any  great  provision  to  support  him,  when  he  knows  how  to 
wind  out  of  trouble  well  enough,  rather  than  to  stand  courageously  to  any- 


THE  DIFFIOULTY  OF  SALVATION.  899 

thing.  But  a  true  Christian,  that  makes  it  the  main  work  of  his  life  to 
please  God,  arms  himself  for  the  worst  that  can  befaU  him,  and  will  be  saved 
through  thick  or  thin,  smooth  or  rough,  whatsoever  comes  on  it.  So  God 
wiU  save  his  soul,  he  cares  not,  but  rejoiceth,  with  Paul,  if  by  any  means  he 
can  attain  the  resurrection  of  the  dead,  Phil.  iii.  11,  by  any  means,  it  is 
no  matter  what.  Let  fire  and  fagot  meet  with  him,  yet  he  is  resolved  not  to 
retire  for  any  trouble  or  persecution  whatsoever  that  stands  between  him 
and  happiness.  He  is  purposely  armed  to  break  through  every  opposition 
to  the  best  things,  and  whatever  may  separate  his  soul  from  the  favour  of 
God.  I  beseech  you,  beloved,  think  of  these  things,  and  let  it  be  your  wis- 
dom to  make  the  way  to  heaven  as  easy  as  you  can.     To  this  end, 

1.  Beg  the  Spirit  of  Christ.  You  know  the  Holy  Spirit  is  fuU  of  life  and 
strength ;  it  is  a  Spirit  of  light  and  comfort  and  whatsover  is  good.  The 
Spirit  of  God  is  Uke  the  wind ;  as  it  is  subtle  iu  operation  and  invisible,  so 
it  is  strong  and  mighty,  it  bears  all  before  it.  Oh  !  therefore,  get  this  blessed 
Spirit  to  enlighten  thee,  to  quicken  thee,  to  support  thee,  &c.,  and  it  will 
carry  thy  soul  courageously  along,  above  aU  oppositions  and  discouragements 
whatsoever  in  the  way  to  happiness. 

2.  Get  likewise  the  particular  graces  of  the  Spirit,  which  will  much  cheer 
thee  in  thy  Christian  course.  Above  all,  labour  for  a  spirit  of  humiHty.  An 
humble  man  is  fit  to  do  or  sufier  anything.  A  proud  man  is  hke  a  gouty 
hand,  or  a  swelled  aim,  unfit  for  any  Christian  performance ;  he  is  not  in  a 
state  to  do  good  ;  but  an  humble  man  is  thankful  that  God  will  honour  him 
so  far  as  to  let  him  sufier  for  the  cause  of  Christ.  He  is  wondrous  empty 
and  vile  in  his  own  eyes,  and  admires*  why  God  should  reserve  such  infinite 
matters  for  so  base  a  worm  as  he  is. 

When  Christ  would  have  us  take  his  yoke  upon  us,  he  advises  us  '  to 
learn  of  him  to  be  meek  and  lowly,'  &c.,  Mat.  xi.  29.  Some  might  say, 
This  yoke  is  heavy,  it  will  pinch  me  and  gall  me.  No,  saith  our  Saviour, 
it  shall  be  very  light  and  easy.  But  how  shall  I  get  it  to  be  so  ?  Why !  get 
but  an  humble  and  meek  spirit,  and  that  wiU  bring  rest  to  your  souls. 

3.  Again,  labour  for  a  spirit  of  love.  '  Love  is  strong  as  death,'  Cant, 
viii.  6 ;  it  will  carry  us  through  all.  The  love  of  Christ  in  the  martyrs, 
when  the  fire  was  kindled  about  them,  made  them  despise  all  torments 
whatsoever.  This  will  warm  our  hearts  and  make  us  go  cheerftdly  to  work. 
Let  but  a  spirit  of  love  be  kindled  in  God's  child,  and  it  is  no  matter  what 
he  suffers ;  cast  him  into  the  fire,  cast  him  into  the  dungeon,  into  prison, 
whatsoever  it  be,  he  hath  that  kindled  in  his  heart,  which  will  make  him 
digest  anything.  We  see  the  disciples,  when  they  had  the  Spirit  of  Christ 
within  them  to  warm  their  hearts,  what  cared  they  for  whipping,  or  stocks, 
&c.  ?  You  see  even  base,  carnal  love  wiU  make  a  man  endure  poverty,  dis- 
grace, what  not !  and  shall  not  this  fire  that  comes  from  heaven,  when  it 
is  once  kindled  in  our  hearts,  prevail  much  more  ?  What  will  make  our  passage 
to  heaven  sweet  if  this  will  not  ?   Nothing  is  grievous  to  a  person  that  loves. 

4.  Exercise  your  hope  likewise..  Set  before  your  eyes  the  crown  and  king- 
dom of  heaven;  those  admirable  things  contained  in  the  word  of  God,  which 
no  tongue  can  express.  Let  hope  feed  upon  these  deUcates;  cast  anchor  in 
heaven,  and  see  if  it  wiU  not  make  thee  go  on  cheerfully  in  a  Christian 
course. 

Faith  will  overcome  the  world ;  all  the  snares  of  prosperity  that  would 
hinder  us  on  the  right  hand.     Faith,  it  presents  things  of  a  higher  nature 
to  the  soul ;  better  than  they.     Faith  likewise  oveicomes  temptations  on  tho 
*  That  is.  '  wonders.' — G. 


400  THE  DIFFICULTY  OF  SALVATION. 

left  hand ;  all  terrors  and  discomforts  whatsoever.  It  considers  these  are 
nothing  to  '  the  terror  of  the  Lord,'  2  Cor.  v.  11.  Therefore  '  faith  is  called 
the  evidence  of  things  not  seen,'  Heb.  xi.  1,  because  it  presents  things  that 
are  absent  as  present  to  the  soul.  If  life  and  happiness  be  once  truly  pre- 
sented to  our  hearts,  what  can  aU  the  world  do  to  hinder  our  passage  thither  ? 

5.  Lastly,  we  should  much  endeavour  the  mortification  of  our  lusts;  for 
what  is  it  that  makes  the  way  to  heaven  irksome  unto  us  ?  Is  it  not  this 
corrupt  and  proud  flesh  of  ours,  which  will  endure  nothing,  no,  not  the 
weight  of  a  straw,  but  is  aU  for  ease  and  quiet,  &c.  ?  It  is  not  duty  which 
makes  our  way  difficult,  '  for  it  was  meat  and  drink  to  Christ,  to  do  the  will 
of  his  Father,'  John  iv.  34. 

Quest.  Why  is  it  not  so  with  us  ? 

Ans.  Because  he  was  born  without  sin.  When  Satan  came  he  found 
nothing  of  his  own  in  him ;  but  when  he  solicits  us,  he  finds  a  correspon- 
dency betwixt  our  corrupt  hearts  and  himself,  whereby  having  intelligence 
what  we  haunt,  and  what  we  love,  he  will  be  sure  to  molest  us.  The  less 
we  have  of  the  works  of  Satan  in  us,  the  less  wiU  be  our  trouble ;  and  the 
more  we  do  the  will  of  God,  and  strive  against  our  corruptions,  the  more 
will  be  our  comfort.  This  will  make  holy  duties  delightful  to  us ;  but  if  we 
favour  and  cherish  corruption,  it  will  make  religion  harsh.  For  the  ways  of 
wisdom  are  ways  of  pleasure  in  themselves,  and  to  the  regenerate,  &c.  I 
come  now  to  the  second  clause. 

'  Where  shall  the  sinner  and  ungodly  appear?' 

What  he  means  by  sinner.  By  sinner  he  means  him  that  makes  a  trade 
of  sin.  As  we  say,  a  man  is  of  such  a  trade,  because  he  is  daily  at  work  of 
it,  and  lives  by  it,  so  a  man  is  a  trader  in  sin,  that  lives  in  corrupt  courses. 
For  it  is  not  one  act  that  denominates  a  sinner,  but  the  constant  practice 
of  his  life. 

Now  this  question.  Where  shall  the  ungodly  appear  ?  implies  a  strong 
denial.  He  shall  be  able  to  appear  nowhere ;  especially  in  these  three  times. 

1.  In  the  day  of  2n(blic  calamity,  when  God's  judgments  are  abroad  in  the 
world.  The  wicked  are  as  chaff  before  the  wind,  as  wax  before  the  sun, 
as  stubble  before  the  fire.  When  God  comes  to  deal  with  a  company  of 
graceless  wretches,  how  will  he  consume  and  scatter  them,  and  sweep  them 
away  as  dung  from  the  face  of  the  earth !  he  wiU  universally  make  a  rid- 
dance of  them  at  once.  Where  shall  a  Nabal  stand  when  judgment  comes 
upon  him  ?  1  Sam.  xxv.  37.  Alas !  his  heart  is  become  a  stone.  Where  shall 
Belshazzar  appear  when  he  sees  the  handwriting  upon  the  wall  ?  Dan.  v. 
Oh  how  the  wicked  tremble  and  quake  when  God  comes  to  judge  them  in 
this  world,  though  they  were  a  terror  to  others  before ! 

2.  But  where  shall  they  stand  in  the  hour  of  death?  when  the  world  can 
hold  them  no  longer ;  when  friends  shall  forsake  them ;  when  God  will  not 
receive  them ;  when  heU  is  ready  to  devour  them,  &c. 

3.  And  lastly,  where  shall  the  sinner  appear  at  the  day  of  judgment,  that  great 
and  terrible  day  of  account,  when  they  shall  see  all  the  world  in  a  combus- 
tion round  about  them,  and  the  Lord  Jesus  coming  in  flaming  fire,  '  with 
his  mighty  angels,  to  take  vengeance  on  such  as  obey  not  the  gospel  ? ' 
2  Thess.  i.  8.  How  will  they  then  call  for  '  the  mountains  to  cover  them, 
and  the  hills  to  fall  upon  them,  to  hide  them  fi-om  the  face  of  him  that  sitteth 
on  the  throne,  and  from  the  wrath  of  the  Lamb,'  &c..  Rev.  vi.  16.  Beloved, 
I  beseech  you,  let  the  meditation  of  these  things  sink  deep  into  your  hearts, 
dwell  upon  them,  remember  that  they  are  matters  which  nearly  concern  your 
soul,  and  no  vain  words,  touching  you  and  your  welfare. 


THE  SAINT'S  HIDING-PLACE  IN  THE  EVIL 

DAY.* 


SEEMON  rV. 


Wherefore  let  them  that  suffer  according  to  the  will  of  God  commit  their  souh 
to  him  in  well-doing,  as  to  a  faithful  Creator. — 1  Pet.  IV.  19. 

Though  divinity  be  clear  in  other  differences  from  carnal  or  natural  rea- 
sons, yet  it  hath  homogeneal  reasons  and  grounds  of  its  own,  whence  come 
inferences  as  uatm-al  as  for  the  tree  to  bear  fi'uit,  or  the  sun  to  fhine  ;  so 
upon  the  foimer  divine  grounds  (for  it  is  a  matter  of  suffering  wherein  we 
must  have  pure  divinity  to„ support  our  souls),  the  apostle  comes  to  bring  a 
spiritual  inference  suitable  to  the  same  in  the  words  read  unto  you.  Where- 
fore, concluding  all  to  be  true  that  was  said  before,  let  them  that  suffer,  &c. 
Wherein  consider,  1.  That  the  state  and  condition  of  God's  children  is  to 
suffer.  2.  The  dispensation  of  that  suffering,  they  suffer  not  at  all  adven- 
tures, but  according  to  the  ivill  of  God.  3.  Their  duty  in  this  estate,  namely, 
to  commit  the  keeping  of  their  souls  to  God. 

In  the  duty  we  have  these  particulars  comprehended: — 1.  An  action,  to 
commit.  2.  An  object,  what  we  must  commit,  the  soul.  3.  The  person  to 
whom,  to  God.  4.  The  manner,  in  ivell-doing.  Lastly.  The  reason  which 
should  move  us  hereunto,  imphed  in  these  words,  as  unto  a  faithful  Creator. 
Whatsoever  may  support  the  doubting  of  a  godly  man  in  any  trouble,  and  en- 
force upon  him  this  duty  of  committing  his  soul  to  God,  is  briefly  comprised 
in  this,  that  God  stands  in  that  near  relation  of  a  Creator,  yea,  of  a  faithful 
Creator,  to  us.     This  is  the  scope  of  the  words. 

Obs.  1.  That  the  state  of  God's  children  is  to  sxffer,  yea,  to  suffer  of  God ; 
for  sometimes  he  seems  to  be  an  enemy  to  his  dearest  servants,  as  unto  Job. 
But  chiefly  they  are  in  a  militant  estate  and  condition  here. 

1.  Why  God's  children  must  suffer  here.  Because  they  live  among  those 
that  they  cannot  but  suffer  from,  wheresoever  they  hve.  Suppose  they  hve 
among  Christians,  yet  there  are  many  Chi'istians  in  name  that  are  not  so  in 
deed.  There  hath  been  secret  undenniners  in  all  ages ;  and  what  else  may 
they  look  for  but  suffering  from  these  ?     All  that  ever  truly  feared  God  and 

*  This  title  of  tlie  present  sermon,  which  is  taken  from  the  reprint  in  the  '  Saint's 
Cordials,'  is  preferred,  to  that  placed  over  it  in  the  original  volume,  viz.,  '  The  Saints 
Safety  in  Evil  Times,'  inasmuch  as  at  page  297,  seq.,  other  two  bear  this  heading. — G. 

VOL.  I.  C  G 


402         '  THE  saint's  hiding-place  in  the  evil  day. 

made  conscience  of  their  ways  have  found  afflictions  among  false  brethren. 
It  was  never  heard  of  that  a  sheep  should  pursue  a  wolf. 

2.  They  must  suffer  also  in  regard  of  themselves ;  for  the  truth  is,  the 
best  of  us  all  have  many  lusts  to  be  subdued,  and  a  great  deal  of  corruption 
to  be  purged  out,  before  we  can  come  to  heaven,  that  pure  and  holy  place 
into  which  no  unclean  thing  can  enter,  Eev.  xxi.  27.  Though  a  garden  be 
never  so  fruitful,  yet  after  a  shower  it  will  need  weeding.  So,  after  long 
peace,  the  church  of  God  gathers  soil,  and  needs  cleansing. 

Ohj.  But  some  carnal  wretch  will  say,  I  thank  God  I  never  suffered  in 
my  life,  but  have  enjoyed  peace  and  prosperity,  and  my  heart's  content  in 
everything. 

Ans.  In  the  best  estate  there  will  be  suffering  one  way  or  other.  Then, 
suspect  thyself  to  be  in  a  bad  estate,  for  every  true  Christian  suffers  in  one 
kind  or  other,  either  from  without  or  within.  Sometimes  God's  children 
are  troubled  more  with  corruption  than  with  affliction ;  at  other  times  their 
peace  is  troubled  both  with  coiTuption  within  and  with  affliction  without; 
at  the  best,  they  have  sufferings  of  sjTnpathy.  Shall  the  members  of  Christ 
suffer  in  other  countries,  and  we  profess  ourselves  to  be  living  members,  and 
yet  not  sympathise  with  them  ?  We  must  be  conformable  to  our  Head 
before  we  can  come  to  heaven.  But  the  dispensation  of  our  suffering  is 
according  to  the  will  of  God,  where  note  two  things. 

1.  That  it  is  God's  will  we  should  suffer. 

2.  Whe7i  ive  siffer  ive  suffer  according  to  his  will. 

To  pass  briefly  over  these,  as  not  being  the  thing  I  aim  at, 

God's  will  concerning  our  suffering  is  pennissive  in  respect  of  those  that 
do  us  haiTu;  but  in  regard  of  our  patient  endm-ing  injuries,  it  is  his  ap- 
proving and  commanding  will.  We  are  enjoined  to  suffer,  and  they  are  per- 
mitted to  wrong  us. 

Ohj.  It  seems,  then,  there  is  some  excuse  for  those  that  persecute  the  saints. 
They  do  but  according  to  God's  will :  and  if  it  be  so,  who  dares  speak  against 
them? 

Ans.  It  is  not  God's  commanding  will,  but  his  sufiering  will.  He  useth 
their  malice  for  his  own  ends.  God  lets  the  rein  loose  upon  their  necks. 
As  a  man  is  said  to  set  a  dog  upon  another  when  he  unlooseth  his  chain,  so 
God  is  said  to  command  them  when  he  lets  them  loose  to  do  mischief. 
They  are  full  of  malice  themselves,  which  God  useth  as  physicians  do  their 
poison  to  cure  poison.  God  and  they  go  two  contrary  ways,  as  a  man  in  a 
ship  walks  one  way,  but  is  carried  another.  In  the  death  of  Christ  the  wiU 
of  Judas  and  the  rest  went  one  way,  and  God's  will  another.  So,  in  all  our 
sufferings,  when  God  useth  wicked  men,  their  will  is  destructive  and  hostile, 
but  God's  will  is  clean  otherwise,  aiming  at  the  good  of  his  people  in  all 
this.  Nebuchadnezzar  did  the  will  of  God  in  carrying  the  peojjle  captive. 
However,  he  thought  not  so,  Isa.  x.  7.  Every  sinful  wretch  that  offers 
violence  to  the  poor  saints,  imagine  they  do  God  good  service  in  it,  whenas, 
indeed,  they  do  but  execute  the  malice  and  venom  of  their  own  hearts.  In 
the  highest  heavens,  as  they  say  in  philosophy,  the  first  thing  moved  is  by 
a  violent  motion.  The  sun  is  carried  about  the  heavens  violently  against 
its  own  proper  motion,  which  inchnes  to  a  clean  contrary  course.  So  God 
dealeth  with  wicked  men ;  he  carries  them  they  know  not  whither.  They 
are  set  to  do  mischief,  and  God  useth  their  sinful  dispositions  for  his  own 
ends,  which  plainly  shews  that  God  is  without  all  fault,  and  they  without  all 
excuse. 

Obs.  But  observe  further,  that  we  never  suffer  bid  when  God  will.     And, 


THE  saint's  hiding-place  IN  THE  EVIL  DAY.  403 

beloved,  his  will  is  not  that  we  should  always  suffer,  though  generally 
our  estate  be  so  in  one  kind  or  other.  God  is  not  always  chiding,  Ps.  ciii.  9, 
but  hath  times  of  breathing  and  intermission,  which  he  vouchsafes  his 
children  for  their  good.  He  knows  if  we  had  not  some  respite,  some  refresh- 
ment, we  should  soon  be  consumed  and  brought  to  nothing.  *  The  Lord 
knows  whereof  we  are  made,  and  considers  we  are  but  dust,'  Ps.  ciii.  14, 
Therefore  he  saith,  '  Though  for  a  season  you  are  in  heaviness,  yet  rejoice,' 
&c.,  1  Pet.  i.  6. 

And  this  the  Lord  doth  out  of  mercy  to  his  poor  creatures,  that  they 
might  not  sink  before  him,  but  gather  strength  of  grace,  and  be  the  better 
fitted  to  bear  fui'ther  crosses  afterwards.  You  know,  Acts  ix.  31,  after 
Saul's  conversion,  when  he  was  become  a  Paul,  then  the  church  had  rest, 
and  increased  in  the  comforts  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  God  gives  his  people 
pausing  times,  some  lucida  intervalla  (a).  Our  time  of  going  into  trouble  is 
in  God's  hands ;  our  time  of  abiding  trouble  is  in  God's  hands ;  our  time  of 
coming  out  is  in  God's  hands.  As  in  our  callings  he  preserves  our  going 
out  and  our  coming  in,  so  in  every  trouble  that  befalls  us  we  come  in  and 
tarry  there,  and  go  out  of  the  same  when  he  pleaseth.  He  brings  us  to  the 
fire  as  the  goldsmith  puts  his  metals  and  holds  them  there,  till  he  hath  re- 
fined them  and  purged  out  the  dross,  and  then  brings  them  out  again. 
'  Our  times,'  as  David  saith  excellently,  '  are  in  thy  hands,  0  Lord,'  Ps. 
xxxi.  15.  Beloved,  if  our  times  were  in  our  enemies'  hands  we  should 
never  come  out.  If  they  were  in  our  own  hands  we  should  never  stay  in 
trouble,  but  come  out  as  soon  as  we  come  in ;  nay,  we  would  not  come  into 
trouble  at  all  if  we  could  choose.  Beloved,  everything  of  a  Christian  is  dear 
unto  God ;  his  health  is  precious,  his  blood  is  precious ;  especially  precious 
to  the  Lord  is  the  death  of  his  saints,  Ps.  cxvi.  15.  Do  you  think,  there- 
fore, he  will  let  them  suffer  without  his  will  ?  No ;  he  will  have  a  valuable 
consideration  of  all  those  that  are  malignant  persecutors  of  his  people  at 
last.  And  it  is  for  matters  better  than  hfe  that  God  lets  his  childi-en  suffer 
here ;  for,  alas !  this  Hfe  is  but  a  shadow,  as  it  were,  nothing.  God  regards 
us  not  as  we  are  in  this  present  world,  but  as  strangers;  therefore,  he  suffers 
us  to  sacrifice  this  life  upon  better  terms  than  hfe,  or  else  he  would  never 
let  us  suffer  for  his  truth,  and  seal  it  with  our  dearest  blood,  as  many  of  the 
saints  have  done. 

Use.  I  beseech  you,  therefore,  considering  all  our  sufferings  are  by  the 
appointment  and  will  of  God,  let  us  bring  our  souls  to  an  holy  resignation 
unto  his  Majesty,  not  looking  so  much  to  the  grievance  we  are  under  as  to 
the  hand  that  sent  it.  We  should  with  one  eye  consider  the  thing,  with 
another  eye  the  will  of  God  in  the  same.  When  a  man  considers,  I  suffer 
now,  but  it  is  by  the  will  of  God^;  he  puts  me  upon  it,  how  cheerfully  will 
such  an  one  commit  his  soul  to  the  Lord  !  It  is  as  hard  a  matter  to  suffer 
God's  will  as  to  do  his  will.  Passive  obedience  is  as  hard  as  active.  In 
the  active  we  labour  that  what  we  do  may  please  God ;  in  the  passive  we  must 
endeavour  that  what  he  doth  may  please  us.  Our  hearts  are  as  untoward 
to  the  one  as  to  the  other.  Therefore,  let  us  beg  of  God  to  bring  our  wills 
to  the  obedience  of  his  blessed  will  in  everything.  Would  you  have  a 
pattern  of  this  ?  Look  upon  our  blessed  Saviour,  to  whom  we  must  be 
conformable  in  obedience  if  ever  we  will  be  conformable  in  glory.  '  Lo,  I 
come,'  saith  he ;  '  I  am  ready  to  do  thy  will,  0  Lord,'  Heb.  x.  9.  What 
was  the  whole  life  of  Christ  but  a  doing  and  a  suffering  of  God's  will  ? 
'  Behold,  it  is  written  in  the  volume  of  thy  book  that  I  should  do  thy  will,' 
ver.  7,  and  here  I  am  ready  pressed  for  it.     It  should  be,  therefore,  the 


404  THE  saint's  hiding-place  in  the  evil  DAT. 

disposition  of  all  those  that  are  led  by  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  as  all  must  be 
that  hope  to  reign  with  him,  to  be  willing  to  suffer  with  Christ  here,  and  say 
with  him,  Lord,  I  am  here  ready  to  do  and  suffer  whatsoever  thou  requirest ! 
When  once  we  are  brought  to  this,  all  the  quarrel  is  ended  between  God 
and  us. 

I  come  now  to  that  which  I  chiefly  intend,  which  is  the  Christian's  duty. 

Let  him  commit  his  soul  to  God  hi  well-doing.     Wherein  observe, 

1.  The  manner  how  he  must  commit,  in  well-doing. 

2.  What,  his  soid. 

3.  To  whom,  to  God. 

4.  The  reasons  moving,  implied  in  these  words,  as  unto  a  faithful  Creator. 
Now  this  well-doing  must  be  distinguished  into  two  times. 

1.  Before  our  suffering.  When  a  son  of  Belial  shall  offer  violence  to  a 
poor  saint  of  God,  what  a  comfort  is  this,  that  he  suffers  in  well-doing  !  Oh, 
beloved,  we  should  so  cany  ourselves  that  none  might  speak  evil  justly 
against  us,  that  none,  unless  it  were  wrongfully,  might  do  us  hurt.  We  should 
be  in  an  estate  of  well-doing  continually  in  our  general  and  particular  call- 
ings. We  must  not  go  out  of  our  sphere,  but  serve  God  in  our  standings, 
that  if  trouble  comes  it  may  find  us  in  a  way  of  weU-pleasing,  either  doing 
works  of  charity  or  else  the  works  of  our  particular  calling  wherein  God  hath 
set  us.  In  all  that  befalls  thee  look  to  this,  that  thou  suffer  not  as  an  evil 
doer,  1  Pet.  iv.  15. 

2.  So  likewise  in  suffering,  we  must  commit  our  souls  to  God  in  well- 
doing in  a  double  regard. 

1.  We  must  carry  ourselves  generally  ivell  in  all  our  sufferings. 

2.  In  particular,  we  must  do  well  to  them  that  do  us  wrong. 

First,  I  say,  in  affliction  our  carriage  must  be  generally  good  in  respect 
of  God,  by  a  meek  behaviour  under  his  hand,  without  murmuring  against 
him. 

2.  In  regard  of  the  cause  of  God,  that  we  betray  it  not  through  fear  or 
cowardice,  through  base  aims  and  intentions,  &c.,  but  endeavour  to  carry  it 
with  a  good  conscience  in  all  things.  When  we  make  it  clear  by  managing 
anything,  that  we  are  led  with  the  cause  and  conscience  of  our  duty,  it 
works  mightily  upon  them  that  wrong  us.  (1.)  It  wins  those  that  are  in- 
different;  and  (2.)  confounds  the  obstinate,  and  stops  their  mouths.  There- 
fore, let  us  carry  om-selves  well,  not  only  before,  but  in  suffering.  We  may 
not  fight  against  them  with  their  own  weapons,  that  is,  be  malicious  as  they 
are  malicious,  and  rail  as  they  rail.  Beloved,  this  is  as  if  a  man  should 
see  another  drink  poison,  and  he  wiU  diink,  too,  for  company;  he  is 
poisoned  with  malice,  and  thou,  to  revenge  thyself,  wilt  be  poisoned  too. 
What  a  preposterous  com-se  is  this  !  Ought  we  not  rather  to  behave  our- 
selves as  befits  the  cause  of  Christ,  as  becomes  our  Christian  profession} 
and  as  befits  him  whose  children  we  are  ? 

We  should  have  an  eye  to  God,  and  an  eye  to  ourselves,  and  an  eye  to 
others,  and  an  eye  to  the  cause  in  hand ;  so  we  shall  do  well.  We  must 
not  commit  our  souls  to  God  in  idleness,  doing  nothing  at  all,  nor  yet  in 
evil  doing,  but  in  well  doing.  We  must  have  a  care,  if  we  would  suffer 
with  comfort,  not  to  study  how  to  avoid  suffering  by  tricks,  so  to  hurt  the 
cause  of  Christ.  This  is  to  avoid  suffering,  by  sin,  to  leap  out  of  one  dan- 
ger into  another.  Is  not  the  least  evil  of  sin  worse  than  the  greatest  evil 
of  punishment  ?  What  doth  a  man  get  by  pleasing  men,  to  displease  God  ? 
Perhaps  a  little  ease  for  the  present.  Alas  !  what  is  this  to  that  inexpres- 
sible horror  and  despair  which  will  one  day  seize  upon  thy  soul  eternally 


THE  saint's  hiding-place  IN  THE  EYIL  DAY.  405 

for  betraying  the  blessed  cause  and  truth  of  Christ  ?  How  can  we  expect 
God  should  own  us  another  day,  when  we  wUl  not  own  him  in  his  cause, 
and  his  members,  to  stand  for  them  now  ?  Think  on  that  speech  of  our 
Saviom*,  '  Whosoever  shall  be  ashamed  of  me,  or  of  my  words  in  this  adul- 
terous and  sinful  generation,  of  him  shall  the  Son  of  man  be  ashamed  when 
he  cometh  in  the  glory  of  his  Father,'  Mark  viii.  38. 

Therefore,  avoid  not  any  suffering  by  sin.  See  how  blessed  St  Paul 
carried  himself  in  this  case.  '  The  Lord,'  saith  he,  '  hath  delivered  me, 
and  will  deliver  me,'  2  Tim.  iv.  18.  From  what  ?  from  death  ?  No  ifrom 
every  evil  tvork.  What !  wiU  God  keep  him  fi-om  evil  sufferings  ?  No  ;  for 
immediately  after  he  was  put  to  death.  What  then  ?  Why  !  he  will  pre- 
serve me  fi'om  every  evil  work,  that  is,  from  every  sinful  act,  which  may 
hurt  the  cause  of  Christ,  or  blemish  my  profession.  This  was  it  Paul 
chiefly  regarded ;  not  whether  he  wUl  preserve  me  from  death  or  trouble,  I 
leave  that  to  him;  but  this  I  hope  and  trust  to,  that  he  will  preserve  me 
from  every  evil  work  to  his  heavenly  kingdom.  Thus  should  it  be  with 
every  Christian  in  the  cause  of  religion,  or  in  a  cause  of  justice,  &c. ;  for 
there  is  not  any  good  cause  but  it  is  worth  om'  lives  to  stand  in,  if  we  be 
called  to  it.  It  is  necessary  we  should  be  just ;  it  is  not  so  necessary  we 
should  hve  (b).  A  Christian's  main  care  is  how  to  do  well ;  and  if  he  can 
go  on  in  that  com-se,  he  is  a  happy  man. 

Obj.  But  I  cannot  do  well,  but  I  shall  suffer  ill. 

Ans.  Labour,  therefore,  to  carry  thyself  well  in  suffering  evil,  not  only 
in  the  general,  but  even  in  particular,  towards  those  persons  that  do  thee 
wron<^' ;  endeavour  to  re^juia.^  their  ■v.i\,ith  -^vod.  laere  is  a  grent  measure 
of  self-denial  required  to  be  a  Christian,  especially  in  matter  of  revenge,  '  to 
pray  for  them  that  curse  us,  to  do  good  to  them  that  persecute  us,'  &c., 
and  so  '  heap  coals  of  fire  upon  our  enemies'  heads,'  Prov.  xxv.  22,  Rom. 
xii.  20.     How  is  that  ?     There  are — 

1.  Coals  of  conversion. 

2.  Coals  of  confusion. 

How  in  si(ffering  ice  heap  coals  of  fire.  You  know  coals  do  either  melt  or 
consume.  If  they  belong  to  God,  we  shall  heap  coals  of  fire  to  convert 
them,  and  make  them  better  by  our  holy  carriage  in  suffering.  If  they  be 
wicked,  graceless  wretches,  we  shall  heap  coals  of  £Lre  to  consume  them ; 
for  it  will  aggravate  their  just  damnation  when  they  do  ill  to  those  that 
deserve  well  of  them. 

Obj.  Some  will  say,  Christianity  is  a  strange  condition,  that  enforceth 
such  things  upon  men,  that  are  so  contrary  to  nature. 

Ans.  It  is  so,  indeed,  for  we  must  be  new-moulded  before  ever  we  can 
come  to  heaven.  We  must  put  ofi"  our  whole  self;  and  he  is  gone  a  great 
way  in  religion,  that  hath  brought  his  heart  to  this  pass.  None  ever  over- 
came himself  in  these  matters  out  of  reUgious  respects,  but  he  found  a  good 
issue  at  last.  It  is  a  sweet  evidence  of  the  state  of  grace,  none  better, 
when  a  man  can  love  his  veiy  enemies,  and  those  that  have  done  him  most 
wrong ;  it  is  an  argument  that  such  a  man  hath  something  above  natui'e  in 
him.  What  is  above  nature,  if  this  be  not,  for  a  man  to  overcome  himself 
in  this  sweet  appetite  of  revenge  ?  Revenge  is  most  natural  to  a  man  ;  it 
is  as  sugar,  as  the  heathen  saith ;  and  for  a  man  to  overcome  himself  in 
that,  it  argues  the  power  of  grace  and  godliness  in  such  a  one. 

As  Christianity  is  an  excellent  estate,  an  admhable  advancing  of  a  man 
to  a  higher  condition,  so  it  must  not  seem  strange  for  those  that  are  Chris- 
tians to  be  raised  to  a  higher  pitch  of  soul  than  other  men.     See  how  our 


406  THE  saint's  hiding-place  in  the  evil  day. 

Saviour  dealt  in  this  particular,  '.Father,  forgive  them,  they  know  not  what 
they  do,'  Luke  xxiii.  34 ;  and  so  Ukewise  Stephen,  being  led  by  the  same 
Spirit  of  Christ,  desired  God  *  not  to  lay  this  sin  to  their  charge,'  Acts  vii. 
60  ;  and  so  all  the  martyrs  in  the  first  state  of  the  church,  when  the  blood 
of  Christ  was  warm,  and  the  remembrance  of  Christ  was  fresh,  were  wont 
to  pray  for  their  enemies,  committing  their  souls  to  God  in  well  doing. 

The  excellent  victory  of  suffering.  I  beseech  you  let  us  labour  by  aU 
means  possible  to  bring  our  hearts  hereunto.  If  anything  overcome,  this 
will  do  it,  to  suffer  weU.  The  church  of  God  is  a  company  of  men  that 
gain  and  overcome  by  suffering  in  doing  good.  Thus  the  dove  overcomes 
the  eagle,  the  sheep  overcomes  the  wolf,  the  lamb  overcomes  the  lion,  &c. 
It  hath  been  so  from  the  beginning  of  the  world.  Meek  Christians,  by 
suffering  quietly,  have  at  length  overcome  those  that  are  malicious,  and 
have  gained  even  their  very  enemies  to  the  love  of  the  truth.  What  shall 
we  think,  then,  of  the  greatest  part  of  the  world,  who  never  think  of  suffer- 
ing, which  is  the  first  lesson  in  Christianity,  but  study  their  ease  and  con- 
tentment, accounting  the  blessed  martyrs  too  prodigal  of  their  blood,  &c.  ? 

Others  there  are,  who,  if  once  they  come  to  suffer,  presently  fall  to  shift- 
ing and  plotting,  how  to  get  forth  again  by  unlawful  means ;  oftentimes 
making  shipwreck  of  a  good  conscience,  and  dishonouring  the  gospel  of 
God.  I  beseech  you  consider  these  things.  Every  man  would  have  Christ, 
and  be  rehgious,  so  long  as  they  may  enjoy  peace  and  quietness ;  but  if 
once  trouble  or  persecution  arises,  then  farewell  religion  ;  they  cast  off  their 
profession  then.  I  wish  this  were  not  the  case  of  many  seeming  Christiana 
in  these  our  days. 

But  suppose  a  man  carry  himself  ill  in  suffering  ? 

There  is  not  the  least  promise  of  comfort  in  Scripture  to  such  a  man, 
unless  he  return,  and  seek  the  Lord  by  timely  repentance  ;  for  all  encourage- 
ment is  to  well-doing.  Oh,  what  a  pitiful  thing  is  it  for  the  soul  to  be  in 
Buch  a  state,  as  that  it  dares  not  commit  itself  to  God !  A  man  in  evil 
doing  cannot  go  home  to  his  own  conscience  for  comfort,  nor  have  any 
inward  peace  in  the  least  action  he  performs,  so  long  as  he  doth  it  with 
false  aims,  and  carnal  affections,  &c.  Who  would  deprive  himself  of  the 
comfort  of  suffering  in  a  good  cause  for  want  of  integrity  ?  I  beseech  you, 
therefore,  carry  yourselves  well  in  anything  you  either  do  or  suffer,  other- 
wise no  blessing  can  be  expected ;  for  we  tempt  the  Lord,  and  make  him 
accessory  to  us,  when  we  commit  our  souls  to  him  in  ill-doing :  even  as 
your  pirates  and  other  miscreants  in  the  world,  that  will  rob  and  steal,  and 
do  wickedly,  and  yet  pray  to  God  to  bless  them  in  then-  base  courses  (c) ; 
what  is  this  but  to  make  God  like  themselves,  as  if  he  approved  their  theft 
and  horrible  blasphemy  ? 

But  ichat  must  we  commit  to  God  in  well-doing  ?  The  keeping  of  our  souls. 
The  soul  is  the  more  excellent  part,  witness  he  that  purchased  the  same 
with  his  dearest  blood.  '  What  will  it  profit  a  man,'  saith  our  Saviour,  '  to 
gain  the  whole  world  and  lose  his  own  soul  ?'  Mark  viii.  36.  Who  could  know 
the  price  of  a  soul  better  than  he  that  gave  his  life  for  redemption  of  it  ? 
Yea ,  if  the  whole  world  were  laid  in  one  balance  and  the  soul  in  another, 
the  soul  were  better  than  all.  Therefore,  whatsoever  estate  thou  art 
in,  let  thy  first  care  be  for  thy  soul,  that  it  may  go  well  with  that. 
You  know  in  any  danger  or  combustion,  suppose  the  firing  of  an  house, 
that  which  a  man  chiefly  looks  after  is  his  jewels  and  precious  things,  '  I 
have  some  wealth  in  such  a  place,  if  I  could  but  have  that  I  care  for  no 
more,  let  the  rest  go ;'  so  it  is  with  a  Christian,  whatsoever  becomes  of  him 


THE  saint's  HIDING-PIiACE  IN  THE  EVIL  DAY.  407 

In  this  world,  he  looks  to  his  precious  soul,  that  that  may  be  laid  up  safely 
in  the  hands  of  God.  Suppose  a  man  were  robbed  by  the  highway,  and 
had  some  special  jewel  about  him,  though  every  thing  else  were  taken 
away  from  him,  yet  so  long  as  that  is  left  he  thinks  himself  a  happy  man,  and 
saith,  they  have  taken  away  some  luggage,  but  they  have  left  me  that  which 
I  prize  more  than  all :  so  it  is  with  a  Christian,  let  him  be  stripped  of  all  he 
hath,  so  his  soul  be  not  hurt,  but  all  safe  and  well  there,  he  cares  not  much. 

Quest.  But  what  should  we  desire  our  souls  to  be  kept  from  in  this  world  ? 

Ans.  From  sin  and  the  evil  consequences  thereof.  Beloved,  we  have 
great  need  our  souls  should  be  kept  by  God ;  for  alas !  what  sin  is  there 
but  we  shall  fall  into  it,  unless  God  preserve  us  in  peace  and  comfort,  and 
assurance  of  a  better  estate.  What  would  become  of  our  poor  souls  if  we 
had  them  in  our  own  keeping  ?  Ahithophel  had  the  keeping  of  his  own 
soul,  and  what  became  of  him  ?  First,  he  did  run  into  the  sins  of  treason, 
and  afterwards,  being  a  wicked  politician,  and  an  atheist,  having  no  delight 
in  God,  was  the  executioner  of  himself  {d).  We  shall  be  ready,  as  Job  saith, 
to  tear  our  own  souls  if  God  hath  not  the  keeping  of  them ;  we  shall  tear 
them  with  desperate  thoughts,  as  Judas,  who  never  committed  his  soul  to 
God,  but  kept  it  himself,  and  we  see  what  became  of  him.  The  apostle 
bids  us  go  to  God  in  prayer,  and  committing  our  souls  to  him,  to  keep  from 
sin,  despair,  distrust,  and  all  spiritual  evil  whatsoever,  '  and  then  the  peace 
of  God  which  passeth  all  understanding,'  as  the  word  in  the  original  is, 
'  shall  guard*  our  souls  in  Christ,'  Phil.  iv.  7.  Our  souls  have  need  of 
guarding,  and  we  of  ourselves  are  not  sufficient  to  do  it ;  therefore  we 
should  commit  them  unto  God,  for  except  he  prefeurve  us  we  shall  soon 
perish. 

Wicked  men  think  that  they  have  no  soids.  I  am  ashamed  to  speak  of  it, 
and  yet  notwithstanding  the  courses  of  men  are  such,  that  they  enforce  a 
man  to  speak  that  which  he  is  ashamed  of.  What  do  I  speak  of  commit- 
ting your  souls  to  God,  when  many  thousands  in  the  world  hve  as  if  they 
had  no  souls  at  all  ?  I  am  persuaded  that  your  common  swearers,  and  pro- 
fane wretches,  who  wrong  their  souls  to  pleasure  their  bodies,  and  prosti- 
tute both  body  and  soul,  and  all  to  their  base  lusts,  think  for  the  time  that 
they  have  no  souls  ;  they  think  not  that  there  is  such  an  excellent  immortal 
substance  breathed  into  them  by  God,  w^hich  must  live  for  ever  in  eternal 
happiness  or  endless  misery.  Did  they  beheve  this  they  would  not  wound 
and  stain  their  precious  souls  as  they  do ;  they  would  not  obey  every  base 
lust  out  of  the  abundance  of  profaneness  in  their  hearts,  even  for  nothing, 
as  many  notorious  loose  persons  do.  Oh  could  we  but  get  this  principle  into 
people,  that  they  have  immortal  souls,  which  must  live  for  ever,  they  would 
soon  be  better  than  they  are  ;  but  the  devil  hath  most  men  in  such  bondage 
that  their  Uves  speak  that  they  believe  they  have  no  souls,  by  their  ill  usage 
of  them. 

Obj.  But  must  we  not  commit  our  bodies  and  our  estates  to  God,  as  well 
as  our  souls  ? 

Ans.  Yes,  all  we  have  ;  for  that  is  only  well  kept  which  God  keeps  ;  but 
yet  in  time  of  suffering  we  must  be  at  a  pointf  with  these  things.  If  God 
"will  have  our  Uberty,  if  he  will  have  our  life  and  all,  we  must  hate  all  for 
Christ's  sake  ;  but  we  must  not  be  at  such  a  point  with  our  souls,  we  must 
keep  them  close  to  God,  and  desire  him  to  keep  them  in  icell-doing. 

Obj.  Suppose  it  come  to  an  exigent,  that  we  must  either  sin  and  hurt  our 
souls,  or  else  lose  all  our  outward  good  things  ? 

See  note  k,  page  334. — G.  t  That  is,  '  make  light  of.' — Ed, 


408  THE  saint's  hiding-place  in  the  evil  day. 

Ans.  Our  chief  care  must  be  over  our  souls.  We  must  desire  God  to  pre- 
serve our  souls,  whatsoever  becomes  of  these ;  our  principal  care  must  be 
that  that  be  not  blemished  in  the  least  kind  ;  for,  alas  !  other  things  must  be 
parted  with  first  or  last.  This  body  of  om's,  or  whatsoever  is  dear  in  the  world, 
must  be  stripped  from  us,  and  laid  in  the  dust  ere  long.  But  here  is  our 
comfort,  though  our  body  be  dead,  yet  our  souls  are  themselves  stUl ;  dead 
St  Paul  is  Paul  still.  Our  body  is  but  the  case  or  tabernacle  wherein  our 
soul  dwells  ;  especially  a  man's  self  is  his  soul ;  keep  that  and  keep  all.  I 
beseech  you,  therefore,  as  things  areiu  worth  and  excellency  in  God's  ac- 
count, let  our  esteem  be  answerable.  You  have  many  compliments  in  the 
world,  how  doth  your  body,  &c.,  mere  compliments  indeed,  but  how  few 
will  inquire  how  om-  souls  do  ?  alas  !  that  is  in  poor  case.  The  body  per- 
haps is  well  looked  unto,  that  is  clothed,  and  care  taken  that  nothing  be 
wanting  to  it,  but  the  poor  soul  is  ragged  and  wounded,  and  naked.  Oh 
that  men  were  sensible  of  that  miserable  condition  their  poor  souls  are  in. 

Beloved,  the  soul  is  the  better  part  of  a  man,  and  if  that  miscarries,  all 
miscarries.  If  the  soul  be  not  well,  the  body  will  not  continue  long  in  a 
good  estate.  Bernard  saith  sweetly,  '  Oh,  body,  thou  hast  a  noble  guest 
dwelHng  in  thee,  a  soul  of  such  inestimable  worth  that  it  makes  thee  truly 
noble.'  Whatsoever  goodness  and  excellency  is  in  the  body,  is  commimi- 
cated  from  the  soul ;  when  that  once  departs,  the  body  is  an  unlovely  thing, 
without  life  or  sense.  The  very  sight  of  it  cannot  be  endui'ed  of  the  dearest 
friends.  What  an  incredible  baseness  is  it  therefore,  that  so  precious  a 
thing  as  the  soul  is,  should  serve  these  vile  bodies  of  oui's !  Let  the  body 
stay  its  leisure ;  the  time  of  the  resurrection  is  the  time  of  the  body.  In 
this  hfe  it  should  be  serviceable  to  our  souls  in  sufiering  and  doing  whatso- 
ever God  calls  us  unto.  Let  om'  bodies  serve  our  souls  now,  and  then 
body  and  soul  shall  for  ever  after  be  happy ;  whereas,  if  we,  to  gratify  our 
bodies,  do  betray  our  souls,  both  are  undone. 

Beloved,  the  devil  and  devilish-minded  men,  acted  with  his  spirit,  have  a 
special  spite  to  the  soul.  Alas  !  what  do  they  aim  at  in  all  their  wrongs 
and  injuries  to  God's  children  ?  Do  they  care  to  hurt  the  body  ?  in- 
deed, they  will  do  this  rather  than  nothing  at  all ;  they  will  rather  play 
at  small  game  than  sit  out.  The  devil  wiU  enter  into  the  swine  rather 
than  stand  out  altogether.  Some  mischief  he  will  do,  however ;  but  his 
main  spite  is  at  the  soul,  to  vex  and  disquiet  that,  and  taint  it  with  sin  all 
he  can.  Considering  therefore  that  it  is  Satan's  aim  to  unloose  our  hold 
from  God,  by  defiling  our  souls  with  sin,  so  to  put  a  divorce  betwixt  his 
blessed  majesty  and  us,  oh !  let  it  be  our  chief  care  to  see  to  that  which 
Satan  strikes  at  most !  He  did  not  so  much  care,  in  Job's  trouble,  for  his 
goods,  or  for  his  house,  or  children,  &c.  Alas !  he  aimed  at  a  further 
mischief  than  this !  his  plot  was  how  to  make  him  blaspheme  and  wound 
his  soul,  that  so  there  might  be  a  difference  betwixt  God  and  him.  He 
first  tempts  us  to  commit  sin,  and  afterwards  to  despair  for  sin. 

Quest.  But  to  whom  must  the  soul  be  committed  ? 

Ans.  Our  souls  must  he  committed  to  God.  Commit  the  keeping  of  your 
souls  to  God.  Indeed,  he  only  can  keep  our  souls.  We  cannot  keep  them 
ourselves  ;  neither  can  anything  else  ia  the  world  do  it.  Some  when  they 
are  sick  will  commit  themselves  to  the  physician,  and  put  all  their  trust  in 
him.  When  they  are  in  trouble  they  wiU  commit  themselves  to  some  great 
friend ;  when  they  have  any  bad,  naughty  cause  to  manage,  they  will  com- 
mit themselves  to  their  purse,  and  think  that  shall  bear  them  out  in  any- 
thing.    One  thinks  his  wit  and  policy  shall  secure  him,  another  that  his 


THE  saint's  hiding-place  IN  THE  EVIL  DAY.  409 

shifts  may  shelter  him,  &c. ;  and  indeed  the  heart  of  man  is  so  fall  of 
atheism,  that  it  can  never  light  upon  the  right  object,  to  trust  God  alone, 
until  it  sees  everything  else  fail,  as  being  insufficient  to  support  the  soul, 
or  to  yield  any  solid  comfort  in  times  of  extremity  and  distress. 

Quest.  But  why  must  we  commit  our  souls  to  God  ? 

Am.  Because  he  is  &,  faithful  Creator.     Whence  observe, 

Ohs.  TJiat  the  soul  of  man  being  an  understanding  essence,  will  not  he  satisfied 
and  settled  icithout  sound  reasons.  Comfort  is  nothing  else  but  reasons  stronger 
than  the  evil  which  doth  afflict  us ;  when  the  reasons  are  more  forcible  to 
ease  the  mind  than  the  grievance  is  to  trouble  it.  It  is  no  difficult  matter  to 
commit  om'  souls  to  God  when  we  are  once  persuaded  that  he  is  a  faithful 
Creator.  A  man  commits  himself  to  another  man,  and  hath  no  other 
reason  for  it,  but  only  he  is  persuaded  of  his  ability  and  credit  in  the 
world ;  that  he  is  a  man  of  estate  and  power  to  do  him  good.  So  it  is  in 
this  business  of  religion.  Our  souls  are  carried  to  anything  strongly  when 
they  are  carried  by  strong  reasons,  as  in  this  particular  of  trusting  God 
with  our  souls.  When  we  see  sufficient  reasons  inducing  thereto,  we 
easUy  resign  them  into  his  hands.  This  shews  that  popery  is  an  uncom- 
fortable religion,  which  brings  men  to  despair.  They  have  no  reason  for 
what  they  maintain.  What  reason  can  they  give  for  their  doctrine  of 
doubting,  transubstantiation,  perfect  obedience  to  the  law,  &c.  ?  These  are 
um-easonable  things.  The  soul  cannot  yield  to  such  absurdities.  It  must 
have  strong  reasons  to  stablish  it,  as  here,  to  consider  God  as  a  faithful 
Creator,  &c.  There  is  something  in  God  to  answer  aU  the  doubts  and 
fears  of  the  soul,  and  to  satisfy  it  in  any  condition  whatsoever.  This  is  the 
very  foundation  of  religion ;  not  that  any  worth  can  accrue  to  the  Creator 
from  the  creature,  but  that  there  is  an  all- sufficiency  in  the  Creator  to 
relieve  the  poor  creature.  If  a  man  consider  in  what  order  God  created 
him,  it  will  make  him  trust  God.  Paradise  and  aU  in  it  were  ready  for 
him,  so  soon  as  he  came  into  the  world.  God  created  us  after  his  own 
image,  that  as  he  was  Lord  of  all  things,  so  we  should  be  lord  of  the  crea- 
tures. They  were  all  at  his  service,  that  he  might  serve  God.  Therefore 
after  everything  else  was  created,  he  was  made,  that  so  God  might  bring 
him  as  it  were  to  a  table  ready  famished. 

And  not  only  in  nature,  but  in  holiness,  having  an  immortal  and  invisible 
soul  resembling  God.  We  must  take  God  here  as  a  Creator  of  our  whole 
man,  body  and  soul,  and  of  the  new  creature  in  us.  God  made  man  at  the 
fii-st,  but  that  was  not  so  much  as  for  God  to  be  made  man,  to  make  us 
new  creatures.  God  created  our  bodies  out  of  the  dust,  but  our  souls 
come  immediately  from  himself.  He  breathes  them  into  us,  and  in  this 
respect  he  is  a  higher  Creator  than  in  the  other ;  for  when  we  had  marred 
our  first  making,  and  became  more  like  beasts  than  men,  for  indeed  every 
one  that  is  not  like  God  sympathiseth  with  beasts  or  devils  one  way  or 
other,  God  in  Christ  made  us  new  again.  Yea,  God  became  man  to  enrich 
us  with  all  grace  and  goodness,  to  free  us  from  the  hands  of  Satan,  and 
bring  us  to  an  eternal  state  of  communion  with  himself  in  heaven.  For 
all  the  old  heaven  and  the  old  earth  shall  pass  away,  and  the  old  condition 
of  creatm-es,  and  a  new  life  shall  be  given  them.  God  that  made  the  new 
heaven  and  the  new  earth,  hath  made  us  for  them.  Considering  therefore 
that  God  gave  us  our  first  being,  and  when  we  were  worse  than  naught, 
gave  us  a  second  being  in  regard  to  our  new  creation,  how  should  it  stir 
us  up  to  commit  our  souls  unto  him !  especially  if  we  consider  that  in  him 
we  '  Uve  and  move  and  have  our  being,'  Acts  xvii.  28 ;  that  there  is  not 


410  THE  saint's  hiding-place  in  the  evil  day. 

the  least  thought  and  affection  to  goodness  in  us  but  it  comes  from  God ; 
■we  are  what  we  are  by  his  grace. 

Quest.  What  is  the  reason  that  love  descends  so  much  ? 

Ans.  Because  a  man  looks  upon  that  which  is  his  own  and  loves  it. 
Now  God  looks  upon  us  as  upon  those  into  whom  he  hath  infused  mercy 
ind  goodness,  and  he  loves  his  own  work  upon  us ;  and  therefore  having 
begun  a  good  work,  will  perfect  the  same.  Do  not  men  delight  to  polish 
their  own  work  ?  As  in  the  first  creation  God  never  took  off  his  hand  till 
he  had  finished  his  work,  so  in  the  second  creation  of  our  souls  he  will 
never  remove  his  hand  from  the  blessed  work  of  grace  till  he  hath  perfected 
the  same ;  therefore  we  may  well  commit  our  souls  to  him, 

Obj.  But  suppose  a  man  be  in  a  desperate  estate,  and  hath  no  way  of 
escaping  ? 

Ans.  Remember  that  God  is  the  same  still ;  he  hath  not  forgot  his  old  art 
of  creating,  but  is  as  able  to  help  now  as  ever,  and  can  create  comforts  for 
thee  in  thy  greatest  troubles.  As  in  the  first  creation  he  made  hght  out 
of  darkness,  order  out  of  confusion,  so  still  he  is  able  out  of  thy  confused 
and  perplexed  estate  to  create  peace  and  comfort.  Thou  knowest  not  what 
to  do  perhaps,  thy  mind  is  so  troubled  and  disquieted ;  why,  commit  thy 
soul  to  God;  he  can  raise  an  excellent  frame  out  of  the  chaos  of  thy 
thoughts.  Therefore  be  not  dismayed ;  consider  thou  hast  God  in  covenant 
with  thee,  and  hast  to  deal  with  an  almighty  Creator,  who  can  send  present 
help  in  time  of  need.  Dost  thou  want  any  grace  ?  dost  thou  want  spiritual 
life  ?  Go  to  this  Creator,  he  will  put  a  new  life  into  thee  ;  he  that  made  all 
things  of  nothing  can  raise  light  out  of  thy  dark  mind,  and  can  make  fleshy 
thy  stony  heart,  though  it  be  as  hard  as  a  rock.  Therefore  never  despair, 
but  frequent  the  means  of  grace,  and  still  think  of  God  under  this  relation 
of  a  Creator ;  and  when  he  hath  begun  any  good  work  of  grace  in  thee,  go 
confidently  to  His  Majesty,  and  desire  him  to  promote  and  increase  the 
same  in  thy  heart  and  life.  Lord,  I  am  thy  poor  creature,  thou  hast  in 
mercy  begun  a  blessed  work  in  me,  and  where  thou  hast  begun  thou  hast 
said  thou  wilt  make  an  end.  When  thou  createdst  the  world,  thou  didst 
not  leave  it  till  all  was  done  ;  and  when  thou  createdst  man  thou  madest  an 
end.  Now,  I  beseech  thee,  perfect  the  new  creature  in  my  soul.  As  thou 
hast  begun  to  enlighten  mine  understanding  and  to  direct  my  affections  to 
the  best  things,  so  I  commit  my  soul  unto  thee  for  further  guidance  and 
direction  to  full  happiness. 


NOTES. 


(a)  P.  403. — '  Lncida  Intervalla.'  This  is  the  title  of  a  very  singular  volume  by 
Carkesse.     4to.     1679. 

(b)  P.  405. — '  It  is  necessary  we  should  be  just ;  it  is  not  so  necessary  we  should  live.' 
The  memorable  reprimand  of  the  man  who,  engaged  in  a  disreputable  business,  and 
defending  himself  against  the  sarcasms  of  Dr  Samuel  Johnson,  pleaded  he  '  must 
live.'  '  Not  at  all,  Sir  ;  there  is  no  necessity  for  your  living,'  enforces  the  apoph- 
thegm of  Sibbes.     It  is  one  of  the  gems  preserved  by  Boswell. 

(c)  P.  406. — '  Miscreants  ....  that  will  rob  and  steal  and  do  wickedly,  and  yet 
pray  to  God  to  bless  them  in  their  base  courses.'  The  '  Thugs  '  and  the  appalling 
system  of  '  Thuggism  '  furnish  apt  examples  of  this.  Consult  Arnold's  '  Marquis 
Dalhousie's  Administration  of  the  Punjaub,'  just  issued,  for  narrative  of  their  sup- 
pression in  India.     It  contains  many  startUng  illustrations  of  Sibbes's  words. 

(dj  P.  407. — '  AhithoiDhel  ...  a  wicked  politician.'  '  Ahithophel,'  or  the  '  Wicked 
Politician,'  is  the  title  of  one  of  Nathaniel  Carpenter's  curious  tractates.   4to.  1629. 

G. 


THE  SAINT'S  HIDING-PLACE  IN  THE 
EVIL  DAY.* 


SEKMON  V. 


Wherefore  let  them  that  suffer  according  to  the  vMl  of  God,  commit  their  sovls 
to  him  in  well-doing,  as  to  a  faithful  Creator. — 1  Pet.  IV.  19. 

I  AM  now  to  treat  of  that  other  attribute  of  God,  which  should  move  us  to 
tnist  in  him,  namely,  as  he  is  a  faithful  Creator.  Now  God  is  faithful,  1. 
In  his  nature.  He  is  I  am,  always  like  himself,  immutable  and  unchangeable. 
2.  In  his  word.  He  expresseth  himself  as  he  is.  The  word  that  come3 
from  God  is  an  expression  of  the  faithfulness  of  his  nature.  3.  In  his 
works.  '  Thou  art  good,  and  dost  good,'  as  the  psalmist  saith,  Ps.  cxix.  68. 
God  being  faithful  in  himself,  all  must  needs  be  so  that  proceeds  from  him. 
Whatsoever  relation  God  takes  upon  him,  he  is  faithful  therein.  As  he  is 
a  Creator,  so  he  preserves  and  maintains  his  own  work.  As  he  is  a  Father, 
he  is  faithful  in  discharging  that  duty  to  the  full,  for  his  children's  good. 
As  he  is  our  Friend,  he  likewise  performs  all  the  duties  of  that  relation, 
&c.  And  why  doth  God  stoop  so  low  to  take  these  relations  upon  him, 
but  only  to  shew  that  he  will  certainly  accomplish  the  same  to  the  utmost  ? 
"Whence  is  it  that  men  are  faithful  in  their  relations  one  towards  another, 
that  the  father  is  faithful  to  his  child  ?  Is  it  not  from  God,  the  chief 
Father  ?  That  a  friend  should  be  faithful  to  his  friend,  is  it  not  from  God, 
the  great  Friend  ? 

All  his  ways  are  mercy  and  truth,  Ps.  xxxv.  10.  They  are  not  only 
merciful  and  good  and  gracious,  but  mercy  and  truth  itself.  If  he  shew 
himself  to  be  a  Father,  he  is  a  true  father,  a  true  friend,  a  true  creator  and 
protector.  As  one  saith,  '  Shall  I  cause  others  to  fear,  and  be  a  tyrant 
myself  ?  'f  All  other  faithfulness  is  but  a  beam  of  that  which  is  in  God. 
Shall  not  he  be  most  faithful  that  makes  other  things  faithful  ? 

Now,  this  faithfulness  of  God  is  here  a  ground  of  this  duty  of  commit- 
ting ourselves  to  him ;  and  we  may  well  trust  him  whose  word  hath  been 
seven  times  tried  in  the  fire,  Ps.  xii.  6.  There  is  no  dross  in  it.  Every 
word  of  God  is  a  sure  word ;  his  truth  is  a  shield  and  buckler ;  we  may  well 
trust  in  it.     Therefore,  when  you  read  of  any  singular  promise  in  the  New 

*  Title.— See  Note  p.  401. 

t  Qu. — '  Be  a  tyrant  to  myself?' — G.  Kather,  '  Shall  I  cause  others  to  fear 
tyrants,  and  be  a  tyrant  myself?' — Ed. 


412  THE  saint's  hiding- place  in  the  evil  day. 

Testament,  it  is  said,  'This  is  a  faithful  saying,'  &c.,  1  Tim.  i.  15;  that 
is,  this  is  such  a  speech  as  we  may  trust  to;  it  is  the  speech  of  a  faithful 
Creator. 

Considering,  therefore,  that  God  is  so  faithfal  every  way  in  his  promises 
and  in  his  deeds,  let  us  make  especial  use  of  it.  Treasure  up  all  the  pro- 
mises we  can  of  the  forgiveness  of  sins,  of  protection  and  preservation  ;  that 
he  will  never  leave  us,  but  be  our  God  to  death,  &c.,  and  then  consider  withal 
that  he  is  faithful  in  performing  the  same.  When  we  are  affrighted  by  his 
majesty  and  his  justice,  and  other  attributes,  then  think  of  his  mercy  and 
truth.  He  hath  clothed  himself  with  faithfulness,  as  the  psalmist  saith. 
In  aU  the  unfaithfulness  of  men  whom  thou  trustest,  depend  upon  this,  that 
God  is  still  the  same,  and  wiU  not  deceive  thee. 

When  we  have  man's  word,  we  have  his  sufficiency  in  mind,  for  men's 
words  are  as  themselves  are.  What  will  not  the  word  of  a  king  do  ?  If  a 
man  be  mighty  and  great,  his  word  is  answerable.  This  is  the  reason 
why  we  should  make  so  much  of  the  word  of  God,  because  it  is  the  word 
of  Jehovah,  a  mighty  Creator,  who  gives  a  being  to  all  things,  and  can  only 
be  Lord  and  Master  of  his  word.  We  know  God's  meaning  no  otherwise 
than  by  his  word.  Till  we  come  to  the  knowledge  of  vision  in  heaven,  we 
must  be  content  with  the  knowledge  of  revelation  in  the  word. 

And  in  every  promise,  single  out  that  which  best  suiteth  with  thy  present 
condition.  If  thou  art  in  any  great  distress,  think  upon  the  almighty  power 
of  God.  Lord,  thou  hast  made  me  of  nothing,  and  canst  deUver  me  out 
of  this  estate.  Behold,  I  fly  unto  thee  for  succour,  &c.  If  thou  art  in 
perplexity  for  want  of  direction,  and  knowest  not  what  to  do,  single  out 
the  attribute  of  God's  wisdom,  and  desire  him  to  teach  thee  the  way  that 
thou  shouldst  go.  If  thou  art  wronged,  fly  to  his  justice,  and  say,  0  God, 
to  whom  vengeance  belongeth,  hear  and  help  thy  servant.  If  thou  be  sur- 
prised with  distrust  and  staggering,  then  go  to  his  truth  and  faithfuhiess. 
Thou  shalt  always  find  in  God  something  to  support  thy  soul  in  the  greatest 
extremity  that  can  befall  thee ;  for  if  there  were  not  ia  God  a  fulness  to 
supply  every  exigent*  that  we  are  in,  he  were  not  to  be  worshipped,  he  were 
not  to  be  trusted. 

Man  is  lighter  than  vanity  in  the  balance.  Every  man  is  a  har,  that  is, 
he  is  false.  We  may  be  so,  and  yet  be  men  too,  but  God  is  essentially 
true.  He  cannot  deceive  and  be  God  too.  Therefore  ever,  when  thou  art 
disappointed  with  men,  retire  to  God  and  to  his  promises,  and  build  upon 
this,  that  the  Lord  wUl  not  be  wanting  in  anything  may  do  thee  good. 
With  men  there  is  breach  of  covenant,  nation  with  nation,  and  man  with 
man.  There  is  little  trust  to  be  had  in  any ;  but  in  all  confusions  here  is 
comfort.  A  religious  person  may  cast  himself  boldly  into  the  arms  of  the 
Almighty,  and  go  to  him  in  any  distress,  as  to  a  faithful  Creator  that  will 
not  forsake  him. 

Use.  Oh,  let  us  be  ashamed  that  we  should  dishonour  him  who  is  ready 
to  pawn  his  faithfulness  and  truth  for  us.  If  we  confess  our  sins,  '  God  is 
faithful  to  forgive  them,'  1  John  i.  9.  He  will  not  suffer  us  to  be  tempted 
'  above  that  which  we  are  able,'  1  Cor.  x.  13.  When  we  perplex  ourselves 
with  doubts  and  fears  whether  he  will  make  good  his  promise  or  not,  we 
disable  His  Majesty.  Do  we  not  think  God  stands  upon  his  truth  and 
faithfulness  ?     Undoubtedly  he  doth,  and  we  cannot  dishonour  him  more 

*  That  is,  exigency.  Brooks  uses  '  exigents '  in  the  title  of  one  of  his  raciest 
books,  viz.,  '  The  Mute  Christian  under  the  Smarting  Rod,  with  Sovereign  Antidotes 
against  the  most  miserahle  Exigents.'     12mo,  1669. — G 


THE  saint's  hiding-place  IN  THE  EVIL  DAY.  41  "i 

than  to  distrust  him,  especially  in  his  evangelical  promises.  We  make  him 
a  liar,  and  rob  him  of  that  which  he  most  glories  in,  his  mercy  and  faith- 
fulness, if  we  rest  not  securely  upon  him. 

See  the  baseness  of  man's  natm-e.  God  hath  made  all  other  things  faith- 
ful that  are  so,  and  we  can  tnist  them ;  but  are  ever  and  anon  questioning 
the  truth  of  his  promise.  We  may  justly  take  up  Salvian's  complaint  in 
his  time,  '  Who  hath  made  the  earth  faithftd  to  bring  forth  fruit,'  saith  he, 

*  but  God  ?  Yet  we  can  trust  the  ground  with  sowing  our  seed.  Who 
makes  man  faithful,  who  is  by  nature  the  most  sUppery  and  unconstant 
creature  of  all  other,  but  God  only  ?  Yet  we  can  trust  a  vain  man,  whose 
breath  is  in  his  nostrils,  and  look  for  great  matters  at  his  hands,  before  an 
all-sufficient  God,  that  changeth  not.  Who  makes  the  seas  and  the  winds 
faithful,  that  they  do  not  hurt  us,  but  God  ?  And  yet  we  are  .apt  to  trust 
the  wind  and  weather  sooner  than  God,  as  we  see  many  seamen  that  will 
thrust  forth  their  goods  into  the  wide  ocean  in  a  small  bark,  to  shift  any 
way,  rather  than  trust  God  with  them.' 

Yea,  let  Satan,  by  his  wicked  instruments,  draw  a  man  to  some  cursed 
poUtic  reasons,  for  the  devil  doth  not  immediately  converse  with  the  world, 
but  in  his  instruments,  and  he  will  sooner  trust  him  than  God  himself.  So 
prone  are  om-  hearts  to  distrust  the  Almighty,  to  call  his  truth  in  question, 
and  to  trust  the  lies  of  om*  own  hearts  and  other  men's,  before  him.  Let 
us,  therefore,  lament  our  infidehty,  that  having  such  an  omnipotent  and 
faithftd  creator  to  rely  upon,  yet  we  cannot  bring  our  hearts  to  trust  in 
him.     There  are  two  main  pillars  of  a  Christian's  faith  : — 

1.  The  power  of  God. 

2.  The  goodness  of  God. 

These  two,  like  Aaron  and  Hur,  hold  up  the  arms  of  our  prayers.  Let 
our  estate  be  never  so  desperate,  yet  God  is  a  Creator  still.  Let  our  sins 
and  infirmities  be  never  so  great,  yet  he  hath  power  to  heal  them.  Oh, 
how  should  this  cheer  up  om"  souls,  and  support  our  drooping  spirits  in  all 
our  strivings  and  conflicts  with  sin  and  Satan,  that  we  yield  not  to  the  least 
temptation,  having  such  an  almighty  God  to  fly  unto  for  succour. 

TVe  micst  not  trust  the  creature.  *  Cm'sed  is  that  man  which  makes  flesh 
his  arm,'  Jer.  xvii.  5.     He  that  we  trust  in,  must  be  no  less  than  a  Creator. 

*  Cease  from  man,  whose  breath  is  in  his  nostrils,'  saith  God,  he  is  a  poor 
creatm-e  as  thyself  is ;  raised  of  nothing,  and  shall  come  to  dust  agaiu.  K 
we  would  be  trusting,  as  we  needs  must,  for  we  are  dependent  persons,  and 
want  many  things  whilst  we  are  here,  let  us  go  to  the  fountain,  and  not  to 
broken  cisterns  for  comfort. 

It  is  no  small  privilege  for  a  Christian  to  have  this  free  access  to  God  in 
times  of  extremity.  Be  we  what  we  can  be,  take  us  at  our  worst  in  regard 
of  sin  or  misery,  yet  we  are  his  creatures  stiU.  I  am  the  clay,  thou  art  the 
potter ;  I  am  a  sinful  wretch,  yet  I  am  the  workmanship  of  thy  hands.  0 
Lord,  thou  hast  framed  me  and  fashioned  me,  &c.  No  wicked  person  in 
the  world  can,  upon  good  ground,  plead  in  this  manner,  though  they  may 
say  to  God,  I  am  thy  creature,  yet  they  have  not  the  gi'ace  in  their  troubles 
to  plead  this  unto  him.  W^hy,  Lord,  though  I  be  a  rebelhous  son,  and  am 
not  worthy  to  be  called  thy  sei-vant,  yet  I  am  thy  creatui-e,  though  a  sinful 
one.  Sm-ely,  had  we  faith,  we  would  take  hold  by  a  httle.  The  soul  of  man 
is  like  the  vine,  it  winds  about  and  fastens  upon  every  httle  help.  Faith  wiU 
see  day  at  a  httle  hole ;  and  where  it  sees  anything  it  will  catch  at  it,  as  the 
woman  of  Canaan.  Christ  calls  her  dog.  Why,  be  it  so,  Lord,  I  am  a  do(j, 
yet  I  am  one  of  the  family  though  I  be  a  dog ;  therefore  have  mercy  on  me. 


414  THE  saint's  hidikg-place  in  the  evil  day. 

Oh,  it  is  a  sweet  reasoning  thus  to  cling  about  God,  and  gather  upon 
him  ;  it  is  a  special  art  of  faith.  Though  a  carnal  man  may  reason  thus, 
as  having  a  ground  from  the  truth  of  the  thing,  yet  he  hath  not  grace  to 
reason  out  of  an  affection  thereunto.  Though  he  should  say,  Lord,  I  am  thy 
creature ;  yet  his  heart  tells  him  thus,  if  he  would  hearken  to  it,  I  am  thy 
creature.  Lord,  but  I  have  made  all  my  members  that  I  have  received  from 
thee,  instruments  to  sin  against  thee,  and  I  purpose  not  to  reform ;  my 
tongue  is  an  instrument  of  swearing,  lying,  and  profane  speeches ;  my 
hands  are  instruments  of  bribery  and  violence,  continually  working  mis- 
chief in  thy  sight ;  my  feet  carry  me  to  such  and  such  filthy  places,  and 
abominable  courses ;  mine  own  heart  tells  me  that  I  fight  against  thee,  my 
Creator,  with  those  very  limbs  and  weapons  which  thou  hast  given  me. 
Beloved,  the  Hjonscience  of  this  so  stifles  the  voice  of  a  wilful  sinner,  that 
notwithstanding  he  acknowledgeth  himself  to  be  God's  creature,  yet  he 
cannot  with  any  comfort  plead  for  mercy  at  his  hand  in  times  of  distress. 

But  to  a  right  godly  man  this  is  an  argument  of  special  use  and  conse- 
quence  ;  in  the  midst  of  troubles  he  may  allege  this,  and  it  binds  God  to 
help  him.  We  see  great  ones  when  they  raise  any,  though  perhaps  there 
is  little  merit  in  them,  yet  they  call  them  their  creatures ;  and  this  is  a 
moving  argument  with  such  to  polish  their  own  work  still,  and  not  to 
desert  them.  Will  it  not  be  a  prevailing  argument  with  God  then,  for  a 
Chi'istian  to  plead  with  him  ?  Lord,  thou  hast  raised  me  out  of  nothing, 
yea,  out  of  a  state  worse  than  nothing ;  I  am  thy  poor  creature,  forsake 
not  the  work  of  thine  own  hands.  We  may  see  what  a  fearful  thing  sin  is 
in  God's  eye,  that  the  works  of  our  hands  should  make  God  depart  from  the 
work  oihis  hands,  as  he  will  certainly  do  at  the  day  of  judgment:  'Depart, 
you  cursed,'  &c..  Mat.  xxv.  41.  Though  we  be  his  creatures,  yet  because 
we  have  not  used  those  gifts  and  abilities  which  he  hath  given  us  to  serve 
His  Majesty,  he  will  not  endure  the  sight  of  us  in  that  day. 

But  that  you  may  the  better  practise  this  duty  of  committing  your  soula 
to  God,  take  these  directions. 

1.  Directions  how  to  commit  our  souls  to  God.  First,  see  that  thou  be  thy 
own  man.  It  is  an  act  of  persons  free  to  covenant.  Our  souls  must  be 
ours  before  we  can  commit  them  to  God.  Naturally  we  are  all  slaves  to 
Satan  ;  the  stronj  man  hath  possession  of  us,  and  therefore  our  first  care 
must  be  to  get  out  of  his  bondage,  to  which  purpose  we  should  much  eye 
the  sweet  promises  and  invitations  of  the  gospel,  alluring  us  to  accept  of 
mercy  and  deliverance  from  sin  and  death,  as — '  Come  unto  me,  all  you 
that  are  weary  and  heavy  laden,'  &c..  Mat.  xi.  28,  and  so  cast  the  guilt  of 
our  souls  upon  God  to  pardon  first,  and  then  to  sanctify  and  cleanse,  that 
we  may  no  more  return  to  folly,  but  lead  an  unspotted  hfe  before  him  for 
the  time  to  come. 

It  is  therefore  a  silly  course  and  dangerous,  which  poor  worldly  wretches 
take,  who  think  Lord,  have  mercy  upon  them,  will  serve  their  turn,  and  that 
God  will  certainly  save  their  souls ;  whenas  they  were  never  yet  in  the  state 
of  grace  or  reconciliation  with  him,  nor  never  had  any  divorce  made  be- 
tween them  and  their  sins,  and  consequently  never  any  league  between  God 
and  their  souls  to  this  day. 

Beloved,  when  once  a  man  hath  alienated  his  soul  from  God  by  sin,  he 
hath  then  no  more  command  of  it ;  for  the  present  it  is  quite  out  of  his 
power.  Now,  when  we  would  commit  our  souls  to  God  aright,  we  must 
first  commit  them  to  him  to  pardon  the  guilt  of  sin  in  them.  When  this 
-vs  done,  God  will  give  us  our  souls  again,  and  then  they  may  truly  be  said 


THE  saint's  hiding-place  IN  THE  EVIL  DAT.  415 

to  be  our  o>v'n,  and  not  before.  It  is  the  happiness  of  a  Christian  that  he 
is  not  his  own,  but  that  whether  he  Hve  or  die,  he  is  the  Lord's. 

Direction  2.  In  the  second  place,  we  micst  labour  to  find  ourselves  m 
covenant  ivith  God ;  that  is,  to  find  him  making  good  his  promises  to  us,  and 
ourselves  making  good  our  promises  to  him.  For  a  man  cannot  commit 
himself  to  God,  unless  he  find  a  disposition  in  his  heart  to  be  faithful  to 
him. 

There  is  a  passive  fidelity,  and  an  active.  1.  Passive  faithfulness  is  in 
the  things  that  we  give  trust  unto,  as,  such  a  one  is  a  sure,  trusty  man, 
therefore  I  will  rely  upon  him.  2.  Active  faithfulness  in  the  soul  is,  when 
we  cast  ourselves  upon  a  man  that  is  trusty,  and  depend  upon  him.  The 
more  a  man  knows  another  to  be  faithful,  the  more  faithful  he  will  be  in 
trusting  of  him ;  and  thus  we  must  trust  God,  if  ever  we  expect  any  good 
at  his  hands ;  and  our  dependence  on  him  binds  him  to  be  the  more  faith- 
ful to  us.  He  is  counted  a  wicked  man  indeed,  that  will  deceive  the  trust 
committed  to  him.  Trust  begets  fidelity ;  it  makes  a  good  man  the  more 
faithful,  when  he  knows  he  is  trusted. 

Learn  therefore  to  know  thyself  to  be  in  covenant  with  God,  and  to  trust 
him  with  all  thou  hast ;  train  up  thyself  in  a  continual  dependence  upon 
him.  He  that  trusts  God  with  his  soul,  will  trust  him  every  day  in  every- 
thing he  hath  or  doth.  He  knows  weU,  that  whatsoever  he  enjoys  is  not 
his  own,  but  God's ;  and  this  stirs  him  to  commit  all  his  ways  and  doings 
to  his  protection,  esteeming  nothing  safe  but  what  the  Lord  keeps.  He 
sees  '  it  is  not  in  sinful  man  to  direct  his  own  steps,'  Jer.  x.  23  ;  and 
therefore  resigns  up  his  estate,  his  calling,  his  family,  whatsoever  is  near 
and  dear  unto  him,  to  the  blessed  guidance  and  direction  of  the  Almighty. 
Oh,  thinks  he,  that  I  were  in  covenant  with  God,  that  he  would  own  me 
for  his,  and  take  the  care  of  me,  how  happy  should  my  condition  then  be  ! 

He  wiU  likewise  commit  the  church  and  state  wherein  he  lives  to  God ; 
and  strengthens  his  faith  daily  by  observing  God's  faithM  dealing  with  hia 
people  in  every  kind. 

How  behoveful  it  is  for  Christians  thus  to  inure  themselves  to  be  ac- 
quainted with  God  by  little  and  little,  first  trusting  him  with  smaller 
matters,  and  then  with  greater.  How  can  a  man  trust  God  with  his  soul, 
that  distrusts  him  for  the  petty  things  of  this  life  ?  '  They  that  give  to 
the  poor  are  said  to  lend  unto  the  Lord,'  Prov.  xix.  17 ;  and  '  if  we  cast 
our  bread  upon  the  waters,  we  shaU  find  it  again,'  Eccles.  xi.  1.  Beloved, 
he  that  parts  with  anything  to  reHeve  a  poor  saint,  and  will  not  trust  God 
with  his  promise  to  recompense  it  again,  but  thinks  all  is  gone,  and  he 
shall  never  see  it  more,  &c.,  exceedingly  derogates  from  the  truth  and  good- 
ness of  the  Almighty,  who  hath  promised  to  return  with  advantage  whatso- 
ever we  give  that  way.  He  hath  secret  ways  of  his  own  to  do  us  good, 
that  we  know  not  of.  A  man  is  never  the  poorer  for  that  which  he  dis- 
creetly gives.  It  is  hard  to  believe  this;  but  it  is  much  harder  for  a  man 
to  commit  his  soul  to  God  when  he  dies,  with  assurance  that  he  shall  par- 
take of  mercy,  and  be  saved  at  the  last  day. 

Direction  3.  Again,  take  heed  of  these  evil  and  cursed  dispositions  that 
hinder  us  from  the  performance  of  this  duty ;  as  namely,  carnal  wit  and 
poUcy,  and  carnal  will  and  afiection,  &c.  There  is  a  great  deal  of  self- 
denial  to  be  learned,  before  we  can  go  out  of  oui'selves  and  commit  all  to 
God ;  ere  we  can  cast  ourselves  into  his  arms,  and  lay  ourselves  at  his  feet. 
Therefore  take  heed  that  we  be  not  ruled,  either  by  our  own  carnal  poUcy 
or  others',  to  knit  ourselves  to  that  j  for  I  beseech  you,  do  but  think,  what 


416  THE  saint's  hiding-place  in  the  evil  day. 

is  true  in  all  stories,  not  only  in  the  Scripture,  but  elsewhere,  the  most  unfor- 
tunate men  that  ever  were,  otherwise  wise  enough,  were  always  too  confi- 
dent of  themselves.  The  greatest  swimmers,  you  know,  are  often  drowned, 
•because  relying  overmuch  on  their  own  skill,  they  cast  themselves  into 
danger,  and  are  swallowed  up  of  the  deep.  Even  confidence  in  wit  is 
usually  unfortunate,  though  it  be  great.  Let  Solomon  be  an  example.  You 
see  how  he  strengthened  himself  by  carnal  supports  ;  but  what  became  of 
all  ?  Alas,  it  soon  vanished  and  came  to  nothing.  The  Jews  would  run 
to  the  reed  of  Egypt,  and  that  ran  into  their  hands  ;  instead  of  helping,  it 
hurt  them.  God  takes  delight  to  overthrow  the  ripeness  of  all  the  carnal 
policy  of  man,  that  advanceth  itself  against  his  word  and  gospel.  Take 
heed  of  confidence  in  prosperity,  in  wit,  in  strength  ;  take  heed  of  whatso- 
ever hinders  the  committing  of  our  souls  to  God ;  and  alway  remember, 
that  honesty  is  the  best  policy ;  and  that  God  reconciled  in  Christ  is  the 
best  sanctuary  to  flee  unto.  '  The  name  of  God  is  a  strong  tower,'  saith 
Solomon ;  *  the  righteous  flee  thereto,  and  are  safe,'  Prov.  xviii.  10. 

That  carnal  policy  hinders  our  safety.  Let  Christians  therefore  have  no- 
thing to  do  with  carnal  shifts,  and  politic  ends ;  for  they  have  a  strong  rock, 
and  a  sure  hold  to  go  to  ;  the  Almighty  is  their  shield.  Beloved,  God  will 
be  honoured  by  our  trusting  of  him,  and  those  that  will  be  wiser  than  God, 
and  have  other  courses  distinct  and  contrary  to  him,  must  look  for  confusion 
in  all  their  plots.  A  Christian  should  thus  think  with  himself,  let  God  be 
wise  for  me ;  his  wisdom  shall  be  my  direction ;  his  will  shall  be  the  rule  of 
my  life  ;  he  shall  guide  me  and  support  me ;  I  will  adventure  upon  no  course 
that  I  dare  not  commit  my  soul  with  comfort  to  God  in. 

Oh  beloved,  if  we  tender  our  own  welfare,  let  us  shun  all  unwarrantable 
courses,  and  adventure  upon  no  action  whatsoever,  wherein  we  cannot  upon 
good  grounds  desire  the  Lord's  protection.  It  is  a  fearful  estate  for  a  man 
to  undertake  such  courses,  as  that  he  cannot  if  he  were  sui'prised  by  judg- 
ment, suddenly  commit  himself  to  God  in.  The  throne  of  iniquity  shall 
not  abide  with  God ;  he  will  not  take  a  wicked  man  by  the  hand,  nor  own 
him  ia  a  distressful  time. 

Study  therefore,  I  beseech  you,  to  be  always  in  such  a  blessed  condition, 
as  that  you  may,  without  tempting  of  God,  in  a  holy  boldness  of  faith,  resign 
up  your  souls  to  him.  A  guilty  conscience  cannot  seek  the  Lord ;  natm'ally 
it  runs  away  from  him.  Peace  is  not  easily  gotten,  nor  the  gap  soon  made 
up  ;  therefore  presei-ve  conscience  clear  and  unspotted,  if  thou  wouldst  have 
God  thy  refuge  in  time  of  need.  Adam  when  he  had  sinned  ran  from  God ; 
Peter,  when  our  Saviour  discovered  more  than  an  ordinary  majesty  in  his 
miracles,  said,  '  Lord,  depart  from  me,  I  am  a  sinful  man,'  Luke  v.  8.  It 
is  the  work  of  flesh  and  blood  to  depart  from  God,  but  when  a  man  goes  to 
God,  it  is  a  sign  he  hath  more  than  flesh  and  blood  in  him ;  for  this  cannot 
be  done  without  a  supernatural  work  of  faith ;  which  alone  will  make  a  sin- 
ful conscience  fly  to  God,  and  look  to  him  as  a  father  in  Christ,  and  desire 
him  by  his  almighty  power,  whereby  he  created  heaven  and  earth,  to  create 
faith  in  the  soul.  And  when  thou  hast  cast  thy  soul  into  the  aims  of  the 
Almighty,  labour  to  settle  it  there,  and  to  quiet  thyself  in  the  discharge  of 
thy  duty ;  say  thus,  now  I  have  done  that  which  belongs  to  me,  let  God  do 
that  which  belongs  to  him  ;  I  will  not  trovible  myself  about  God's  work,  but 
in  well-doing  commit  my  soul  to  him,  and  let  him  alone  with  the  rest. 

Christians  should  not  outrun  God's  providence,  and  say,  what  shall  be- 
come of  me  ?  this  trouble  will  overwhelm  me  !  &c.  but  serve  his  providence 
in  the  use  of  the  means,  and  then  leave  all  to  his  disposal.     Especially  this 


THE  saint's  hiding-place  IN  THE  EVIL  DAY.  417 

iluty  is  needful  in  the  hour  of  death,  or  when  some  imminent  danger  ap- 
proacheth  ;  but  then  it  will  be  an  hard  work,  except  it  be  practised  aforehand. 

Direction  4.  Labour  therefore  for  assurance  of  God's  love  betimes,  get  in- 
fallible evidences  of  thy  estate  in  grace,  that  thou  art  a  renewed  person,  and 
that  there  is  a  thorough  change  wrought  in  thy  heart ;  that  God  hath  set  a 
stamp  upon  thee  for  his  own,  and  that  thou  hast  something  above  natm'e 
in  thee ;  then  mayest  thou  cheerfully  say,  '  Father,  into  thy  hands  I  com- 
mend my  spirit;  I  am  thine.  Lord,  save  me,  &c.,'  Luke  xxiii.  46,  otherwise 
having  no  interest  in  God,  how  canst  thou  expect  any  favour  from  him  ? 
Oh  the  sweet  tranquillity  and  heaven  upon  earth  which  those  enjoj^  who 
have  God  to  be  their  friend ! 

This  lays  a  heavy  prejudice  upon  antichristian  religion,  which  maintains 
a  doctrine  of  doubting,  affirming  that  we  ought  not  to  labour  for  assurance 
of  God's  favour.  Oh  beloved,  what  deprives  a  poor  Christian  soul  of  com- 
fort more  than  this  ?  Alas  !  how  can  a  man  at  the  hour  of  death  commit 
his  soul  into  the  hands  of  Almighty  God,  that  staggers  whether  he  be  his 
child  or  no  ?  and  knows  not  whether  he  shall  go  to  heaven  or  hell?  There- 
fore it  should  be  our  daily  endeavour,  as  we  would  have  comfort  in  the  time 
of  resigning  and  giving  up  our  souls  to  God,  to  gather  evidences  of  a  good 
estate ;  that  we  are  in  covenant  with  him ;  that  he  is  our  Father ;  and  that 
we  are  his  children  in  Christ  Jesus. 

For  will  a  man  trust  his  jewels  with  an  enemy,  or  with  a  doubtful  friend  ? 
How  can  the  swearer  commit  his  soul  to  God  ?  How  can  loose  livers  and  your 
filthy,  unclean  wretches,  that  live  in  continual  enmity  against  the  Lord,  commit 
themselves  with  any  comfort  unto  him  ?  They  pray,  '  Lead  us  not  into 
temptation,'  Mat.  vi.  13,  and  yet  run  daily  into  temptations,  into  vile  houses 
and  places  of  wickedness,  wherein  they  feed  their  corruptions,  and  nothing 
else.  They  say,  '  Give  us  this  day  our  daily  bread,'  and  yet  use  unwarrant- 
able courses,  seeking  to  thrive  by  unlawful  means. 

Beloved,  a  man  can  commit  his  soul  with  no  more  comfort  to  God  than 
he  hath  care  to  please  him.  If  a  man  knows  such  a  one  hath  his  evidences 
and  leases,  and  may  hurt  him  when  he  list,  how  careful  will  he  be  of  pro- 
voking or  giving  offence  to  such  a  man  ?  Suppose  we  knew  a  man  that 
had  the  keeping  of  a  lion,  or  some  cruel  beast,  and  could  let  it  loose  upon 
us  at  his  pleasiu-e,  would  we  not  speak  such  a  one  fair,  and  give  him  as  little 
cause  of  discontent  as  may  be  ?  Beloved,  God  hath  devils  and  wicked  men 
in  a  chain,  and  can,  if  we  offend  him,  set  loose  all  the  powers  of  darkness 
upon  us  ;  he  can  make  conscience  fly  in  our  faces,  and  cause  us  to  despair 
and  sink.  All  our  evidences  and  assurances  of  salvation  are  in  God's 
hands  ;  he  can  bring  us  into  a  state  full  of  discomfort  and  misery,  and  make 
us  in  a  manner  to  feel  the  very  flashes  and  scorchings  of  hell  itself.  Oh 
who  would  offend  this  God,  much  less  live  in  the  practice  of  any  sin,  and 
yet  think  of  committing  their  souls  to  him  ! 

Direction  5.  To  encourage  you  the  more  to  trust  in  God,  observe  the  con- 
stant course  of  his  dealing  toicards  you.  '  Lord,  thou  hast  been  my  God  from 
my  youth,'  saith  David  ;  '  upon  thee  have  I  hung  ever  since  I  was  took  out 
of  my  mother's  womb  ;  forsake  me  not  in  my  gray  hairs,  when  my  strength 
faileth  me,'  &c.,  Ps.  Ixxi.  6,  9,  xra.  18.  We  should  gather  upon  God, 
as  it  were,  from  former  experience  of  his  goodness,  and  trust  him  for  the 
time  to  come,  having  formerly  found  him  true.  Beloved,  it  is  good  to 
lay  up  all  the  experiments  of  God's  love  we  can,  that  we  may  trust  him 
at  the  hour  of  death ;  for  all  our  strength  then  will  be  little  eaough  to 
uphold  our  faith.     When  many  troubles  shall  meet  in  one,  as  it  were  in  a 

VOL.  I.  D  d 


418  THE  saint's  hiding-place  in  the  evil  day. 

centre,  then  a  world  of  fears  and  distractions  will  seize  upon  our  souls,  the 
guilt  of  sin  past,  thoughts  of  judgment  to  come,  forsaking  of  our  former 
lusts  and  delights,  trouble  of  mind,  pain  of  body,  &c.  We  have  need  of 
fiauch  acquaintance  with  God,  and  assurance  of  his  love  at  such  a  time. 
Therefore  let  us  learn  daily  to  observe  the  experience  of  his  goodness 
towards  us,  how  when  we  have  committed  ourselves  to  him  in  youth,  he  hath 
been  a  God  from  time  to  time  in  such  and  such  dangers  to  us.  Ancient 
Christians  should  be  the  best  Christians,  because  they  are  enriched  with 
most  experiences.  It  is  a  shame  for  ancient  Christians  to  stagger,  when 
they  yield  up  their  souls  to  God,  as  if  they  had  not  been  acquainted  with 
him  heretofore.  You  see  how  David  pleads  to  God,  *  Thou  hast  redeemed 
me,'  Ps.  xxxi.  5;  he  goes  to  former  experience  of  his  mercy;  therefore  now 
into  thy  hands  I  commend  my  spirit  in  this  extremity.  This  psalm  is  a 
practice  of  this  precept ;  here  is  the  precept,  '  Commit  your  souls  to  God, 
as  a  faithful  Creator;'  here  is  the  practice  of  David,  *  Into  thy  hands  I 
commend  my  spirit,  for  thou  hast  redeemed  me,  0  Lord  God  of  truth,'  &c. 
Therefore,  I  beseech  you,  let  us  treasure  up  experience  of  God's  goodness, 
that  so  when  extremities  shall  come,  we  may  go  boldly  to  him,  upon  for- 
mer acquaintance  with  his  majesty ;  and  being  strengthened  with  former 
experience.  I  beseech  you,  let  us  labour  to  practise  these  and  the  Uke 
rules  prescribed,  to  encourage  us  in  the  performance  of  so  necessary  a  duty. 

Obj.  But  will  not  God  keep  us  without  we  commit  ourselves  unto  him  ? 

Ans.  We  must  commit  our  souls  to  God  if  we  ivould  he  preserved.  I 
answer,  God  having  endued  us  with  understanding  and  grace,  will  do  us 
good  in  the  exercise  of  those  powers  and  graces  that  he  hath  given  us ;  he 
will  preserve  us,  but  we  must  pray  for  it.  Christ  himself  must  ask  before 
he  can  have  :  '  Ask  of  me,  and  I  will  give  thee  the  heathen  for  thine  inhe- 
ritance,' Ps.  ii.  8,  &c.  We  should  therefore  make  it  a  continued  act,  every  day 
of  our  lives,  to  commit  all  we  have  to  the  Lord's  disposal ;  and  to  that  end 
observe  how  he  dis'chargeth  the  trust  committed  to  him  upon  all  occasions ; 
how  faithful  he  is  in  delivering  his  poor  church  in  greatest  extremities,  and 
ourselves  also  even  in  our  worst  times.  '  Thou  never  failest  those  that  trust 
in  thee,'  saith  David,  and  *  How  excellent  is  thy  lovingkindness,  0  God, 
therefore  the  children  of  men  shall  trust  under  the  shadow  of  thy  wings,' 
Ps.  xxxvi.  7.  Daily  experience  of  God's  lovingkindness  will  make  us  daily 
to  trust  under  the  shadow  of  his  wings.  It  should  therefore  be  our  conti- 
nual course  to  observe  the  goodness,  kindness,  faithfulness,  and  other  attri- 
butes of  God,  and  often  to  support  our  souls  with  them. 

Think,  I  beseech  you,  how  he  numbers  the  very  bones  of  men ;  they  are 
all  written  in  his  book  of  providence ;  he  knows  every  joint,  every  part 
which  he  hath  made  ;  he  knows  his  own  workmanship  ;  therefore  we  may 
well  commit  our  souls  to  him.  Doth  God  number  our  superfluities,  and 
not  our  natural  and  essential  parts  ?  Even  our  very  hairs  are  numbered ; 
our  tears  are  taken  notice  of,  and  put  into  his  bottle ;  our  steps  are  told ; 
our  desires  are  known ;  our  groans  are  not  hid.  We  shall  not  lose  a  sigh 
for  sin,  so  particular  is  God's  providence.  He  watcheth  continually  over 
us.  There  is  not  any  of  our  members  but  they  are  all  written  in  his  book, 
go  that  he  will  not  suffer  '  a  bone  to  be  broken,'  Ps.  xxxiv.  20.  We  should 
therefore  daily  resign  up  our  souls  to  his  merciful  tuition,*  and  bind  our- 
selves to  lead  unblameable  lives  before  him,  resolving  against  every  sinful 
course,  wherein  we  would  be  afraid  to  look  his  Majesty  in  the  face.  What 
a  comfortable  life  were  the  life  of  Christians,  if  they  would  exercise  them- 
*  That  is,  '  protection.' — Ed. 


THE  saint's  hiding-place  IN  THE  EVIL  DAY.  419 

selves  to  walk  as  in  the  presence  of  the  Almighty  !  This  is  that  which  the 
Scripture  speaks  of  Enoch,  Gen.  v.  24,  and  the  rest,  who  are  said  to  have 
walked  with  God ;  that  is,  to  have  committed  themselves  and  their  souls  to 
him,  as  to  a  faithful  Creator. 

Ohj.  Of  wicked  mens  preserving,  who  do  not  commit  their  souls  to  God. 
It  may  be  objected,  here  is  a  great  deal  of  labour  and  striving  against  cor- 
ruptions indeed  ;  may  not  a  man  walk  with  God  without  all  this  ado  ?  We 
see  wicked  men,  that  never  commit  their  souls  to  God,  grow  fat  and  lusty, 
and  have  as  good  success  in  the  world  as  the  strictest  men  that  are. 

Ans.  1.  I  answer,  God  many  times  preserves  such  wretches ;  but,  alas  ! 
that  preservation  is  rather  a  reservation  for  a  worse  evil  to  come  upon 
them.  '  There  is  a  pit  a-digging  for  the  wicked,'  Ps.  xxxvii.  13,  88.  He 
flourisheth  and  bears  out  all  impudently,  under  hope  of  success ;  but  his  grave 
is  a-making,  and  his  present  prosperity  wall  but  aggravate  his  future  misery. 

2.  Sometimes  God  preserves  wicked  men  for  other  ends.  It  may  be  he 
hath  some  to  come  of  their  loins,  who  of  wicked  shall  be  made  good. 

3.  Again,  God  witl  be  in  no  man's  debt.  Those  that  are  civilly  good  shall 
have  civil  prosperity,  as  the  Romans  had.  They  had  a  commonwealth  well 
governed,  and  they  prospered  many  years  together.  As  Chaucer  observes, 
God  preserves  wicked  men  from  many  calamities  ;  he  gives  them  civil 
wisdom,  good  carriage,  &c. ;  and  answerable  to  those  common  gifts,  he 
gives  them  preservation  and  protection,  &c. ;  but  then  there  is  vengeance 
on  their  souls  the  while.  Those  that  commit  not  themselves  carefully  and 
watchfully  to  God,  have  dead,  secure  souls,  without  any  life  of  grace  or 
power  of  godliness  in  them.  I  speak  this  to  waking  Christians,  that  would 
know  in  what  case  they  should  live ;  walking  in  the  sense  and  assurance  of 
God's  love ;  they,  I  say,  ought  to  practise  this  duty  of  committing  the 
keeping  of  their  souls  to  God  in  well-doiag,  as  to  a  faithful  Creator. 

What  it  is  to  commit  our  souls  to  God.  Neither  is  it  so  easy  a  matter  to 
commit  onr  souls  to  God  as  many  fondly  imagine.  It  is  not  the  mumbling 
over  a  few  prayers,  saying,  Lord,  receive  my  soul,  &c.,  will  serve  the  turn. 
These  are  good  words  indeed,  and  soon  learned ;  but,  alas !  who  cannot  do 
this  ?  Our  study,  therefore,  should  be  to  know  the  depth  and  meaning  of 
the  same ;  how  that  we  are  not  only  to  commit  the  essence  of  our  souls  to 
God,  that  he  would  take  them  into  heaven  when  we  die ;  but  also  to  commit 
the  affections  of  our  souls  to  him,  that  he  might  own  us  and  govern  us 
whilst  we  live ;  for  how  are  our  souls  known,  but  by  those  active  expres- 
sions in  our  affections,  which  immediately  issue  from  them,  when  we  com- 
mit all  our  thoughts,  desires,  and  affections  to  him,  setting  him  highest  in 
our  souls,  and  making  him  our  hope,  our  trust,  our  joy,  our  fear,  &c.  ? 

Thus  I  have  spoken  of  the  duty,  and  of  the  thing  to  be  committed,  our 
souls ;  and  to  whom,  to  God ;  and  the  mamur,  in  well-doing ;  and  why  ? 
because  he  is  a  faithful  Creator. 

Now,  I  beseech  you,  consider  how  nearly  it  concerns  us  all  to  be  tho- 
roughly acquainted  with  the  practice  of  this  duty.  God  knows  what 
extremities  we  may  fall  into.  Certainly  in  what  condition  soever  we  be, 
either  public  or  private,  whether  in  contagion  and  infection,  or  war  and 
desolation,  happy  are  we  if  we  have  a  God  to  go  to.  If  we  have  him  to  retire 
to  ia  heaven,  and  a  good  conscience  to  retire  to  in  ourselves,  we  may  rest 
secure.  '  Though  the  earth  be  removed,  and  the  mountains  be  carried 
into  the  midst  of  the  sea,'  Ps.  xlvi.  2,  4,  yet  we  shall  be  safe ;  that  is, 
though  the  order  of  nature  were  confounded,  yet  there  is  a  river  shall 
refresh  the  house  of  God.    There  are  chambers  of  divine  protection,  that  the 


420  THE  saint's  hiding-place  in  the  evil  day. 

(Siristian  enters  into,  as  the  prophet  saith,  '  Enter  into  thy  chambers,'  Isa. 
xxvi.  20;  and  God  is  his  habitation  still.  If  a  Christian  had  no  shelter  in 
the  world,  yet  he  hath  an  abiding  place  in  God  continually ;  as  God  dwells 
in  him,  so  he  dwells  in  God.  Satan  and  all  other  the  enemies  of  man  must 
break  through  God  before  they  can  come  to  us,  when  once  we  commit  our- 
selves to  him,  as  to  a  tower  and  habitation,  and  enter  into  him  as  into  an 
hiding  place.  The  enemies  must  wrong  him  before  they  can  hurt  us,  so 
blessed  an  estate  it  is  to  be  in  God,  having  commended  our  souls  to  him, 
as  unto  Q,  faithful  Creator. 

Obj.  But  we  see  many  of  God's  dear  children,  that  commit  themselves 
to  his  care  and  protection,  miscarrj^  and  go  by  the  worst  in  the  world. 

A71S.  1.  Beloved,  it  is  not  so,  for  when  they  commit  themselves  to  God, 
they  are  under  safety;  and  if  he  keep  them  not  out  of  trouble,  yet  he  will 
preserve  them  in  trouble.  *  I  will  be  with  thee  in  the  fire,  and  in  the  water,' 
saith  God,  Isa.  xl.  He  saith  not,  I  will  keep  you  out  of  the  fire,  and  out 
of  the  water,  for  he  brought  many  holy  martyrs  into  it ;  some  were 
drowned,  some  burned,  &c.  Though  God  will  not  keep  us  out  of  trouble, 
yet  he  will  preserve  our  spirits  in  trouble ;  nay,  God  many  times  by  a  small 
trouble  preserves  us  from  a  greater.  Even  the  sufiierings  of  the  godly  are 
oft  preservations  to  them.  Was  not  Jonah  preserved  by  the  whale  ?  What 
bad  become  of  him  if  that  had  not  swallowed  him  up  ?  A  whale  that  one 
would  have  thought  should  be  a  means  to  destroy  him,  was  a  means  to 
carry  him  to  the  coast,  and  bring  him  safely  to  land. 

Again,  God  seems  for  a  time  indeed  to  neglect  his  children  when  they 
commit  themselves  unto  him,  but  mark  the  issue  ;  *  all  the  works  of  God 
are  beautiful  in  their  season,'  Eccl.  iii.  11.  He  suffers  them  it  may  be,  a 
long  time  to  be  in  danger  and  trouble,  till  he  hath  perfected  the  work  of 
mortification  in  their  hearts,  and  crucified  their  confidence  in  earthly  things, 
till  he  hath  made  them  more  sensible  of  the  evil  of  sin,  and  watchful  against 
it ;  but  wait  a  while,  and  you  shall  see  '  that  the  end  of  the  righteous  man 
is  peace,'  Ps.  xxxvii.  37. 

God's  presence  and  assistance  to  support  his  children  in  trouble  is  in- 
vincible ;  they  have  gladness  and  comfort  that  we  wot  not  of;  they  commit 
the  safety  of  their  souls  to  God,  and  he  seems  to  neglect  them,  if  we 
look  to  their  outward  man,  but  they  have  a  paradise  in  their  conscience. 
God  preserves  their  souls  from  sin,  and  their  consciences  from  despair. 
They  have  an  invisible  protection.  There  was  a  fence  about  Job  that  the 
devils  saw,  and  a  guard  of  angels  that  EUas  saw,  and  that  his  servant  saw 
afterwards,  2  Kings  vi.  14,  15.  Wicked  men  see  not  the  guard  of  spirits 
that  is  about  the  children  of  God ;  as  Christ  saith,  '  they  have  meat  the 
world  knows  not  of,'  John  iv.  32  ;  they  feed  on  hidden  comforts. 

As  for  carnal  men,  they  do  not  commit  themselves  to  God;  they  have  no 
preservation,  but  rather  a  reservation  to  further  evil.  Pharaoh  was  kept 
from  the  ten  plagues,  but  was  drowned  in  the  sea  at  last ;  and  Sodom  was 
kept  by  Abraham ;  he  fought  for  them,  but  yet  it  was  destroyed  with  fire 
and  brimstone  afterwards. 

Let  us  then  try  our  trust  in  God.  Those  that  intend  to  embark  them- 
selves and  their  estates  in  a  ship,  will  be  sure  to  try  it  first.  This  com- 
mitting of  our  souls  to  God,  must  be  our  ship  to  carry  us  through  the 
waves  of  this  troublesome  wor  d  to  the  heavenly  Canaan  of  rest  and  peace. 
We  should  therefore  search  and  prove  the  same,  whether  it  be  indeed  safe 
and  sound,  able  to  support  our  souls  in  the  evil  day,  and  not  leak  and  prove 
insufficient  for  us. 


THE  saint's  hiding-place  IN  THE  EVIL  DAY.  421 

How  to  know  when  we  trust  God  aright.  Trial  1.  Those  that  commit 
themselves  to  God  aright,  are  far  from  teviptinri  his  majestij.  God  will  be 
trusted,  but  not  tempted.  What  though  things  fall  not  out  according  to 
thy  expectation ;  yet  wait  thou,  and  think  God  hath  further  ends  than 
thou  knowest  of.  God  will  do  things  in  the  order  of  his  pro\'idence,  there- 
fore if  we  neglect  that,  it  is  our  own  fault  if  he  do  not  help  us.  If  Christ 
had  committed  his  health  to  God,  and  had  cast  himself  down  from  the 
pinnacle,  what  an  act  had  this  been  !  but  he  would  not  so  tempt  the  Al- 
mighty. Neither  should  we  unadvisedly  run  into  dangers,  but  serve  his 
providence  upon  all  occasions.  God  useth  our  endeavour  to  this  very  end. 
He  saves  us  not  always  immediately,  but  by  putting  wisdom  into  our  hearts 
to  use  lawful  means,  and  using  those  means  he  will  save  us  in  them.  A 
Christian  therefore  should  be  in  a  continual  dependence  upon  God,  and 
say,  I  will  use  these  means,  God  may  bless  them ;  if  not,  I  will  trust  him  ; 
he  is  not  tied  to  the  use  of  means,  though  I  be. 

Trial  2.  Again,  those  that  commit  their  souls,  or  anything  to  God,  find 
themselves  quieted  therein.  Is  it  not  so  amongst  men  ?  If  a  man  commit 
a  jewel  to  a  trusty  friend,  is  he  not  secure  presently  ?  Have  we  not  God's 
word  and  faithfulness  engaged,  that  he  will  not  leave  us  nor  forsake  us,  but 
continue  our  all-sufficient  God  and  portion  to  our  lives'  end  ?  Why  then  are 
we  disquieted  ?  Those  that  are  full  of  cares  and  fears  may  talk  their 
pleasure,  but  they  never  yet  had  any  true  confidence  in  God :  for  faith  is  a 
quieting  grace,  it  stills  the  soul ;  '  being  justified  by  faith,  we  have  peace 
with  God,'  Rom.  v.  1.  Those  that  are  hurried  in  their  life  with  false 
doubts  and  perplexities,  *  What  shall  become  of  me  ?  What  shall  I  eat, 
and  what  shall  I  drink  ? '  &c.,  though  they  use  lawful  means,  yet 
commit  not  themselves  to  God  as  they  should ;  for  where  there  is  a 
dependence  upon  God  in  the  use  of  means,  there  is  an  holy  silence  in 
the  party.  All  stubborn  and  tumultuous  thoughts  are  hushed  in  him. 
'  My  soul,  keep  silence  to  the  Lord,'  saith  David,  '  and  trust  in  God ;  why  art 
thou  so  vexed  within  me?'  Ps  xlii.  11.  Still  there  is  a  quieting  of  the 
soul  where  there  is  trust.  Can  that  man  put  confidence  in  God  that  prowls 
for  himself,  and  thinks  he  hath  no  Father  in  heaven  to  provide  for  him  ? 
Doth  that  child  trust  his  father,  that,  besides  going  to  school,  thinks  what 
he  shall  put  on  ?  how  he  shall  be  provided  for,  and  what  inheritance  he 
shall  have  hereafter  ?  Alas  :  this  is  the  father's  care,  and  belongs  not  to 
him.  Wheresoever  these  distractions  are,  there  can  be  no  yielding  up  of 
the  soul  to  God  in  truth. 

There  be  two  afiections  which  mightily  disturb  the  peace  of  Christians. 
1.  Sinful  cares;  and  2.  sinful  fears.  To  both  which  we  have  remedies 
prescribed  in  the  Scripture.  1.  ' Fear  not,  little  flock,'  saith  Christ,  'for 
it  is  your  Father's  will  to  give  you  a  kingdom,'  Luke  xii.  32  ;  as  if  he  had 
said,  Will  not  he  that  gives  you  heaven,  give  you  other  things  ?  In  nothing 
be  careful,  saith  the  apostle,  that  is,  in  a  distracting  manner,  but  do  your 
duty,  and  then  '  let  your  requests  be  made  known  to  God,  and  the  peace  of 
God  shall  keep  you,'  Phil.  iv.  7  ;  and  therefore  were  we  redeemed  from  the 
hands  of  our  enemies,  that  we  might  '  serve  him  without  fear  all  our  days,' 
Luke  i.  74. 

A  Christian  should  keep  an  inward  sabbath  in  his  soul,  and  go  quietly 
on  in  doing  all  the  good  he  can.  What  a  fearful  thing  is  it  to  see  men  lie 
grovelhng  in  the  earth,  and  live  without  God  in  the  world,  troubling  and 
turmoiling  themselves  how  to  compass  this  thing  and  that  thing,  as  if  they 
had  no  God  to  seek  unto,  nor  no  promise  to  rely  upon. 


422  THE  saint's  hiding-place  in  the  evil  day. 

Trial  3.  Again,  where  this  committing  of  a  man's  self  and  his  soul  to 
God  is,  there  ivill  be  a  looking  to  God  only,  in  all  a  mav  doth,  not  fearing 
any  danger  or  opposition  that  may  befall  him  from  without.  As  the  three 
young  men  said  to  Nebuchadnezzar,  '  Our  God  can  keep  us  jf  he  will,'  Dan. 
iii.  But  what  if  he  will  not  ?  '  Yet  know,  0  king,  that  we  will  not  worship 
nor  fall  down  before  thy  image.'  So  it  is  with  a  Christian ;  foreseeing  some 
danger,  disgrace,  or  displeasure  of  this  or  that  man  which  may  befall  him, 
he  resolveth  notwithstanding,  in  despite  of  all,  to  commit  himself  to  God 
in  doing  his  duty,  come  what  will.  Whether  God  will  save  him  or  no,  he 
will  not  break  the  peace  of  his  conscience,  or  do  the  least  evil.  He  is  no 
fool,  but  foresees  what  may  befall  him  for  well-doing.  This  inconvenience 
may  come,  and  that  trouble,  yet  he  sets  light  by  these.  He  hath  an  eye 
to  heaven,  and  sees  more  good  to  himself  in  the  Creator  that  gave  him  his 
being  of  nothing,  and  more  good  for  the  time  to  come,  that  -svill  make  him 
a  blessed  saint  in  heaven,  than  there  can  be  ill  in  the  creature.  Therefore, 
come  what  can  come,  his  heart  is  fixed  to  trust  the  Lord,  and  rather  than 
he  vdll  displease  him,  desert  his  honour  and  his  cause,  or  do  any  unworthy 
action,  he  wUl  commit  himself  to  God  in  the  greatest  dangers. 

Reason  of  trusting  in  God.  The  ground  hereof  is  this :  a  Christian  is  the 
wisest  man  in  the  world,  and  he  understands  well  enough  that  God  is  all- 
sufficient.  He  sees  there  is  a  greater  good  in  God  than  he  can  have  in  the 
creature,  and  counts  it  madness  to  ofiend  God  to  please  the  creature ;  be- 
cause there  is  a  greater  evil  to  be  expected  from  God  than  from  the  crea- 
ture, though  it  were  the  greatest  monarch  in  the  world.  Considering, 
therefore,  that  he  hath  his  best  good  in  his  union  with  God,  and  in  keeping 
his  peace  with  him,  he  will  not  break  with  him  for  any  creature.  And  thus 
he  doth  wisely,  for  he  knows  if  he  lose  hi«  life  he  shall  have  a  better  life  of 
God  than  he  hath  in  his  body ;  for  God  is  his  life,  God  is  his  soul  and  his 
comfort,  and  he  hath  his  being  from  God.  He  is  his  Creator,  and  he  hath 
a  better  being  in  God  when  he  dies  than  he  had  when  he  hved ;  for  our 
being  in  God  makes  us  happy,  and  therefore  Christ  saith,  He  that  loves  his 
life,  before  God  and  a  good  cause,  hates  it,  and  he  that  hates  his  life  when 
Christ  calls  for  it,  l^ves  it,  John  xii.  25,  for  he  hath  a  better  Ufe  in  him. 
We  give  nothing  to  God,  but  he  returns  it  a  thousand  times  better  than  we 
gave  it.  Let  us  yield  our  hves  to  him.  We  shall  have  them  in  heaven  if 
they  be  taken  away  on  earth.  He  will  give  us  our  goods  a  thousandfold. 
We  shall  have  more  favour  in  God  than  in  any  creature,  and  therefore  a 
Christian,  out  of  this  ground,  commits  himself  to  God,  though  he  foresee 
never  so  much  danger  hke  to  fall  upon  him. 

Trial  4.  Again,  if  we  do  in  deed  and  not  in  pretence  commit  ourselves  to 
God,  as  to  a  faithful  Creator,  we  uill  not  limit  his  majesty,  as  many  carnal 
hearts  do.  Oh,  if  God  wiU  do  so  and  so  for  them,  then  they  would  trust 
him.  If  they  had  but  so  much  to  live  on  a  year,  and  such  comings  in,  &c., 
then  they  would  depend  upon  God.  But  they  must  have  a  pawn  and  so 
much  in  hand  first.  What  a  shame  is  it  that  we  should  trust  the  vilest 
man  in  the  world  as  far  as  we  see  him,  and  yet,  unless  we  have  somewhat 
to  lean  on,  we  will  not  trust  God !  Beloved,  when  a  man  limits  God  in 
anything,  such  a  one  may  talk,  but  he  trusts  him  not  at  all.  Indeed,  we 
should  indent  with  God,  and  tie  him  to  look  to  the  salvation  of  our  souls ; 
but  for  other  things  leave  them  to  his  own  wisdom,  both  for  the  time,  for 
the  manner  and  measm*e,  do  what  he  will  with  us.  Suppose  it  come  to 
the  cross,  hath  he  not  done  greater  matters  for  us  ?  Why  then  should  we 
distrust  him  in  lesser  ?     If  times  come  that  religion  flourish  or  goes  down- 


THE  saint's  hiding-place  IN  THE  EVIL  DAY.  423 

ward,  yet  rely  on  liim  still.  Hath  he  not  given  his  Son  to  us,  and  will  he 
not  give  heaven  also  ?  Why  do  we  limit  the  Holy  One  of  Israel,  and  not  cast 
ourselves  upon  him,  except  he  will  covenant  to  deal  thus  and  thus  with  us  ? 

A  true  Christian  hath  his  eye  always  heavenward,  and  thinks  nothing 
too  good  for  God.  0  Lord,  saith  he,  of  thee  I  have  received  this  life,  this 
estate,  this  credit  and  reputation  iu  the  world.  I  have  what  I  have,  and 
am  what  I  am  of  thee,  and  therefore  I  yield  all  to  thee  back  again.  If 
thou  wilt  serve  thyself  of  my  wealth,  of  myself,  of  my  strength,  thou  shalt 
have  it.  If  thou  wilt  serve  thyself  of  my  credit  and  reputation,  I  will 
adventure  it  for  thee.  If  thou  wilt  have  my  life,  of  thee  I  had  it,  to  thee 
I  will  restore  it,  I  will  not  limit  thy  majesty ;  come  of  it  what  will,  I  leave 
it  to  thy  wisdom ;  use  me  and  mine  as  thou  wilt ;  only  be  gracious  to  my 
soul,  that  it  may  go  well  with  that,  and  I  care  not.  Thus  we  should 
wholly  resign  ourselves  to  the  Lord's  disposal,  and  thereby  we  shall  ex- 
ceedingly honour  his  majesty,  and  cause  him  to  honour  us,  and  to  shew  his 
presence  to  us  for  our  good,  which  he  wiE  assuredly  do  if  we  absolutely 
yield  up  ourselves  to  him.  But  if  a  man  will  have  two  strings  to  his  bow, 
and  trust  him  so  far  but  not  so  far,  so  he  may  be  kept  from  this  danger  or 
that  trouble,  &c.,  this  is  not  to  deal  with  God  as  an  omnipotent  Creator; 
for  he  that  doth  a  thing  truly  in  obedience  to  God,  will  do  it  generally  to 
all  his  commands.  So  far  as  the  reason  of  his  obedience  reaches,  his  trust 
extends.  He  that  commits  anything  to  God  will  commit  all  to  him.  He 
chooseth  not  his  objects.  But  upon  the  same  ground  that  he  commits  his 
soul  to  God  when  he  dies,  he  commits  his  estate,  liberty,  and  all  he  hath 
whUe  he  lives.  He  can  never  rely  on  God  for  greater  matters,  that  distrusts 
him  in  lesser. 

Trial  5.  Again,  a  man  that  truly  trusts  God  tvill  commit  all  his  ivays  unto 
him ;  he  will  take  no  course  but  what  he  is  guided  in  by  the  Lord.  He 
looks  for  wisdom  from  above,  and  saith.  Lord,  though  it  is  not  in  me  to 
guide  my  own  way;  as  thy  word  shall  lead  me,  and  the  good  counsel  of  thy 
Spirit  in  others  direct  me,  so  I  will  follow  thee.  He  that  commits  not  his 
ways  to  God,  will  not  commit  his  comforts  to  him.  God  must  be  our 
counsellor  as  well  as  our  comforter.  Therefore  the  wise  man  bids  us 
*  acknowledge  God  in  all  our  ways,  and  lean  not  to  our  own  wisdom,' 
Prov.  iii.  5.  Most  men  look  how  safe  their  counsels  are,  not  how  holy 
and  agreeable  to  God.  Is  this  to  trust  in  him  ?  Will  God  save  us  at  last, 
and  yet  suffer  us  to  live  as  we  list  now  ?  Deceive  not  yourselves ;  he  that 
will  have  his  soul  saved  must  commit  it  to  God  beforehand  to  be  sanctified. 

Trial  6.  Again,  those  that  commit  themselves  aright  to  God  will  commit 
their  posterity  to  him,  their  wives  and  childi-en,  &c. 

Ohj.  Why  !  do  not  men  make  their  wills  and  commit  their  goods  to  them  ? 

Solution.  Oh  !  but  how  do  they  resign  them  ?  How  covetous  and  full  of 
distrust  are  they  !  I  must  leave  such  a  child  so  much  and  so  much  ;  and 
why,  I  pray  you  ?  Because  God  cannot  bless  him  else  ?  0  fearful !  is  God 
tied  to  means  ?  cannot  he  bless  with  a  little  as  well  as  with  a  great  deal '? 
Is  not  'the  earth  the  Lord's,  and  the  fulness  thereof?'  Ps.  xxiv.  1.  Why 
must  God  have  so  much  in  hand,  or  else  he  cannot  enrich  and  raise  up  thy 
children  ?  Oh  !  consider,  he  hath  declared  himself  to  be  the  father  of  the 
fatherless,  and  looks  to  the  widow  in  a  special  manner ;  he  doubles  his 
providence  there ;  he  provides  for  all,  but  takes  special  notice  of  them ; 
therefore  quiet  thyself,  they  are  in  covenant  with  God,  and  God  is  thy  God, 
and  the  God  of  thy  seed  also ;  therefore  if  thou  wilt  commit  thy  soul,  why 
not  thy  wife,  children,  goods  ?  &c. 


424  THE  saint's  hiding-place  in  the  evil  day. 

Look  into  the  course  of  God's  people  in  all  times.  Those  that  have  left 
but  little  with  honest  dealing,  God  hath  blessed  the  same  exceedingly ; 
whereas  those  that  have  left  great  matters  ill  gotten,  instead  of  a  blessing 
have  often  left  a  curse  and  a  snare  behind  them.  Why  then  should  men 
take  indirect  courses,  and  wound  their  consciences  for  worldly  pelf? 

Consid.  1.  Consider,  1,  thy  children  are  God's  and  not  thine  ;  he  gave 
them  to  thee  at  tirst,  and  he  can  provide  hereafter  when  thou  art  gone. 
Thou  art  the  father  of  their  body,  but  he  is  the  father  of  their  soul. 

2.  He  provided  for  them  before  they  were  born.  Doth  not  he  provide 
care  and  affection  in  the  mother's  heart  ?  T)oth  he  not  provide  suck  in  the 
mother's  breasts  ?  and  will  he  not  care  for  them  now  they  are  born  as  well 
as  he  did  before  they  came  into  the  world  ?  It  is  atheism  to  think  such  a 
thought.  Those  that  commit  themselves  to  God  in  one  thing  will  do  so 
in  all  things,  otherwise  they  deceive  their  own  souls ;  for  it  is  a  universal 
act  that  runs  through  their  whole  hfe.  Committing  is  an  action  of  trust, 
and  there  is  a  kind  of  intercourse  of  trust  between  God  and  a  Christian 
continually. 

Trial  7.  Lastly,  those  that  commit  themselves  to  God  tvill  he  faithful 
stewards  in  tchatsoever  he  liath  trusted  them  withal.  Thou  committest  thyself 
and  thy  health  and  estate  to  God,  and  at  length  thou  wilt  commit  thy  soul 
when  thou  diest  unto  him.  Very  well ;  but  what  doth  God  trust  thee  withal  ? 
Hath  he  not  trusted  thee  with  a  body  and  a  soul,  with  a  portion  of  goods, 
with  place,  time,  strength,  and  abilities  to  do  good?  Hast  thou  not  all  thou 
hast  from  God  as  a  steward,  to  improve  for  thy  Master's  advantage  ?  If  ever 
thou  expectest  the  performance  of  what  thou  hast  put  in  him,  be  faithful  in 
that  trust  which  he  hath  committed  to  thee.  Those  that  have  misused  their 
bodies  and  wounded  theii'  souls  in  their  lives,  how  can  they  commit  them 
to  God  at  theii-  deaths  ?  How  dares  the  soul  look  up  to  him,  when  the  life 
hath  been  nothing  else  but  a  perpetual  offending  of  his  majesty? 

I  beseech  you,  let  us  learn  this  wholesome  lesson  !  Great  is  our  benefit 
thereby.  '  He  that  trusts  in  the  Lord  shall  be  as  Mount  Sion,  that  cannot 
be  moved.'  We  may  be  shaken,  but  shall  never  be  removed.  The  earth 
is  shaken  with  earthquakes,  but  the  earth  keeps  its  own  centre  still.  Our 
best  peace  is  in  God,  and  our  chiefest  safety  in  his  protection.  '  I  laid  me 
down  to  rest,  because  thou.  Lord,  watchest  over  me,'  Ps.  iii.  5,  saith  the 
prophet;  and,  '  Return,  0  my  soul,  to  thy  rest,  for  the  Lord  hath  been  very 
beneficial  to  thee,'  Ps.  cxvi.  7.  Is  it  not  a  good  thing  to  have  a  sweet 
security  of  soul  that  whether  I  sleep  or  wake,  whether  I  be  at  home  or 
abroad,  live  or  die,  I  have  a  providence  watching  over  me  better  than  mine 
own  ?  When  I  yield  myself  up  to  God,  his  wisdom  is  mine,  his  strength  is 
mine ;  whatsoever  he  hath  it  is  for  me,  because  I  am  his.  What  a  heaven 
upon  earth  is  this,  that  a  Christian,  out  of  a  holy  familiarity  with  God, 
can  resign  up  his  soul  to  him  upon  all  occasions !  Set  heaven  and  salvation 
aside,  what  greater  happiness  can  be  desired?  How  sweet  is  a  man's  rest 
at  night  after  he  hath  yielded  himself  to  God  by  faithful  prayer  ? 

Use.  Exhortation.  I  beseech  you,  let  us  be  acquainted  with  the  practice 
of  this  duty,  and  labour  to  be  in  such  a  state  as  God  may  own  us,  and  receive 
our  poor  souls  to  himself.  Let  us  keep  them  pure  and  undefiled,  and  labour 
to  improve  our  talents,  that  when  we  give  anything  to  God,  we  may  say, 
Lord,  according  to  the  grace  I  have  received  I  have  kept  it,  and  therefore 
now  return  it  to  thee  again. 

Beloved,  when  trouble  of  conscience  comes,  when  sickness  and  death 
comes,  what  will  become  of  a  man  that  hath  not  this  sweet  acquaintance  with 


THE  SAINT  S  HIDING-PLAOE  IN  THE  EVIL  DAY.  425 

God  ?  He  was  a  stranger  to  God  in  the  time  of  prosperity,  and  God  is  now 
a  stranger  to  him  in  adversity.  Saul  was  a  profane- spirited  man ;  he  did 
not  acquamt  himself  with  God  in  the  time  of  his  happiness,  and  therefore 
m  time  of  distress  he  goes  first  to  the  witch,  and  then  to  the  sword-point. 
So  fareth  it  with  all  wicked  wretches  in  their  great  extremities.  No  sooner 
doth  any  evil  betide  them,  or  the  least  danger  approach  them,  let  conscience 
never  so  little  fly  in  their  faces,  &c.,  but  presently  they  go  to  cursed  means, 
and  run  upon  desperate  conclusions. 

Therefore,  as  we  desire  to  die  even  in  God's  arms,  and  yield  up  ourselves 
into  the  veiy  hands  of  the  Almighty  with  comfort,  let  us  daily  inure  our- 
selves to  this  blessed  course  of  committing  ourselves  and  all  our  ways  to 
him  in  doing  good. 

'  Come  and  see,'  saith  the  Scripture,  John  i.  46.  Beloved,  if  you  will 
not  beheve  me,  make  trial  of  this  course  a  while.  Did  you  once  taste  the 
sweetness  of  it,  how  would  your  drooping  spirits  be  cheered  up ! 

Let  a  man  continually  keep  a  good  conscience,  and  he  shall  be  satisfied 
with  peace  at  last.  Suppose  he  meets  with  danger  and  opposition  in  the 
world,  this  may  seem  harsh  at  the  first.  Oh,  but  he  shall  know  afterwards 
what  it  is  to  part  with  anything  for  Christ's  sake,  to  coromit  his  cause,  or 
whatsoever  he  hath,  unto  God,  as  to  a  faithful  Creator  !  Then  we  taste  of 
God  to  the  purpose  when  we  put  him  to  it,  for  God  wiU  not  be  indebted  to 
us.  We  never  find  such  sweet  immediate  comfort  from  him  as  when  we 
deny  ourselves  comfort  of  the  creature  for  his  sake. 

Little  do  we  know  what  times  may  befall  us.  There  is  much  danger 
abroad,  and  we  have  cause  to  lear.  not  lar  from  us.  It  may  be  the  clouds 
even  now  hang  over  our  heads.  On,  if  we  would  be  hid  in  the  day  of 
the  Lord's  wrath,  and  have  no  evil  come  nigh  our  dwellings,  let  us,  above 
all  things  in  the  world,  make  sure  our  interest  in  Christ,  and  title  to  the 
promise.  We  should  seek  to  know  God  more,  and  then  we  would  trust  him 
more.  '  They  that  know  thy  name  will  trust  in  thee,'  saith  David,  Ps.  ix. 
10.  Oh,  the  blessed  estate  of  a  Christian,  that  now  he  may  be  acquainted 
with  God ;  that  through  Christ  there  is  a  throne  of  grace  to  fly  unto !  I  be- 
seech you,  improve  this  happy  privilege;  and  then,  come  what  will,  come 
famine,  come  danger  of  war  or  pestilence,  &c.,  God  will  be  a  sanctuary 
and  an  abiding  place  to  you.  A  Christian  carries  his  rock  and  sure  defence 
about  him.  '  I  will  be  unto  them  a  Uttle  sanctuary  in  all  places,'  saith  God. 
What  a  comfort  is  it  to  have  a  '  wall  of  fire  '  still  compassing  us  about,  a  shield 
that  our  enemies  must  break  through  before  they  can  come  at  us !  He  that 
trusts  in  God  shall  be  recompensed  with  mercy  on  every  side.  It  is  no 
matter  what  dangers  compass  him.  Though  he  be  in  the  midst  of  death  and 
hell,  or  any  trouble  whatsoever,  if  he  commits  himself  to  God  in  obedience, 
out  of  good  grounds  of  faith  in  his  word,  hes  hall  be  safe  in  the  evil  day.* 

*  As  explained  in  prefatory  note,  'The  Churcli's  Visitation '  forms  the  'second 
part  of  a  volume.  I  annex  the  quaint  notice  for  the  guidance  of  readers,  as  wish- 
ing to  preserve  everything  traceable  to  the  pen  of  Sibbes  : — 

To  THE  Keadee.— Reader,  in  this  Booke  there  are  two  parts.  The  one  begins 
at  the  Church's  Visitation,  and  goes  on  orderly  to  page  240,  and  there  it  ends.  This 
I  call  the  second  part.  All  the  rest,  from  the  beginning  and  so  forward,  I  count  the 
first  part.  Therefore,  when  thou  art  directed  to  the  fourth  or  fifth  page,  because  thou 
shouldest  not  looke  in  both  nor  mistake,  I  have  set  it  thus  :  1,  4,  which  is,  1  part,  4 
page ;  or  2,  5,  the  second  part  and  fifth  page.' 

All  the  separate  indices  will  be  incorporated  in  the  general  indices  of  our  closing 
volume.— G. 

END  OF  VOL.  I. 


As  bearing  on  the  illustration  of  Sibbes  and  tb©  '  Puritani  of 
the  present  series,  already  or  yet  to  be  included,  the  kind  assistance 
of  book -lovers  in  procuring  the  following  works  is  respectfully 
soUcited : — 

(1.)  Catliir(Zachary),  The  Hidden  Treasure.    Two  sermons.   4to.    1633. 
(2.)  Brooks  (Thomas),  Hypocrites  Detected,  &c.     Thanksgiving  sermon. 

1650.     Funeral  Sermon  of  Thomas  Brooks,  by  Reeve.     1680. 

Funeral  Sermon  of  Mrs  Brooks.     1676. 
(8.)  Lamb  (Thomas),  Fountain  of  Free  Grace  opened.     Treatise  of  Par- 
ticular Predestiaation.     1642. 
(4.)  Loveday  (Samuel),  Hatred  of  Esau  and  Love  of  Jacob  unfolded. 

1650. 
(5.)  Thorpe  (Edmund),  Animadversions  on  Truman's  Natural  and  Moral 

Impotency,  &c. 
(6.)  Storry  (Peter),  Seven  Sermons  before  House  of  Commons,  &c.    4to. 

1645-60. 
(7.)  Howe  (John),  Sermon  before  House  of  Commons.     4to.     1666-7. 
(8.)  Rogers  (John),  Commentary  on  1  Peter.     FoHo.     1657. 
(9.)  Any  of  the  nunor  books  of  PhiHp  Nye,  Simeon  Ash,  Charles  and 

Samuel  Richardson,  Faithful  Teate,  John  Durant. 


i 


Princeton  Theological  Semmary-Spet 


1    1012  01095  1731 


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